Velvet Death

Leather and Lace

I couldn't defy my father if I wished to live, and it wasn't like I would have any trouble fighting. I was, after all, the best warrior in the land.

Eventually we made our way to the armory, where Ralk opened the door and motioned for me to enter.

"What style of gear do you prefer to wear in battle my lady?" He asked, gesturing toward the stands that lined the walls, full of different kinds of armor. I glanced at the suits of armor, both heavier plate mail as well as chainmail, and then their lighter, more flexible leather counterparts. Then, in the corner, I noticed something unique.

On a mannequin sat a set of leather armor unlike the rest. Tight fitting leather greaves, with knee length boots, equipped with thick, cord-like lacing. A chest-piece was made to match, embossed with intricate swirls which had been painstakingly tooled along the dried, worn, lace up chest piece. It was made to fit a woman, to my surprise. I turned to Ralk, one eyebrow cocked curiously.

"What about that set there?" I asked, motioning toward the armor.

"That... was your mother's armor, Lady Armalin. It was made for her just before you were born. Just before..." I cut him off with a look, and then turned to look at the armor once more. It was perfect... "I will wear that armor, and none other," I murmured quietly, lost in my own thoughts of the past, and what could have been.

I turned to look at my father's servant, sighing in resignation. "Shall we be going, then?" The man nodded and as we left the room, he grabbed the arm of a passing servant and mumbled a few words to him, while pointing into the room we had just left. I assumed he was requesting that my armor was prepared and sent to my room. We continued on our way to the scribes' hall, where I would sign away my fate. It may as well have been in blood.

~~~~

I slammed the door loudly behind me as I stormed into Kristos' room and sank into a chair. I cradled my head in my hands, which were shaking with a strange mix of anger and fear. Kristos jumped and turned around to look me over, and I did the same out of the corner of my eye. He was tall and thin, yet quite solid, with shaggy hair and kind eyes (a rarity in my land). Most men's eyes were cold and hard, betraying no emotion. Come to think of it, most women's eyes were just as chilling... including my own. The only person I let my guard down around was Kristos, and that in itself was a miracle.

"Well hello Armalin, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked teasingly, but I caught the glimmer in his eye. He meant the question honestly. Kristos was the only son of the head warlock of The Clan of the Abyss. The Clan was a group of warlocks that fought for my father's army. Having those able to wield black magic was a great advantage in our war against Churah. Although they had something quite similar, The Guild of Mages. Being the head of a group of magicians or warlocks was a high position, and as such Kristos and his father were granted residence in the castle. We had been friends since childhood, in fact he was the only friend I had ever made. If I held any kind of affection for anyone, it would be Kristos.

"It has finally happened Kristos, he did it. He finally found a way to make me fight in his idiotic war" I lamented. Despite my status as a master swordswoman, I truly had no desire to be a part of the nightmare that was war. I have never wanted to be involved with that bloodshed, seeing I have never been one for politics, nor do I have a penchant for world domination as the King did. Quickly Kristos strode over to me on his long legs, and kneeled in front of me, holding one of my hands between his in a rare display of affection.

"Tell me everything that has happened," he demanded, his voice tense. I saw a fear in his eyes that very nearly mirrored my own. Did he truly care so much? I took a shaky breath, and then told him everything that had transpired that morning. The sun was beginning to set as I finished and he looked at me with resignation. There was nothing I could do, and he knew it.

"Kristos, we both know that I cannot disobey the King... I am going to war" I said, speaking what I knew we both felt. He nodded and laughed softly.

"I don't see why we should worry at all, seeing as you could take on a man from Churah any day. They are too soft hearted, I mean they don't even let women fight in their army. They most likely will balk at the thought of striking you down, yet another advantage for you. An advantage you don't need, I might add" he said reassuringly, as he noticed a glare beginning to form on my face at his implication of my weakness. Yet, suprisingly, I felt better. My eyes rose to meet his and I mustered up the closest thing to a genuine smile as I could.

"I do not fear the fighting really, I can handle my own in a battle... It is just... I have lived my whole life knowing this day would come and, well, now it has" I said, and the situation hit me all over again as I stated it. I was finally going into this war.

"I suppose you are right. It was bound to happen eventually, why not now? But now that I think of it, I do recall hearing rumors. Rumors of a mysterious fighter for Churah. I hear they call him their Champion, and weave tales of his great skill with a blade. Perhaps he could be some match for our Lady Armalin. Perhaps you should watch your back out there" he teased.

This actually sparked my interest. A champion eh? Perhaps I actually had found a worthy opponent. I hadn't been truly challenged by a duel in years, since about the age of 16. I haven't been defeated in three years.

"Well soon they will be weaving legends and lamenting his tragic passing, for if we come face to face, I will not be the one coming out of it dead" I replied.

Kristos smiled ruefully, "either way I pity him, for if he kills you he will have me to contend with, and I will have you know I am a force to be reckoned with. Not only that but you are so stubborn that he will most likely be plagued by your spirit haunting him for years to come." I laughed and nodded agreement. His expression darkened momentarily, ending any momentary joviality I had felt.

"I wonder when you will be sent out to fight. Most likely soon, your father is probably itching to use your abilities to his advantage." His face became detached for a moment as he went into thought, then he turned and his face was serious. "You should probably go to sleep Armalin, you will need to be well rested for what lays ahead of you, I'm sure" he said, his face softening.

"Yes, I definitely will" I replied. I looked up into his face, and then tentatively hugged him. The embrace ended almost as quickly as it began, and I quickly shuffled out of the room, glancing at the astonished look on his face. The whole way back to my room I berated myself. Why had I done such a thing? I ignored all of the quizzical looks I got as I strode through hall after hall. No one had ever seen me look disheveled before, between the events with my father and my uncharacteristic behavior toward Kristos, I must have looked a fright indeed. Finally I reached the sanctuary of my room.

The armor I had requested, my mother's armor, was set up in the corner of my room. My room actually looked somewhat... homely. I had never felt that way about it before. The armor was sentimental to me, and it added something to my otherwise bare living quarters. Slowly, I undressed, slipping my cream colored breeches off of my lean, strong legs. My body was probably more muscle than the average woman's was, but I preferred it that way. I had earned every lean muscle, every ounce of strength, through hours of training.

I sank onto my bed and pulled my blanket over me, curling up and finally relaxing after what seemed like the longest day of my life.