Dance of Blades

The red lady watched silently. Her eyes tracked and traced every single movement, anticipated trails, even thoughts to her guard’s advances. She wasn’t sure what to think, other than their true strength was impossible to tell, because of the captain’s immeasurable ability. She smirked with pride, deciding that the men were too drained for now and could use a break. She allowed the click clack of her heavy boots to be heard upon the hard floor.

Upon arrival, she was most welcomed and even invited for a spar. She was up for it today, mostly. A little weak, but she would be fine. Perhaps it would even the field. But she refused to spar in front of others. She tried to veil her brutal nature as best she could nowadays.



”No. You know how it is. It is unsightly for a queen to do battle!” Her voice was lighthearted, joking, and mocking societal norms for queens. ”Besides, what does it say about my men, if a mere woman could take them down?” Her tone lathered even thicker with mocking the norms. She employed men, women, it did not matter as long as heapproved.

Her hair was up in a ponytail today; yet the length remained the same wavy, burning auburn mass that fell almost to her muscular ass. A few loose strands had leapt away from the binding at the back of her head, but all in all she was not extravagantly dressed as per usual. Today she wore a simple black cloak with small golden embroidery at the base that moves like amber waves as she walked. Upon further inspection, one could see she was fully equipped. Her special sword was at her side. But unseen were her true specialty weapons; the pair of cat’s eye sai she had tucked away for easy access.

”But unfortunately I am not up for sparring today. I am somewhat out of sorts at the moment.” She shook her head and unbeknownst to anyone but herself, she pressed a hand into her lower abdomen that was taking her said sorts. ”But I wouldn’t mind watching your training sessions.” No. Her brutal nature rose back to the surface. She didn’t mind her guards, but it was just fun for her to watch them now be expected to go through another full session, and still expected to show up early the next day. She saw the spark light up in Chazz’s eye as he planned the day for his troops.

”Hold him off until I arrive? Rather confident aren’t we? You will die? So motivational. You know how I disprove of you murdering my poor, important men.” her voice was sweet, and very mocking as she roughly cupped a nearby soldier’s cheeks in her hands; practically digging her bright red nails in his padded skin. She released him and sauntered back off to the side as he continued. She turned back to face them sharply, standing behind her guard.

He offered them to face him, and she pinched her lips to resist a laugh, but released when she flashed her trademark cruel smile. She realized they had no chance, but then again, perhaps they’d make her job easier. She waited to see what they would do; all the while knowing the pressure from her intimidating glare and Chazz’s skill was bearing down on all of them. She waited for him to be worn down before she would let the peons catch a rare glimpse of their queen’s power.

”A dance? You propose. Was my cloak not loose enough for you?” She easily lifted her cloak off her head to reveal her very revealing training leathers. Her hair remained perfectly in the band that lifted her fiery mane into a pony tail.


”You’re sending the men away? Do you fear they learn how to beat you? Or merely learn true power?” her royal voice surfaced. ”Men, as your commanding officer’s queen, I order you to sit in place while I discipline my dog.” Her callous jab, she knew, would do little damage.

She prepared herself for a block and counter while she casually initiated a spar with her new stance. Her favorite weapon of choice, her special battleaxe; today was a rare occasion she could break free. And today, she would not let him win so she’d have to bear it for the next year or so before she could break free again. Today, these men would catch a tiny glimpse of why she was their queen, and exactly why Chazz was their protector.

Images of people in pain, crying out, begging for the mercy she never gave dashed around behind her eyes. Perhaps she put those flames in the borders of the images, or maybe they were actually there, how could she tell? The memories were those that always haunted her, taunting her to relive them as her old self. The image that haunted her the most was the old ruler of Enya. He was doubled over from a wound in his gut, put there by a younger, more vicious version of Akane.

Chazz taunted her back into reality. Her sneer grew even more irritated, because he knew how she felt; but rebelled against it repeatedly. The pressure the kingdom put on her for her to produce an heir was beyond any burden she felt from her work. But she refused, she knew she could never truly love someone, her flesh and blood or not, until her “soul” was fixed. But can I really be fixed? I think it would be better to have a new blood take the throne when I’m gone. She shook her head, hoping her painful thoughts would fall out her ear.

Chazz grew visibly enraged at her word, dog. She smirked with her brows demonstrating her rage.

”Oh look, the dogs getting his bone. It’s the only one I ever threw at him. You soldiers know what a dog looks like right?” She held out her duskball and released Mr. Doom from inside. She ordered him to strut around in front of the men before joining them. ”You see men? Vicious, yet loyal to their master.” Her mocking of him had no surface effect.

They were an interesting pair to watch in spar. He, emotionless and precise; her, full of rage and passion and highly unpredictable. However, when he said princess she could feel her calm already begin to snap.

”I am your queen, you mutt!” She gripped her battleaxe in preparation for another counter.