Maleficent

Chapter Thirteen

The flatlander army stretches out across the plain, brutal and unforgiving. I know that they will slaughter us all if our swords and magic fail, so we must not falter. Mab is in the healers compound, waiting for the wounded fae that will be brought in during the battle. Beside me, Maeve has traded her fighting leathers out for black armour that matches mine and together, we are a force to be reckoned with. Maeve sits astride Cassia and watches as our joined people spread out behind us. All those who are able to fight have come. The might of the valley has gone against the flatlands many times and won, and we will win again. This time, we will not just win. We will rattle the stars. As the sun starts to rise, staining the sky red, a promise of the blood that will be spilled today, the army before us starts to stir. A lone rider gallops across the no-mans-land and it seems as if the world is holding its breath as he halts before us.

"In the holy name of mine king!" The messenger cries at the top of his lungs the flatland king's proclamation to the armies camped on the plain and the mountain foothills. "I tell thee to lay down thine arms and surrender. With his Majesty's bountiful mercy, he has decided that if thou accepth thine rule, he will allow thee to keep thine worthless lives! What sayths thee?" His part now done, he sits proudly on his horse, waiting for our reply. After a quiet discussion with Kye and the other forest leaders, Wynn steps forward.

"I am the voice of the forest, Wynnalyn Earth-Seer. You ask us to lay down our weapons, well! We raised them to defend our home, and for as long as we live, none shall rule this forest that does not know it in their very blood and bones." Her voice is not loud, but the wind carries it all the way across the plain. Wynn's tone changes now, her words are sent directly to the man who calls himself king of the forest. "You, on the flatland throne! I was there, long ago, when we sent your kind running. Those that preceded you thought to destroy us and they left that battlefield with their tails between their legs. We will crush you time and time again, for we have the might of our forest in our very souls. If you seek to rule us, then come out and stand before us instead of hiding like a coward!" Her last sentence rings out, and the silence that is left in its wake is deafening. A commotion arouses at the head of their army, and a man in golden armour walks out to stand beside the messenger.

"You call me a coward, you who will let others fight in your steed. Wynnalyn Earth-Seer, you may have destroyed armies in your youth, but you are weaker now old woman!" I barely hear the collective laugh of the flatlanders, the gravely rasp of his voice, distorted by his helmet, unsettles me so. Where have I heard it before? "You stand at a disadvantage, you mean to fight in our territory and your own army is filled with the old and the young. I shall give you my word: all those that do not bow before me shall not leave this battlefield." He turns around and walks through his ranks of soldiers, the only sound the clanking of his armour. Before we can react, a voice calls out from the front lines.

"Archers, ready! Fire!" A line of flaming arrows falls from the sky, and one strikes Wynn in the heart. She is dead before she hits the ground, and one scream rises over all the others, even as a significant chunk of our army is felled.

"Wynn!" Kye roars over our battle cries as we charge. "Wynn!" His heartbroken cry turns my fury to ice and I add my voice to his.

The first flatlander who attempts to take me down makes a grave mistake and underestimates me. Before he can raise his sword I rake my claws across his chest and they slice easily through the iron breastplate and into the soft flesh beneath. Everywhere I go, men start dying, and I slide into a killing calm. There is only me and the screams of those unfortunate enough to end up in my way.

Somewhere across the battlefield, I feel every life that Maeve ends and every life that Mab saves. What a sight we must be, Death Incarnate! The Goddess must be having a good laugh at Maeve's expense. Astruina, the falling star indeed. It haunts her, knowing that however high she will fly on the back of her horse, she is destined to fall. At the very least, she will shine brightly to the end, if that is some consolation.

Grunting, I sheath my claws and pull my sword from its sheath on my back, then return to the fray. I have almost made it to the actual camp, and once I destroy the barricade, there is nothing stopping me from hunting through their stronghold for the king.

With every abandoned tent, my fury grows and I cannot help but snarl in frustration. Leaping up the stone walls, I jump off the top and land in the field behind the camp. I didn't realize how far away from the battlefield I have come, and at the sound of creaking armour, I whirl around to freeze as the king emerges from the trees across the field, his sword held to Mab's throat.