3A story I did for school. Creative Writing class, actually. We had some type of theme project, and this came out. My teacher absolutely loved it. I hope you will like it, too...
He Who Lives By the Sword…
Lungs burning. Swords clashing. Max's legs felt like lead as he danced around his opponent, his evasions growing weaker by the second. The trees seemed to spin around him, the sun glaring in his eyes. Hopefully, his enemy would be blinded as well, but then again it didn't matter too much—he was wounded, and his enemy had barely been scratched.
He was wheezing now. His lungs had been weak ever since he had nearly died from tuberculosis only—how long had it been now?—only a year or two ago. Another lunge, badly judged, but enough to slash his jerkin and reawaken him from his daze. Too late.
Again the enemy leapt, and he knew it was the end for him. As the life slipped away from his slender body, he found himself casting his mind back one final time to how this had all begun…
"Hubris!" Max's tutor slapped the back of his hand with the foil as the boy overbalanced again during a lunge, almost falling. "Pride. Hubris takes over your mind, and once it has a hold of you, never lets go. It leaves none of its victims alive, as you should know well from your studies.
"Just now, for instance. You thought you had me, did you not? Your pride caused you to commit yourself too much to the blow, and you lost your balance. Were this a true battle, you would have died, many times over. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Yes, sir." The boy was crying, his pride hurt, but he knew that his tutor was right—he still needed to control his temper and pride when fighting.
His tutor shook his head. "No, you don't understand…yet. You are not yet ready for that, though someday, perhaps on the edge of death, you may." Suddenly, he clapped his hand on Max's shoulder. "But otherwise, your training is going very well. We've worked for ten hours straight—May I suggest we adjourn until tomorrow?"
Max bowed his head and walked slowly and with a dignified pace back to his room. Once he got inside, he closed and locked the door before collapsing onto his bed and letting out a huge sigh. "I'm exhausted!" he cried, before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Five years later, Max had grown into a slim young man. He wasn't exactly handsome, as he bore many scars on his face and body from training, but he managed perfectly well without the attentions of any ladies. But he was a good fighter, both hand-to-hand combat (almost any style) and with a foil, and some small skill with an epée. Then came the attack.
The long-time enemies of the kingdom, the Harangues, had been mounting a force for many years. Finally, there was an unexpected strike. No battle was fought, the attack had been too sudden. It was a slaughter. The entire kingdom was wiped out, save for a few survivors that had hidden.
Max had fought, but who can fight an enemy the constantly strikes from behind? He was struck down at last near the end of the battle and left for dead. When he regained consciousness at last, he was appalled at the sight of bodies littered on the ground as far as the eye could see. Were he not of a strong mind (and stomach), he would have fainted or thrown up. As it was, he wept at the senselessness of it all. Then he raised his head, startled. There was a sound of footsteps, and not too far away by the sound of them.
"What? Is someone still left alive?" Max stood and walked cautiously towards the sound. "Who's there?" There was a whoosh, and suddenly he felt a katana blade at his throat.
"Don't move, Hydroginean," someone hissed. The blade was cold and unavoidable. Max thought that he was going to die, but instead of begging for his life, he spun to face his opponent…
And found himself looking into the fierce, deep eyes of a female warrior. She was striking, with a long scar running down her cheek, and dark features, which were currently contorted with rage. Max instantly fell in love.
"Kill me, then, if you want to," he said softly. "I have fought hard, but I was caught off guard. Victory is yours."
She seemed a bit thrown off. Usually, her victims would beg or plead for their lives, offering her anything for a few moments more of life. But this one…he did not. And that emotion in his eyes made her uneasy. Then she froze as she felt a dagger pressing against her stomach.
"Tsk, tsk, milady. You let your concentration slip. I wonder how you've managed to survive so long in battle. By the way, what is your name?"
"I am Swordsmistress Kariana," she replied.
"I am Prince Maximillion, also known as Max."
Kariana gasped. "A prince?" Then her face darkened. "So that is why you were allowed to live. Prophecy says that the prince of Hydroginea will not die in this battle, for he was fated to suffer, then die far from here."
Max was astonished. He had never heard of such a prophecy before this. But who was he to question fate? Lowering his head, he walked away from the battlefield.
"Wait!"
Kariana raced after him, but he pressed his sword against her neck and hissed, "If you follow me, you will suffer as I will. I do not want that, so go back to your home. Leave me to take this alone!" She looked at him, hurt. He turned and left her there on the field. He never saw her again.
Afterwards, he had indeed suffered. Tuberculosis was just the beginning. Anyone he tried to get close to ended up dying, and he could never settle down. At last, he had met his fate here, in a forest far from his homeland, killed by a man who had no reason to fight him except for the fact that he was a killer.
Max reached his hand to his chest. It came away sticky and dark with his own blood. 'So dizzy…I just want to rest.' His vision began to blur.
His opponent laughed softly and removed her mask. "Rest, fool, for all eternity. I would love to stay longer, but I have an appointment. Ta ta."
"Kariana?! But…but why?" Kariana did not reply, but stalked off into the forest, leaving only her mocking laughter behind. Darkness closed over Max for the final time.
Night. The stars glittered overhead, the only light in the forest. A vampire walked over to the body of the young man. He still had the tiniest spark of life, but what the vampire really wanted, of course, was the blood. It was still warm and hadn't settled yet. Perfect.
Max groaned. "What…happened?" Why am I not dead?
"I found you in the forest and brought you to my castle," said the vampire. "I am Mordicane, and I have heard much about you, Maximillion. You should not die yet."
"But why?"
"Why rescue you or why should you not die?"
"Both. Why shouldn't I die? And why rescue me if you know that anyone who helps me will perish?"
Mordicane shrugged. "You needed help. Should there be any other reason?"
"But why bother helping? I'm fated to die anyway."
"You should not give up so easily, especially considering there never really was a prophecy in the first place." Mordicane began laughing. "You are such a fool. You were so ready to accept what the world throws at you. I had to save you so perhaps you could repair what was left of your life!"
"So Kariana tricked me?"
"The little swordswench? Indeed she did, and you fell for it completely." Mordicane continued to laugh as Max turned red with embarrassment.
At last, the vampire stopped laughing. Wiping away tears of merriment, he continued, "You can start by finding the woman's master. Her trail should still be fresh. Do you feel well enough to walk?" Max nodded mutely. "Good! Then we start immediately."
"But why did she trick me?" Max asked. Mordicane stifled another laugh as they walked under the cool green leaves of the forest.
"You have a very accepting nature. You are easily tricked because of that, and Kariana had the added advantage of you being enamored with her. Somehow she knew about your personality, and then…you know the rest."
Max glared at the other man. "You have answered how, not why."
"That is because I do not know why, obviously." Suddenly, he sniffed the air. "They're here," he said. "Three of them, and armed. Among their number is Lady Kariana."
Max drew his sword. "Let them come. I am prepared."
Bell-like laughter drifted down from the trees. "Do you truly think so, Prince? That vampire is the one tricking you."
Other voices joined in. "Yes, he is in league with us."
"He'll kill you if he has a chance, and do you truly want that kind of death? How ignoble!" A spear flew out of nowhere and landed, quivering, at Max's feet. "Our way is swifter."
"As is mine!" a new voice cried. From behind the pair hurtled a new figure, armed with bow, arrow, and saber. A figure Max recognized, though years of separation had caused changes.
"Jocasta?" he cried. Seeing his aunt, whom he had assumed dead, after so many years almost caused an emotional overload. However, he snapped back to reality just in time to dodge another spear attack. Jocasta sent a miniature volley of arrows into the thrower's direction in return, and was rewarded by a choked-off death cry.
"You little—" That voice, too, was cut off by a well-placed arrow. Now only Kariana remained, hidden somewhere.
"Come out, lady, if indeed we can call you that!" Jocasta shouted. There was no reply, save for a bird chirping sweet nothings to its mate.
Finally, "I am no lady, that is true. I am merely a huntress. Maximillion, you asked earlier why trick you? Why, for the sport of it, the fun in watching my prey writhing in agony and indecision. However, you received support, from a vampire no less; I congratulate you on gaining his sympathies, and from your relative."
"So all of that…the war, the false prophecy, all of that was for the single purpose of hunting me?"
Kariana chuckled. "Of course. I do whatever I can to ensure the greatest game I can create. But I suppose failure must be expected as well." She sighed. "I was getting bored with the whole business anyway. Perhaps you can now try hunting me…" Her voice faded into the distance and disappeared.
Max just stood there for a moment, too stunned to speak. A heavy silence hung over the trio before Jocasta finally spoke up.
"Well, here we are, three outcasts with no home, and one who cannot stand the sun. Anyone vote for becoming mercenaries?" Max stared at his aunt, but as he didn't really have anything else to do for the rest of his life, he nodded.
Mordicane did too, but not before quipping, "I hope we don't get any light work." Max and Jocasta smiled, for what seemed the first time in years since Hydroginea was lost, and together the three of them continued along through the forest towards whatever chance happened to throw in their path. There are stories of that, but those are for another place and another time.
Author's note: Mordicane was a fun character to write. He was both serious and humorous, without being too annoying. And noble. Plus, I like night scenes, so a vampire was perfect for this part. He was recycled from Vampire's Kiss, which never really got off the ground, and I thought:, "What a shame if he went into the trash." So here he is!
And yes, Kariana is the evilest being alive, I know. I deliberately left an open ending, so maybe I'll write a sequel someday. Vote! If I get enough 'ayes', I'll attempt a sequel. And review!
Oh, yes, on another random note: My teacher thought this story would be about a boy named Hubris. Vote for this, too, and maybe I'll put up a story about him!