"You have all been chosen to service the Echidninarian army. Ladies and gentlemen-we will overcome our enemy. We will control the trading routes. Your children will never go hungry again. The story of each and every one of your heroics will be told throughout the land. You will be held in the upmost honour for the rest of time!"
A man, decorated with medals shouts at us. I wince as spit flys into my face. We are standing in a tent, full of other men and women. We are recruits for the army. That's what people think anyway. Obviously I'm not joining the Echidninarian army. I know that Gray and Branwen are originally Echidninarian. I just pray that they are more loyal to me, instead of their country.
"Women step up to the table please." The man yells. I exchange a look with Gray and Branwen, and step forward. We get into the line of girls waiting to be recruited.
"Don't screw this up!" Gray murmurs in my ear. I shrug.
"I won't. But there's no guarantee that you won't." I say calmly. She rolls her eyes.
"Keep rolling your eyes. Maybe you'll find a brain back there." I tell her. Ahead of me, Branwen stifles laughter. After spending a couple days together, both of us have determined that we don't like Gray very much. She is very rude and arrogant.
"At least I have a brain." She glares at me.
"At least I'm smart enough to use mine." I scowl back at her. We glare at each other until Branwen steps in between us.
"Let's save the killing for later guys." She tells us. I scowl again and turn around. I'm just about at the front of the line now. The lady in front of me steps aside and I walk up to the desk.
"Name?" Says the man at the desk.
"Leighfoo!" Gray shouts from behind me. I scowl.
"I go by Leigh thanks." I tell the man. He grunts and writes something down.
"You'll be in the kitchen then." He grunts. I raise my eyebrows.
"Why?" I ask. The man finally meets my eyes.
"Because girls can't fight." He laughs. Anger flares in my chest. Without thinking, I pull my knife from my waist and throw it at a target twenty feet away. It hits the bullseye with a dull thud. The room goes silent.
"Next time it's you." I mutter and stalk away.
Cutting up potatoes isn't what I thought I'd be doing today. It's certainly not what I wanted to be doing. I'm still brimming with anger at that stupid guy at the desk. Please-who says women can't fight! I'm just as good as many of the men in this camp-yet I'm the one stuck cutting vegetables. I haven't seen Branwen or Gray yet, but I'm assuming they are also here somewhere. I'm also mad at Gray for giving me that stupid nickname. I throw my potatoes in a pot and hand it to another lady. I slump against the wall.
"None of us envisioned this when we decided to join the army." A girl sits next to me. I look over at her tiredly.
"No kidding. This is so dumb." I sigh. The girl huffs.
"Tell me about it." She smiles.
Maybe it's the nerves. Or the exhaustion. Or the sheer terror of being here. But for some reason I think this is hilarious. I start to laugh. The other girl does too. We are just sitting in the kitchen laughing like there's no tomorrow.
"Oi! Get off of your lazy butts!" A plump woman comes at me wielding a heavy iron pan. I laugh some more, then roll away.
By the time dinner rolls around, I've been reprimanded several times. The cook shoves a big pot of soup at me.
"Take this out to the men. And no funny business." She glares at me. I smirk at her and walk out of the kitchen before she can yell at me so more.
It feels so nice to be out of the kitchen my spirits are immediately lifted. Sure I'm under the Echidninarian sky, undercover in the enemy camp. But you have to look on the bright side. Cup half full right? It could be worse. Not by much, but still.
I walk to a small table and put the heavy pot down. I grab the ladle and spoon soup into each mans wooden bowl.
"Look who it is! Miss I-wannabe-a-soldier!" Somebody yells. I look up. The man I threatened today is standing in front of me.
"Look who it is! It's Mr-I'm-scared-of-a-girl!" I respond sarcastically. The guys around him laugh.
"The pretty ones are always little firecrackers." A random man says. I roll my eyes, but don't say anything. I'm already sure I'm going to pay for my previous remark, and I want to minimize the damage. I continue dishing out the soup. Somebody grabs a lock of my hair, and twirls it around their finger. I slap the hand away.
"If you want to keep your fingers, you'll keep your hands off of me!" I growl. The circle of men laugh. I look around. I am surrounded.
This is bad.
I can't let myself get discovered. I need to escape. Instinct takes over as I tip over the pit of soup.
Instant pandemonium erupts. I push my way through the crowd of men and run as fast as I can. When I'm sure I've lost any angry pursuers, I stop and lean against a tent to catch my breath.
I feel hands on my back, and then I go flying against the ground. I wince in pain, then look up at my attackers. The man I insulted stands there, with two of his cronies.
And they look mad.
I begin to get up, but the man pushes me back down again.
"You think you can do better then me? You think your equal to a man. You're nothing but vermin. Dirt. Filth. Your not worthy of being called a girl." He growls.
"You're not worthy of being called either gender. And I know I can do better then you." I spit back. I know I'm getting in even more trouble, but this man deserves to be taken down a couple of pegs. I reach for my knife only to realize it's not there. It was confiscated after I threw it.
This is really bad.
The three men draw swords. I stand up. If I'm going to die, I'm going to go down fighting. These men are two feet taller, and 150 pounds heavier. I can use that to my advantage. Before they can strike, I choose one, and kick him where nobody wants to be kicked. He falls to the ground, and I grab his sword.
There. Now at least I'm armed. The other two attack.
I slice, and dodge, and cut. My arm stings from where they got in a lucky hit, and my bad shoulder burns. My doctor said I would always feel pain in it, but I can minimize that by letting it heal. Right not, I'm not doing a great job. A shadowed figure comes beside me and strikes at my attackers. With the combined strength from the two of us, we manage to send the assailants running. I begin to run the other way. This person just saved my life, but that doesn't mean they are a good person. But they quickly catch up to my and grab my bad arm. I bite my lip to keep from screaming in pain.
"Sorry!" They whisper. I frown. I know that voice. I turn around and push the hood they are wearing off of their head. I sigh in exasperation and glare at the person.
"What are you doing here!"
YOU ARE READING
The Final Hour
Fantasy"It's like there's a brick wall in my heart. If I let my guard down-even for just a second, then that wall will collapse, and everything I've bottled up over the years will come flooding out and drown me. If I start crying now, then I don't know if...
