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Last Blade by N1nj45tyl3

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Chapter notes: >.> alright since you asked for it, gonna work on it again...or at least try to...
PROLOGUE


They happily tossed me out into the arena much to the disgust of the crowd. I rolled around in the coarse dirt until I came to a sudden painful stop against the rack that held my weapons and armor. It all came crashing down on top of me, much to the amusement of my…adoring fans…
I gathered what little respect I had for myself and climbed wearily to my feet. My hands were still bound by strong iron cuffs, making it difficult to even fathom donning any armor. So this fight would proceed like the last dozen or so fights I had been forced to participate in. I would not give them the privilege of seeing me beg for my life. They have yet to earn that right. Besides, they only hated me from the lies the royal family had put out against me.
That was kind of my fault though, but oh well. This is what I get for being a good friend. Such a damn good friend indeed.
“Today Ladies and Gentlemen,” To this day I had never learned the announcers name, but I did recognize his face. Once I finally got myself out of this predicament, I would surely pay him a visit. A very personal visit of the killing sort. “We bring to you, what we all hope, is the end of the wretched life of the Kingdom Killer.”
He had such a nice way with words. I barely managed to push the weapons rack off my brittle frame. I had taken a lot of beatings the last few days. I would show you the scars from where the Torture-Masters whip tore away flesh, but I’m still very shy about my body. I wasn’t sure if my body could take much more of both this, and my daily dose of beatings.
A freshly plucked, rotten vegetable exploded against my left cheek. It was always like this. First a tomato, then a head of lettuce, followed cleanly by manure. Once I even was once blessed with urine. Yum!
The juices from the tomato leaked into my good eye, irritating it. I angrily rubbed at the infection as I made my way to the center of the arena to face my opponent. I was forsaking choosing weapons and armor this time around because I wanted to hurry up and eat. One of the few things I actually looked forward to during these arbitrary painful days.
“Today’s champion hails from the Kingdom of Barkely,” The announcer was still talking as I looked up at the steel titan I was supposed to fight. His armor looked amazing on him. An entire polished silver set of armor, encrusted with an angel spearing a demon through its chest with an obnoxiously long halberd. Did I mention my opponent was holding said halberd in his left hand, while tucked under his right armpit was his just as fantastically decorated helm. His face was amazing, truly a man to die for. A lean square chiseled jaw, dark chestnut brown eyes, hair as fine thread and as golden as the sun. Had I not been in the situation I was in I would’ve probably begged to polish his boots for a mere pat on the head.
“He comes to obtain the reward placed on the head of this…this demon spawn from hell.”
“Thanks for the introduction.” I sighed inwardly, but gave my would-be-executioner a light-hearted smile.
“You know you’re very cute.” I said, catching him off guard. “It’s a shame I look terrible, and meeting under such circumstances…” I tried my best to look as innocently cute as possible, but he wasn’t buying it. Not for a second.
“Are you going to beg me for mercy already?” He sure seemed confident. “If so, you should shut your mouth. Once I defeat you, and hand your head to the King, I’ll have enough money to start my very own kingdom.”
“What’s your name?” I batted my eye, still smiling, but hurting on the inside. I tucked some loose strands of hair behind my ear, hoping he’d just continue to talk to me. It’s not everyday a girl meets the man of her dreams you know.
He stared at me, and after a moments contemplation he answered me with a bitter laugh. “I am Kinson Der-Villheim of Barkely. The man who is going to put an end to your misery.”
“Nice to meet you,” I bowed slightly. “I am R-”
“I know your name very well little girl.” Okay, now he was just being rude. He took a quick glance at my face and smiled arrogantly. “Enough talk, prepare yourself.”
He donned his helm and took an aggressive posture, halberd raised and aimed at my face.
I sighed loudly, raising my shackles to eye level just so he could see that I was unarmed.
“Please can’t we just-”
Whoof!
I gracefully avoided his first strike, he never saw me move, a trick I had learned from her. He kept coming at me, thrusting and swinging his weapon with the intent of either cutting me in half, or taking my head off my shoulders in one harsh violent swing. He backed me up against the far wall of the arena, trapping me in-between two spiked pillars.
I let myself scream and began acting as if I was beginning to panic as soon as my back had touched the cold stone wall. He let one of the most vicious primal screams I had ever heard, escape his lips as he brought his weapon high over his head and forcefully brought it down on mine….
…or so he thought.
He stared at the empty space in front of him in complete amazement. Just like ever other gladiator that I’ve encountered so far.
“You can still walk away.” I spoke into his ear and he’d jumped with surprised, not realizing that I had been sitting on his right shoulder the entire time. He screamed and stumbled backwards, throwing me off. I landed neatly on my feet, curiously watching him try to recompose himself. He clenched both his fists in anger, took a vicious step towards me and suddenly stopped.
“Oh, you were looking for this?” I dropped his halberd to the ground. Did I forget to mention that I had taken that? Oops…I have to keep up with that stuff. Anyway, had I been able to see his face, I think he’d would’ve had something of frustration or surprise plastered across it.
“You Cyclops!!” He shouted, drawing his spare sword.
Okay, now I was mad. He had no reason to call me outside my name. Especially since I was taking it easy on him. He rushed towards me, his blade aimed for my neck. I raised my hands slightly, carefully trapping the blade in my left hand. I heard the crowd behind me gasp, my opponent shook in utter, complete shock.
“Sleep soundly,” I quickly chanted the spell as I looked deep inside my enemy’s helm, into his pretty brown eyes. “Blade of Nightmares.”
Four large unholy swords materialized out of the air. At once all four blades pierced his body, and then proceeded to shred his magnificent frame into unrecognizable beautiful chunks of steel and blood stained flesh. He had no time to scream, or even react. My blades finished their work just as fast as they’d appeared. I casually stepped through the gore, silently wishing things were different. Wishing that I had never even been put in this situation in the first place. I sighed again, actually sad this time.
The crowd was in a complete uproar, and I couldn’t blame them. I’d be upset too, if the person I despised kept killing all the young beautiful champions the world had to offer. As I made my way back to my guards, ignoring the death threats and produce being hurled in my direction, I began to finally reflect on the incident that had brought me to this position in the first place…

Ravey

It was my birthday, of all days, that began my bad luck. My parents had just informed me of my upcoming marriage to one Jeferty Damascal Young Lord of Souther Oakenvale, a small county located at border of the Holy Kingdom of Samarra. I was absolutely furious at the news, for I myself had already chosen the man I would marry myself. Biggs Malary had been my neighbor for as long as I could remember. He had left the town a year before to become a Squire in His Majesty’s Royal Army. He had no clue that I had chosen him to become my husband, and I hadn’t the chance to tell him before he left.
Since his departure, though I had decided that he would make a fine husband for me, and once I turned fifteen, I would be old enough to journey up to the Capital City of Naile and introduce myself as his lovely wife. So to say that my parents totally went behind my back and cut the ankles of my plans is an understatement.
“I will not marry him!” I screamed at my mother, who hadn’t a clue to why I was upset. “He’s a pig! A lout! A-a..” I couldn’t think of a word at the moment, which gave her enough time to make an attempt to convince me that matter that fat, pimpled faced noble was the right thing to do.
“Dear, please this is for the best. You are lucky to have caught the eyes of the son of the Count.” My mother attempted to console me, but I seriously already had my mind made up.
“I could care less if he was the crowned Prince of Samarra mother!” My face was probably red with anger, as I turned and unleashed my voice, the loudest I had ever raised it in front of my mother. “I will not marry him!”
“Will not marry who?” My father stepped inside my house, wiping dirt off his hands with a rag he’d always kept tucked in the back of his pants.
“Father,” I pushed past my mother and looked at my father with the plea-filled kitten eyes I’ve always used to make him do what I want. “Mother says I must marry the son of the Count.”
My fathers eyes went from me, to my mother. I followed his gaze, to his exhausted wife. My mother was on the verge of tears, as she picked up a chair I had knocked over earlier and sat down. She buried her face in her hands, and I honestly felt sorry for her. She wanted the best for me, just like my father, however I was not about to submit myself to the whims of an aristocrat, especially since I already had someone else in mind. You see I’m not a very materialistic person, I just like to have what I want. That’s all.
“Tell me why you don’t wish to marry the son of the great lord who rules these souther lands?” My father asked as he gently took me by the arm and directed me to sit down at our dining table.
“Father,” I began, still upset, and hysterical. “Everyone knows that the man is a pig. He does not want me for marriage, he just wants me to be one of his concubines, or servants, and I…” My father raised his hand, stopping my rant.
“I honestly don’t know where you come up with these ideas.” He shook his head with a irritated laugh. “The counts son is not a pig, and if he wishes to add you to his family, then you will go along with it. It is his right to choose who he wants to be with. Besides, I have already agreed to the marriage proposal and so will you.”
“Are you insane!” I never once raised my voice to my father before then. Honest. I love both my parents, but for them to make one of the most important decisions in my life without me was an outrage. My father glared at me with eyes that would shut the mouth of even the king himself. “I will not go along with-”
I was on the ground holding my cheek with both my hands crying before I had even realized that my father had slapped me. I never saw him reach across the table.
“This matter is settled. In a weeks time you’ll be married to the son of Count Damascal, and you’ll live a life I could never give you.”
“If you weren’t such a coward maybe we wouldn’t be living like we are now!” Okay, now I’ll be the first to admit that it was uncalled for me to say that. My father had been a knight once. Master Sergeant of Arms T’Erantyebn Halfshire. The stories I’ve heard from around the village state that my father, fought in some great war before I was born. However his company was decimated and he was the sole survivor of that conflict. He never once spoke of this to me, but whenever Biggs would come over, he would have my father tell him great stories of the past. But anyway its this particular battle, that they say my father ran away to save his own skin, instead of dying in battle with his comrades. Not long after he met my mother and they had me. By the look in his eye, and with the ferocious impact that nearly shook the room as his tiny chair shook the floor as he stood up, frightened me.
“What. Did. You. Say?” I could see the whites of his eyes as he picked me up by the throat, his fist clenched tightly around my small thin neck.
“T’Erantyebn! You’ll kill her!” My mother pleaded for my life, just enough to break my fathers crazed rampage. He dropped me onto the floor and I lay there gasping for breath.
“Get out.” My father ordered me, and though I felt as if all the energy had been forced out of me, I hurried out of the house and made my way into the streets of Oakenvale.

There’s this spot Biggs and I used to use for late night rendezvous’. It was a well hidden very discreetly behind a grove of trees just outside the city gate. I don’t know who put the well there, or even how many people knew of its existence. I had discovered the well while playing a game of hide and seek with the other children in town and since then no one was ever able to find me. When I arrived at my secret hiding spot I was surprised to find that it was already occupied. I was even more surprised to find one of the largest blades I’d ever seen pointed in my face.
The sword was about as long my father is tall, that’s not even taking in account the hilt, which was as wide and long as my entire arm. Honestly, it resembled a giant slab of steel welded to a heavy iron bar. That being said, the weapon was obviously sharpened to a fine edge, and yet despite all this, the most frightening thing wasn’t its size, but the immense heat that was radiating from the cold steel slab.
“Sh’rei’jk.” At the time I couldn’t see the wielder of the titanic weapon, just a voice with a weird tongue and a weak sounding rasp. I stayed silent, still overwhelmed with shock, and after a few seconds the giant blade slammed against the ground and I was finally allowed to see the owner of the huge weapon. “Di’ak. Keli mersh.”
At first glance you would think that the young, limber, wounded woman in front of me was human. She had hair as red as scarlet, light brown skin that obviously told the naked eye that she was alien to these lands. The pupils in her eyes were light grey, however they didn’t belong to a human…they were more feral…
The ears on the top of her head twitched nervously. She coughed once, then vomited water all over her chest. I didn’t know whether to assist her, or to run away. She placed her eyes on me, and for a moment I forgot my own problems, so I rushed to her side. She allowed me to run my hands across her body, and they came back bloody. I wasn’t a healer, which left me very little choice in what I could do to comfort her suffering. I ripped off pieces of my shirt and used them to bandage what I could. I took the bucket sitting behind the well and drew some water for the stranger to drink.
I held the ladle next to her mouth ad she hungrily drank, to my amusement, like a thirsty kitten. After she’d drank her fill I set the bucket back in the well and sat next to her. I felt better about myself, though by all rights I should’ve been afraid, but I was inexplicably intrigued by this cat-like person.
“What’s your name?” I asked curiously. The cat-woman looked up at me with weary eyes. She tilted her head much like a confused dog would, then sniffed at me.
“Uur…naw..aime…?” She repeated back to me. Definitely a foreigner, but I had never heard of foreigners who looked like cats complete with furry ears and tail.
“My name is Ravey, Ravey Halfshire.” I touched my own chest as I introduced myself to her.
“Ra-have-vey?” She breathed, and I nodded with satisfaction. She could be taught.
“Disease, m’kare’ie Disease.”

I woke up as if in a daze. I had been talking to the stranger for a long while, when I suddenly found myself asleep by myself next to the well. The bright blue star of the Sapphire Goddess sat half-awake in the sky above me, illuminating the area next to the well to display a small, tan cat sleeping soundly on its side. At first I wondered where the small frail animal had come from. Honestly, hours earlier there had been a cat-person, wielding about a very heavy looking blade of steel and now, they were gone and in there place, a tiny, frail looking kitten.
I rubbed my eyes, curious of whether I should leave the cat there, and decided to take it home with me. I dismissed my earlier encounter as a my imagination, figuring that if I had told anyone about what had happened, they surely would believe me mad. I cuddled the kitten in my arms, being careful not to wake it, and made my way back home.
My father was at the door when I arrived back at my house. I guess he had been waiting up for me since I’d left.
“Sit,” He commanded, pointing at the free seat adjacent to him. I obeyed, for fear of upsetting him again. It had been the first time he’d ever laid hands on me, and I did not want to make a second time. “Listen, your mother and I want what’s best for you.”
“Yes sir,” I said softly.
“If you truly wish to not marry the counts son, then I won’t force it upon you.” I tried not to smile but couldn’t. I knew he would see it my way eventually, and learn of his mistake. As much as I wanted to leap into the air and shout and celebrate, I knew that sometimes it was best to accept the small victories and stay silent.
“Thank you.” I said, still cradling my newfound pet as if I was a new mother.
“What’s the name of your friend there?”
“Dissy,” I said. “Can she stay here? At least until she finds another home?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you father.” I rushed to his side of the table and kissed him on his forehead.
“Go to bed, I’ll go talk to the count tomorrow for you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I took myself to bed, placing my new sleeping friend on the pillow next to me. I had hoped to talk to my father again in a few days when he was in a better mood, and ask him about going to Naile to visit Biggs. But little did I know, that I would never be able to talk to him again.
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