Her life ended with fire and began with ashes.The peaceful orange hue of the sunset was rivaled by the fiery red reflections on her dark eyes as she watched her village burn. She flinched with every echo that resounded off of the clashing metal near her.
Her vision blurred with stinging tears as smoke invaded her lungs and matched her eyes to the shade of dancing flames around her. Despite how weak she felt, the girl's feet continued to run as fast as she could towards her home, wincing every time she stepped on a particularly sharp rock.
A powerful yell rose from behind her and she looked back in fear, seeing a man fighting her village's baker.
Her heart pounded furiously as she clutched her doll close to her chest, trying to catch her breath after coughing for what felt like eternity, scratching her throat in the process. She covered her mouth to stop from screaming when a horse ran past her with an unfamiliar man leading the animal. Her eyes trailed on the matted sword as tears ran down her cheeks.
The tumult behind her grew nearer, breaking the small brunette out of her daze, She began to run once again but her luck had finally run out.
Her foot got caught in the hem of her dress and she fell harshly to the stoned floor. Her bunny shaped doll flew from her arms as she caught herself with her hands before her face made contact with the ground. Small rocks etched into her delicate hands and it took all her power to move into a sitting position with her throbbing knees. Her light blue dress turned dark; a combination of grey, brown and red covering the light material covering her.
A combination a child should never see in such situation.
She failed every time she tried to stand up, her legs giving out beneath her, too tired from running without clean air passing through her. Her tousled hair stuck to her sweaty forehead, mixing with the salty liquid on her cheeks.
Like many children on that gruesome day, she too was spotted by one of the bandits.
The gloaming monster trotted over to her with a menacing smile on his face. He had his sword by his side, the state of it mirroring her torn dress. The dark of the night drew on with every step he took towards her, laughing at her futile attempts to crawl back and away from him.
"Please, don't." she cried, begging for her life. "Please..."
A heartless group had invaded her home. Not even the breaking voice of a child begging for their life could stop them from evil.
Her voice was not the first to shake with fear, nor was it the last.
As the man raised his sword, the girl decided to look towards her home instead of closing her eyes, wanting the last thing she saw to be something she loves; even if she failed to run the few remaining steps to it.
At least I'll die close to them.
Those words are not something any child should ever think. But many thought it and worse that night.
She took a deep breath, getting cut off by loud sobs escaping her lips as she waited for her world to turn dark. His cruel laugh rung in her ears, taking his sweet time to bring his sword down, taking in the pleasure of torturing a little girl like that.
Then she saw it.
She saw her father run like he never had before, reaching her in what felt like two seconds.
Only he was two seconds too late.
His eyes were wide open with fear and rage as he tackled the man towering over his eldest daughter to the same ground that had her blood spilt over it.
"Dad!" she yelled in pain and relief as her hand flew to her right shoulder, gripping it tightly as blood seeped through her small fingers and down her arm. Despite the excruciating pain, she finally gathered enough power to stand up at the sight of her father. All she wanted to do was to run to him and stay in his embrace as he cared for her.
The bandit was caught off guard, taking a while to process what had happened. Recovering from the shock, the bandit began to wrestle the man on top of him for the sword between them.
"Run!" her father yelled, his only concern being her safety.
She did not run. The girl froze in fear as more tears trailed down her cheeks before falling down her chin like a waterfall. She wanted to help him, but couldn't do anything except stand there and clutch her arm while it burned with every fleck of ash landing on the open wound.
"Clara, run!" he yelled again, looking at her from the side as he tried to get the bandit off of himself. "Go to your mom, butterfly." he pleaded in a softer voice.
"Dad..." she whimpered, walking backwards, her eyes never leaving his.
"Run!" he yelled one final time before the blade impaled him and he let out a yell that would haunt her nightmares for decades.
Only then did she finally run, her eyes shut tightly as she maneuvered the path with ease, taking the final steps to her home.
She couldn't hear him say her name followed by three heavy words as he took his final breath.
Just as she arrived at her doorstop, her mother stepped out, yelling frantically at the sight of her daughter covered in so much blood.
"Clara!" she cried. "What happened to you?"
"Dad-" she hiccupped through her sobs. "He- He saved me, mom. He-"
"Hugh!" the woman screamed like her heart was ripped out of her body as her eyes landed on her husband a few feet away from them, his limp body staring off into space with faded eyes.
Her mother would have run to him had it not been for the many galloping horses coming through, cutting her off from the rest of the village as another battle ensued, this time overpowering the bandits.
Still sobbing from the pain of her shoulder, Clara heard the cries of her newborn sister coming from her room.
"Mom, she's crying." she spoke softly, her throat hurting with every sound that made it out.
"Mom..."
Feeling lightheaded, she called out once more but to no avail, so with every last bit of energy she made her way to her room, picking up her tiny sister and ignoring the agonizing pain in her shoulder as she cradled her to her chest, sitting down and leaning back on the wall behind her as she faded from consciousness, still holding onto her baby sister protectively.
The kingdom's knights battled with their every might, ridding the village of the curse that had been bestowed upon it in that night.
Amidst all the havoc, a bunny shaped doll had caught on fire, the soft fabric turning dark and crumbling into ash.
The flames finally died, accompanying many peaceful civilians of all ages. The knights helped all those who were injured protecting their home and gave them all the needed medical attention. They then began to plan out how to restore all that had been lost in the battle from food to houses.
The general himself had come to fight off the evil and stayed to help after it. His heart dropped when he spotted the corpse of a dear friend on the ground with his wife crying over him.
He consulted the crying woman gently, worried about the absence of the girl he'd met many times since she'd been born.
"Home." was all the woman muttered to him, her voice barely heard as she shook with violent sobs, screaming in agony over her loss.
The general made his way to the home, hearing the cries of a baby. He hurried inside, following the sound, only to be met with the girl he searched for cradling a baby in her arms, with her head falling limply to her bloodied shoulder, covering her tear stained cheeks with the red substance.
He quickly made his way to her, taking the baby in his arms before putting her back in her crib and taking care of the older girl and her wound.
"I got you, Clara." he whispered, hoping she might hear him somehow.
This is where it all starts.
Hope you enjoy the ride!
YOU ARE READING
The Warrior of Avelyn
Historical FictionHer life ended with fire and began with ashes. After a heartbreaking loss; Clara trains to become a knight with the General's help. After years of fierce training, she finally gets the title she so rightfully earned. Being a knight instantly brough...