Rot and Rise, CHAPTER FOUR : TEARS OF A PHOENIX

CHAPTER FOUR : TEARS OF A PHOENIX

I stood there, shaking. My knees shook. My hands shook. I grasped my shaking fingers to stifle the uncontrollable movement. I couldn't.

I collapsed onto the floor, across from the city square, kneeling among the remains of a great time of food, drink, laugher. I kneeled among the corpses of mothers grieving over their children, husbands grieving over their wives, children grieving over their family and friends.

I was supposed to be standing tall and proud. I was supposed to be waving the banner of Hillcrest and Roskovia. I was supposed to whoop and thrust my sword in the air, sending ripples of cheers and chants of glory through the gathered crowd. There was supposed to be exhilarating triumph, not heart-shattering grief. It was was supposed to be like in all the legends. It wasn't. I suppose it only made people like Lev Moonbane more respectable. After all, one would need to be very brave to continue.

Thoughts flashed in my mind. Faces. What was I doing, slumped on the ground like a wet reed? I needed to be braver.

I leapt to my feet and ran. I ran towards the potato sacks. With wild swings, I shoved them aside. There lay Zoya, gasping for air.
"Alexei!"

"Zoya."

"What happened?"

I moved out of her way, letting her take the scene in.

As she gasped behind me, I walked further on. My eyes scoured the crowd. I glanced at all the faces on the corpses. I breathed a sick sigh of relief, happy. Happy that none of them were my family.

I walked on, into a street. Corpses were slumped against the walls, unspeakable wounds inflicted on them. Some hung down on ropes intended for drying clothes from balconies, their heads drooping low. My heart rattled in my stomach. I was still shaking.

"Alexei?!"

I turned around. There, emerging from hiding in an abandoned izbushka, came my mother. Then Baba Anastasia. Then my father. Then Mikhail. Then Sergei and Dmitry. The boys had blood from their spades up to their forearms. It wasn't theirs, of course.

"Alexei!" Mother hugged me, hanging onto me.

The rest of the family came out. We hugged and cried.

Once we were all reunited, we walked over to the city square again. My family wept as they took the carnage in. I embraced Zoya as she came to me.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the blade I absentmindedly strapped to my thigh.

"It's... a new tool of mine."

It was a straight blade made of stainless steel. It was about the size of my forearm. The handle was made of animal bone, with depictions of pogroms carved into it.

"Citizens of Hillcrest!" Lev Moonbane boomed over the heads of the assembled crowd. He was dressed in full battle armour, his blade now in its sheath. His indigo cape billowed behind him. The rising sun formed a bloody halo around his head, his neat locks of hair, undaunted by battle, reflected the light.

"Hillcrestonites!" someone in the crowd shouted.

"Hillcrestonites!" Lev Moonbane corrected himself. "You have fought bravely in this Battle of Hillcrest!"

The crowd nodded their heads in solemn agreement.

"You have saved you kin and shown valour!" the Knight continued.

I looked down at my blade. It was speckled with blood. I sighed, my heart sinking down low.
"You! Boy!" I looked up to see Knight Lev Moonbane pointing a gauntleted finger at me. I looked up, my heart pace quickening. "You have shown great valour yesternight. You have earned my respect, young boy. As you know, my old Squire is... out of commission. So I want you, boy, to serve me and take on the HONOUR of being my Squire."