Slowly crouching down in the sparse brush, Illuvia’s breath was steady, ignoring the chilly morning air in her lungs. Their target’s camp lay ahead, haphazardly spread beneath the shadow of a ridge. There were a collection of tents uncoupled in design and arrangement coiling around a central fire. The pommel of her longsword was already in her hand, and her sharp eyes watched for movement. This was it. This moment was the culmination of months of pursuit, it was sleepless nights, and bitter losses.
Her rank didn’t allow her to be in command, but she had a purpose. The people they sought were the ones who had betrayed the Empire. She’d been tasked with finding them and while she had been unsuccessful doing things on her own, the Empire’s intelligence network had proved quite useful. These villains had gotten away with it for too long. Soon it would end.
Silence was broken by a low voice. A higher up growled, barely hidden himself in the rocks, “Alright, listen up! The sentries at the perimeter, the main group's by the fire. We hit fast and quiet. No mercy for these bastards. Understood?”
The soldiers affirmed. Illuvia tightened her grip on her sword. She wasn’t here for speeches. She was here to fight.
The squad moved and the advance began. They were not the most stealthy group. In fact, they were probably pretty obvious but even if they were banging pots and pans it wouldn’t give their enemies enough time to escape a fight.
The flickering of fire light upon the scene made the colors of many oranges and blacks. Suddenly and brutally they came at them, chaos erupting like a spark set to dry grass. From Illuvia’s left, a soldier launched into the firelight, his sword going into the back of an enemy not paying attention. The man cried out in a strangled voice and fell forward dead before he hit the ground. Battle cries of the rest of the squad mixed with the shocked shouts of their enemies.
With purpose, Illuvia had moved, sword already out, the familiar weight already an extension of her body. She leapt forward, pounding her boots into the hard packed earth with the firelight reflecting on the steel in her hands.
Her first opponent showed alarm as he saw that Illuvia’s blade cut through the air so quickly. He jumped back but a few more steps later and steel bit deep into his ribs, slicing through meat and bone as brutally efficient as it was. His weapon clattering from his hand, he crumpled to the ground and Illuvia stepped over him without breaking stride. Every movement of hers was fluid and precise, every strike built to expend the least amount possible of energy with the greatest lethal outcome.
An axe was raised high by another marauder rushing at her. His swing was wild and when Illuvia met it she did so with a sharp upward parry. Her arm was strained by the blow but she twisted her wrist and deflected the axe wide. Stepping into him, her blade found an opening in his armor where he seemed to have forgotten to protect himself. She thrust her sword into his chest, the point emerging clean through his back. Blood bubbled from his lips as he gasped and slumped against her before she shoved him off her blade.
The storm of chaos around her swirled. Through the crackle of the central fire the marauders rose, now to fight for their own lives, and they too began to scream and shout in return. Her senses were so sensitive, Illuvia caught glimpses of steel and the firelight catching off the bloodied blades.
Another attacker came at her. His strike was brutal and kept coming in more brutal arcs, strong enough to shatter bone. The weapon buzzed by illuvia's head, less than an inch away. She slipped it under the first swing. On her heel, she pivoted, and though the second strike came swiftly nearly slamming into her, sidestepping it as her cloak flared into the air behind her. She flashed her blade out, slicing across his forearm. His grip faltered, he bellowed in pain, and she followed up with a clean thrust to his throat. Her sword tip punched through muscle, windpipe, silencing him mid roar.
The tide of battle shifted about her. The enemy began forming small clusters in which to mount defense. Three of them were gathered near a stack of crates on the camp’s edge, Illuvia’s sharp gaze picked out. The string one of them already had strung tight, and his bow trained on her comrades.
“Bowman!” Illuvia’s voice sliced through the chaos despite her rank. She couldn’t give orders, but she couldn’t hesitate. Lives were at stake, and she felt that if they weren’t dealt with then they would be in trouble.
At her warning, two soldiers turned, shields raised, as the bowman loosed his arrow. The shaft hit one shield with a solid thunk, the impact shuddering down the soldier’s arm. The second soldier charged too, beating his shield into the bowman’s chest before the bowman could notch another arrow. The marauder staggered back, the force sending him into the crates, and the soldier finished the threat with a quick, decisive strike.
Her attention narrowed to the close quarters combatants and Illuvia turned back to the fray, searching out her next target. Illuvia’s back was whacked by a polearm and she turned in time to deflect a follow up thrust. The blow numbed her arm, but she twisted her body and used her momentum to wrench the spear aside. The marauder’s side was cut through by her sword. He gurgled and dropped, and she didn’t give him another glance.
She was drawn to the far side of the camp by a roar. A hulking brute with a two handed sword was cutting a swath through the Imperial ranks, the intelligence had spoken of this one as one of their biggest threats in the camp. Soldiers scrambled to avoid his heavy blows, one misstep and you were dead.
Through the melee, the combatants, Illuvia pushed weaved between forces until she came face to face with him.
He spat, raising his massive blade, “Another Imperial dog. Come on, then!”
Illuvia didn’t waste breath on words. Her body glowed with supernatural power as she enhanced her strength and speed across her whole body. It didn’t take long for her to lunge for his midsection. The force of the impact jarring her arms when he parried. He cut her off with a sweeping slash, that she ducked under, feeling the wind of his blade as it passed over her head.
Strength wasn’t everything, but he was definitely strong. When she pressed the attack her movements were calculated and precise. Her sword bit at his arms and legs, darting in and out of his reach. She was too quick and he roared in frustration, swinging wildly.
He overextended at last, his massive blade slamming into the ground just before he got poked by her blade. Stumbling back he clutched at the wound Illuvia caused in his chest as his eyes widened in shock. She didn’t hesitate. A second thrust ended it.
The large man’s death broke their morale. Others ran into the dark, to be cut down by soldiers waiting in the dark. They dropped their weapons and the rest surrendered with trembling hands. For a minute illuvia caught her breath, leaning on her sword. The camp was a scene of devastation around her. The fire crackled, uncaring of the carnage, bodies littered the ground.
“Secure the prisoners!” her leader barked. “Check for wounded!”
The soldiers moved quickly but carefully. Some men started to tie up the trembling marauders who had surrendered, while others hunted through the wreckage for any sign of life among the fallen. Straitening, her sword, hanging limp at her side. She looked in the area, searching for a quiet place, where she could get just a moment to be by herself. One of the prisoners was the leader of the camp, the one in charge of leaking information from the Empire. Illuvia recognized him from the intelligence reports as an ex soldier.
Sheathing her blade she slowly stalked toward a log and each step was heavier than the last. She rested on the log and sat, leaning forward, her arms resting on her knees. She stared at her hands, still smeared with blood - some her own, most not - and they trembled slightly.
In her minds eye the fight replayed itself, it was vivid, unrelenting. She thought of the marauders' wild desperation in their eyes, the sickening crunch of steel meeting flesh, the gurgled cries of men whose lives she had removed from them. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, tried to will her heart to steady its race.
Even after all these years, it was never easy. The mind, however, that was different. Every battle had its scar, a deep scar in her psyche. Those wounds would never truly heal, Illuvia wasn’t sure. She thought of the big man she had killed. His strength was undeniable, he had been a brute, but his final moments stuck with her. But it wasn’t guilt she felt, it was a deep weariness. Every life taken was another weight she had to bear.
A soldier approached their leader, hesitated, and spoke. “We’ve got the prisoners secured and we’re collecting the weapons.”
Without looking at him, the leader nodded. “Good. Keep it up.”
Illuvia tilted her head back and stared up at the stars as the soldier moved off. She allowed herself this moment of stillness for now. Now that they had the prisoners, they could find out just how deep the rabbit hole went. Were there more leakers to hunt down? Or was this the end?
The moment of stillness for Illuvia was short lived. The air was cold against her skin, and these stars were no different than any others - they wouldn't really help. She pushed the weariness from her limbs and let out a slow breath. There was still work to be done, and rest would have to wait. She rose from the log, adjusting her armor and looking in the direction of the place where the prisoners were being held. The rush of activity in the camp had quieted, and the camp was now settling into the grim efficiency of cleaning up after battle. Men were dragging weapons and other spoils and tending to the wounded.
Two guards watched over the prisoners huddled together. Some looked blankly ahead, not reacting, others glared defiantly, their jaws set, as if they weren't quite finished yet. She didn’t draw her sword or do anything threatening. A few paces away, she stopped and crossed her arms, looking at them. They were the men who had caused her so much trouble.
“You think you’ve won? Drag us back to your city or kill us here, it doesn’t matter. You’ll never root us all out,” one said.
Illuvia’s face didn’t change. She didn’t answer, didn’t rise to the bait. The man’s words were bravado, empty bravado, an attempt to claw back some sense of power after his defeat. She merely sighed and kept walking until she got to her leader. She was finally rested enough to help out, and needed more orders.
