Summer Garden

Claven

Claven screamed as the sword passed through her shoulder, as Luna shoved her to the side, freezing the knight solid and breaking them apart with a headbutt. Her mistress, yanked her to the side again, kicking someone in the gut, still moving, still fighting. It was all Claven could do to keep up. She wasn't cut out for this sort of thing. She was a farmer, not a warrior or a mage. She knew humans were supposed to be weak, but their weapons still hurt.

She pulled the sword out of her shoulder, quickly raising it to try and block. The sword was knocked out of her hands instantly, and the knight froze a hair's breadth from cutting her throat, twitching. Behind them Luna stood angrily, her hand sticking through their throat. She yanked her handback, "Ward, Claven. Now."

She felt the doorway to her mind torn open, the entire world bursting into light again. She felt the dust vibrating in the air, the red dust curled up around her, begging to be set free. It was singing to her, an angry tune, the sound of a world betrayed. Claven sprinkled some dust into the air, forcing her thoughts to take shape.

Luna was suddenly driven backwards by a knight able to match her. A paladin.

Claven found herself alone.

The humans wasted no time, closing in around her, as she danced, listening to the dust, to the gift Luna had given her. This was magic. Not the hamfisted approach she was used to using to get things done. She was one with the lifestream, and it with her. Spells weren't predefined formulas that you could rely on. They were songs, joining you with the magic in unity.

So she sang.

She sang the song of the Fae, of the betrayed. She sang a song of hatred, or revulsion. She sang of Hero, and the mark he left upon her world. She guided the souls around her like a god above, across the void and beyond the shores to the worlds beyond. They were worlds apart, and the humans were beyond what the knew. She educated them. She may not be a strong Fae, but she was still Fae.

Claven tore the breastplate from a knight, impaling them on another going to their aid, before turning and ripping the skull from their shoulders. People don't die quickly. Death takes its time. You have time to watch it close in, to respond. A wound to the chest will slow you down and will kill you, but not right away. Humanity is bad at accepting inevitability. They continued to fight, even as she tore arms from sockets and broke bones with a flick of her finger.

The redhead sneered angrily. The invaders had no chance, they had to know it. The only ones who even stood a chance were the paladins. So why did they fight? Because it was all the mankind knew how to do. All that they were was a screaming toddler, breaking a toy rather than sharing it.

Claven rolled her eyes and turned, flicking her middle finger into a knight's head, crushing the helmet onto their skull.

Humans were such fragile things.