Elanor and Valerius POV

  Elanor paces Valerius’s chambers impatiently, for someone with so much power, Valerius her bed-chamber does little to show it. A simple frame holds a low bed off the floor, the blankets just boring grey wool! At its foot sits an iron-bound chest. In the right corner stands a small writing desk, as a scribe in a monastery might use.

  The only object given over to vanity is a small mirror hung on the wall. Valerius’s dual-wielding short swords and bronze battle armour stand polished next to the window. What did she call them again, gladius blades? In any case, Elanor will most definitely decorate their chambers to her liking, this will not do for the future. But there are more urgent matters.

  she had listened to the chaos that ensued below as the night progressed, it’s been several hours since Valerius left, and it was almost dawn. Elanor decided enough was enough. Against Valerius’s wishes, she descended the tower's staircase, leaving their chambers. She passed by the dining hall where she saw the destruction that awoke Valerius from her sleep, Elanor is worried about her.

  She sees the many statues depicting Valerius’s god, Clypeus. Each statue is destroyed. Tossed around like a toddler’s plaything. The marble stone will be expensive to replace. Valerius’s stronghold resides so far north near the wasteland’s borders, there is nought but sand and dirt here. Elanor her steps echo through the great halls. Her shoes touch something wet pooling on the floor as she passes through the exit, she dares not look at the ground, but the metallic smell of blood does not escape her nose. Vile and unsanitary. That is not for noble eyes like hers to see.

  She asks around, every guard and legionnaire seems hurriedly mobilising for something. Her patience runs thin, she grabs a high-ranking centurion by the ear and pulls him down, “Where is your general? If you don’t know, find me someone who does.”

  The centurion seems hesitant but eventually mutters, “The general is outside near the south gate, inspecting the fallen. She wishes to not be disturbed.”

  Elanor frowns, “Will you bring me to her? I am sure Valerius does not wish me to remain unguarded.”

  The strong centurion seems hesitant. He looks over Elanor’s shoulders towards a commotion in the courtyard, “Fine, as the lady wishes. Follow me, avert your eyes from the escaped prisoners being. . . handled.”

  She smiles, “Splendid! I am sure you will get a promotion.”

  The sound of sword meeting flesh makes her jump. But she occupies her mind with the conversation she’ll soon have with Valerius.

  Elanor and the centurion reach the inner south gate. The wrought-metal gates are set sturdily in the huge and imposing wall that forms the redoubt of the stronghold, they look as if they could weather several dozen boulders launched from a siege engine with nary a scratch. Each rivet is uniform in its exactitude, the hinges of the gate cunningly armoured on the outside to ward off attacks against that weak point.

  Elanor yawns and spots Valerius inspecting a smaller body atop the mountain of corpses outside the wagon, Elanor averts her eyes not daring to look at the bodies. But she sees a smaller pile on the wagon next to the big pile. The centurion greets Valerius and kneels, “General! Lady Elanor wished to see you, ma’am.”

  Valerius straightens her shoulders, her muscles strain against her tunic, her short brown hair falls just past her ears. She towers over the feeble centurion and stares at him, “Sebastian, look at this child. What do you notice?”

  Elanor hears him gasp. Sebastian sputters, “The child is headless ma’am, they appear malnourished.”

  “Drained,” Valerius jumps down the wagon, “The child was drained, and all their blood was taken. Half the body is necrotic.” Elanor cannot help but catch a glance of the corpse, tears jump in her eyes. It’s the mute that brought them their breakfast every morning. Oh, poor sweet thing, what monster did that to you?

  Valerius continues, “We lost fifteen brave legionnaires. Sebastian, would you be so kind as to travel down to the metropolis to inform the families of our fallen and deliver these bodies, so they may be put to rest? The sullen workers have already prepared the bodies, so you have no worries of rotting corpses. The wagon is ready,”

  Valerius whistles to the wardens atop the wall and the south gate slowly opens itself.

  Sebastian grumbles to Elanor, “promotion huh?”

  The centurion does as he is told and sits atop the wagon. He looks at the contents in the wagon, alas each body is carefully wrapped. Sebastian thinks of Theull and Gerade, he swallows dryly at the thought of facing their families.

  Valerius hands him a sealed scroll of papyrus, and whispers something in his ear. His eyes widen.

  She then turns around and marches off, she is moving towards the gladiatorum where most legionnaires have gathered for Valerius her speech.

  Elanor walks alongside Valerius burning with curiosity,

  “What happened dear? It isn’t a siege; it wasn’t an assassination. Did your men rebel?”

  Valerius ignores Elanor and keeps walking, her face is carved in stone, unmoving.

  Elanor continues, “Val? By the gods is your tongue cut out? Why did you gather the legions? What’s happening?”

  Valerius grunts and keeps walking. Lost in her own thoughts.

  Elanor has had enough. Her face flashes in anger and she steps in front of Valerius. She is nearly trampled by this unstoppable force of a woman.

  Valerius’s bronze eyes dim in shock as she reflexively stops marching, not wishing to hurt her wife.

  Elanor angrily says, “You will speak to me now or so damn you and the gods! You may be a general to them, but you are my spouse. Treat me as such.”

  Valerius her bronze eyes glow with fury. She looks down upon Elanor. For a moment they stand opposed, Elanor is determined to not let this slide.

  The gates close as Sebastian passes through them, he's on his way to White Harbour. A battalion of men marches by towards the gladiatorum, some of their swords are bloody.

  Valerius clenches her jaw, her teeth grinding. She sighs and takes Elanor aside, “I apologise, my love. I did not have time to see you, I barely have time now. All the prisoners were set free, and they caused havoc. I suspect it was a diversion set by-” Valerius hesitates, she has trouble finding the words, “-our most dangerous prisoner, the champion of bloodlust.”

  Elanor gives her a puzzled look, trying to see if Valerius is lying to her, “That doesn’t make sense. If you had the champion of bloodlust, why didn’t you kill it?”

  Valerius’s nostrils flare as she retorts, “That is not of importance. Look all that matters now is that we need to catch that prisoner before it reaches the oasis in the wastelands. Even experienced sentinels cannot stand against the wildebeests for long in an open field.”

  Elanor’s face retorts in a grimace, “no, no no no! You are not going on a wild goose chase. You have several legions. You will stay at my side! Send them without you. Your uncle Hephast! Legate Hephast, he could lead the chase.”

  Valerius shakes her head, “I need to lead Elanor. I cannot cower behind these walls while I send my men on a mission. They need me against any potential wildebeests. I will pass the canyon and we will track that monster on foot.” Valerius holds Elanor’s hands and brings them to her chest, “My dear. I will return unharmed. You have my word.”

  Elanor’s eyes prickle, she embraces Valerius and hugs her as tight as she can, “Why did I fall in love with someone who puts herself in such peril, I thought generals were too valuable to lose on the frontlines.”

  Valerius doesn’t respond, and instead embraces Elanor too. Lifting her with the ease of a feather. Valerius twirls her around and smiles, her white noble teeth sparkling in the blazing dawn. Elanor blushes and grabs Valerius her mouth pulling her close for a passionate kiss. She puts her arms around her neck and bites Valerius’s bottom lip, giggling.

  While panting after the long kiss Elanor whispers, “Dream of what we would’ve done had you stayed, love.”

  Elanor jumps out of Valerius her arms and begins to walk towards the gladiatorum. She looks back at Valerius.

  Valerius doesn’t know what to look at first. Elanor’s eyes or her body. She hates to see her go, but loves watching her leave.

  Elanor takes a seat behind the podium to witness the speech.

  Valerius puts her hand to her mouth, blushing. Her bronze eyes barely glow, almost back to her normal eye colour. She pushes out these ungodly thoughts and makes her way to the podium, two cohorts joining her at either side.

  Before Valerius can step onto the podium in the gladiatorum she hears a voice, “ppstt! General. A word please?”

  She rolls her eyes and turns to face the ratty Senator named Norvegicus. Her mouth contorts in disgust as she stares at the oval bald spot on the senators head. It’s supposed to represent an eye, but it looks ridiculous.

  “I’m quite busy Senator Norvegicus. Could this wait until after my speech? If you would be so kind.”

  The ratty senator sniffles, and shakes his head. His two hands resting on his belly, “I’m afraid not general. As you’ve angered the senate tremendously.”

  A vein pops on her head. Valerius scoffs and says, “They seem to do that a lot senator. They were angry when I became champion, they were angry when I made peace with the druid. They were angry when I became general. If you know what it takes to please them, be sure to let me know.”

  Norvegicus bites his mouth in thought. He has a large overbite. Thinking, thinking, thinking. He takes forever to respond. Valerius can’t help but mock him in thought

  There’s this saying, it’s better to be suspected of stupidity and keep your mouth shut, than it is to open your mouth and erase any suspicion. This alleged eunuch sure as shit has erased my suspicion with every syllable he utters.

  Norvegicus finally responds, “I understand your slight. We are hard to please, I cannot deny that,” he snickered, “but let me remind you of your position. Everything of importance MUST be reported to the senate. The fact you held a champion imprisoned — even one of a false god — should have been reported. Due to your negligence, a significant amount of soldiers are dead. I find it admirable you are sending their remains to their families scattered across the eight Polis. One would only expect such treatment for nobility. You are lucky none of the prisoners perished or the senate might’ve resorted to more drastic measures. Mhm.”

  The ratty senator pulls a platinum coin from his robe and holds it up for Valerius to see. A frigid breeze rushes past her neck, the bronze armour Valerius is wearing crackles to life, charged with static electricity. A sharp zap dances across her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Her hairs gently float.

  The Ratty senators eyes shimmer a faint silver, “do you understand general?”

  “Yes senator,” Valerius swallows dryly. Grinding her teeth. Her hair floats down. The static electricty fades.

  “Marvelous! Now in your report we expect four points thoroughly explained. How you captured the champion, how you imprisoned it, how you kept it hidden, and how it escaped. If this report isn’t done in a months’ time, or we find it inadequate. We will be forced to summon you to the Metropolis for an investigation. And that may result in your immediate demotion. Is that clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Good. I cannot imagine what you would’ve kept hidden had I not travelled henceforth to overlook your marriage and integration of lady Elanor. I bid you succeed in your endeavour to recapture our foe. In the meantime I will return to the metropolis momentarily.” The ratty senator turns away, but gives her one lasting remark, “You and lady Elanor are a unusual pairing, be sure to make yourself worthy of her.”

  Valerius sighs and watches the senator hobble away. She looks at her sworn cohorts. Their bronze armour shines in the blazing sun. She trusts them, they’ve been at her side since her ascension to championship thirteen years ago. Valerius nods to them both, and steps forward onto the podium in the sun.

  She looks across her legions with pride, her bronze eyes fire up, glowing with determination. She inspects her ranks, the majority of her troops stand before her, eagerly waiting for her, their general Valerius, the champion of valour, to give her speech. Her voice booms out, “legionnaires!”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Every man and woman in her ranks kneels, the cohorts at her side kneel, the troops on the wall kneel, the archers in their towers kneel. Silence follows suit. Thousands of eyes were pointed at Valerius.

  She continues, “Beyond human memory, we have been the bronze shield. Protecting the realms of men. The eight Polis count on us, entrusting their safety to our diligence, our duty, and our valour. No wildebeest horde has passed our canyon in millennia, and none will.”

  She marches from one side of the podium to the other, her bronze eyes flaring with anguish. She jumps down the podium, landing fifteen meters in the dirt below. Towering over her troops, tens of thousands of people hold their breath, one could hear a pin drop.

  she bows to them, her voice gentle and soft, “Yet I have failed you. I have given those savages a chance to attain their coveted bloodshed. The champion of their false god escaped last night. I did not have the heart, the resolve to finish the champion of blood. I did everything in my power to sever its connection to their heinous god, but I failed. I should’ve killed it when I had the chance. For that, I apologise. We lost fifteen brave men today. Fifteen souls that I could’ve spared had I but cut its head off. I fear many more souls will have to be lost to redeem my mistake, my failure as your general.”

  One man stands up. A veteran commander, A legatus. He removes his helmet. His green eyes are relentless, he has seen the horrors of war. The man approaches Valerius and looks at her. The man reaches out to her hand while kneeling beside her. His demeanour changes and his voice sooths her ears as he tells her, “You are far too hard on yourself young lady. Any man or woman in your position would’ve failed to do that.”

  Valerius clenches her jaw, grinding her teeth, “I am not any man or woman, uncle.”

  “No, you are not. Champion at the age of twelve, Legatus at the age of eighteen, general at the age of twenty-five. Your father would’ve been the proudest man in all the realms, in all of history.”

  her uncle Hephast raises his voice as he stands up, “Legionnaires, for thirteen years that monster remained chained, a miracle! Only we can boast about such a feat! Keeping a champion imprisoned for longer than a year, let alone a decade. It has never been done before! In those thirteen years, we have essentially crippled our enemies, made it seem as if their god had abandoned them. And that is all thanks to your general, whom has proven herself time and time again. Beginning with imprisoning the damned beast in the first place! Now she’s given us a chance to explore beyond these walls and face our foe head on. Are you prepared!”

  The legionnaires shout back yes.

  “I doubt that cowards! Only me and a select few have clashed weapons with a wildebeest and lived to tell the tale. They do not seem so scary, do they? Dying by the hundreds in the Canyon below while you cower behind these walls. Nothing to worry about as long as you do not run out of arrows. Pathetic.”

  The soldiers chuckle, some elbow each other and whisper jokes, Hephast walks down the ranks, making eye contact with the newly trained soldiers, “But you’ll sing a different tune when they kill five of your friends with one fell swing from their blunt stone great axes.”

  Hephast sets his helmet back on, and stands back in formation, “What is your command General!”

  Valerius smiles looking at her uncle with admiration, with inhumane strength she jumps back up on the podium, and with laughter in her voice she speaks, “Our god Clypeus. The god of valour, victory, and righteousness gave us this stronghold long ago. He chose me to rule it. My father and his father before him lived and died for our cause. I am willing to lay down my life for the safety of our realm! For our loved ones, for our children! Are you with me!”

  The legionnaires rejoice. Spears hit the ground in unison mimicking a deafening applause, dust is kicked up, carried by the wind-over the wall to the north.

  Elanor frowns, she stands up in a huff. Valerius contradicts herself. She should stay alive, not sacrifice herself. Elanor walks to the northern gate while Valerius explains her war campaign to retrieve the champion of blood. Her boring tactics and battalion selection. She’s making a mistake going after that thing herself. Elanor needs Val more than they do, she does.

  Some time passes while Elanor sits atop the wall near the gate, overlooking the great canyon below. The blazing sun has already given her quite the tan, and she’s only been here for a few weeks. She puts her long blond hair in a braid with a blue ribbon to stop the wind from blowing it in her face.

  She thinks of her home.

  The ornamental architecture, the palaces, the gardens, the markets, the flowers. The beautiful metropolis. She wonders when she’ll get to see it again. She sighs and pushes out the thought, it’s no use thinking of something that’ll make you sad.

  Elanor marvels at the design of the stronghold, how it ever could’ve been built in such an inconvenient location. She wonders where they imported the stones from and how they carried them all the way here. Every time she asks Valerius a question about the stronghold she just smiles and says the stronghold is God-given. Ugh. Not everything is thanks to the gods. We carve our own path, if we hadn’t, we would’ve still been in the Stone Age like those savages on the other side of the canyon.

  What did Hephast say again? Wildebeest corpses fill up the canyon like sand fills up a beach. She doesn’t see why this champion of Bloodlust makes a difference. The last champion charged the bronze shield when Valerius was no older than five and its army fell overnight. It barely broke news in the Metropolis. We have the advantage of the canyon, there’s nothing to fear.

  Elanor can see several teams of legionnaires approaching the inner north gate, they appear to be scouts. Their attire is appropriate for the desert, they wear little to no armour. The wardens on the wall begin opening the inner and outer gates for the legionnaires to pass through. Elanor lets her eyes wander back to the stronghold, placing the canyon behind her, she can see atop the three towers stand monstrous crossbows ensconced behind a low wall.

  Their wooden frames are reinforced with darkened steel, and their arms and struts are taut with suppressed violence, eager to launch the heavy iron bolt held within their tight embrace. The ballistae creak as if alive, the torsion springs impatient, restless. Standing proud, the winch quivers with suppressed energy, waiting for its master's hand. The soldiers manning the ballistae turn and point them at the other side of the canyon. These ballistae are loaded with long metal ropes attached to a bolt.

  She hears the soldiers shout as they fire the ballistae, the ballistae creak, and kick back as they launch their bolts. Dirt and debris fly up when the bolts strike the ground. Then they slide long wooden platforms down at an angle that has a connecting point above them to the three thick metallic ropes. These platforms slide in place allowing the outer gate that is already being lowered to overlap. It is now a sturdy —but a very strange — bridge.

  This bridge ensures the scouts' safe passage over the canyon to the other side, while also ensuring a fast way to disallow access to the stronghold.

  Elanor suspects Valerius will follow suit in the evening.

  She sighs and turns around.

  She descends the wall and wanders, passing the courtyard, and entering into the dining hall. Seeing the Legionnaires feast on what could very well be their last good meal.

  She roams the stronghold out of boredom, going in and out of corridors, visiting kitchens for a quick bite. The aromas of various dishes being cooked lure her in for a good meal. She considers interrupting Valerius her war council to eat with her spouse, but decides against it. She continues her journey until she ends up back where her day started. The staircase.

  Built into the stone of this austere stronghold, the staircase spirals between floors, emerging into foyers leading to different corridors. An architectural curiosity in this day and age . . . and one that encourages Elanor to watch where she steps. The stairs are sufficiently steep that any act of clumsiness could send her tumbling to the floor below. She sighs as she slowly climbs the stairs back up to her chamber. She reaches the second floor, and notices candlelight in the corner of her eye.

  It piques her interest. She quietly draws near. Not trying to make a sound on the cool stone floor. The candlelight is coming from Valerius her childhood bedroom. How odd Elanor thinks. This floor is where they kept the children who were trained from birth. It’s been abandoned for thirteen years. Valerius has plans to repurpose it but this stronghold is so monstrous and vast there’s honestly no need. Maybe she just wants to erase the memory.

  She peaks around the corner and spots Val sitting on the floor clutching a child-sized bronze shield in her arms, Val has her shoulders to Elanor. Elanor can see Val’s shoulders jerk. Is she quietly sobbing?

  Elanor looks around the room and sees an array of toys. A bunk bed, two small desks, a world map, and children’s drawings

  On one such drawing, there’s a depiction of three figures, a tall brown-haired man in bronze sentinel armour with green eyes, a young strong brown-haired girl with green eyes and the third figure is crossed out in red. Elanor also sees that the left desk is filled with clutter: Books, papyrus, sketches, designs, and a perfectly set chessboard. The right desk on the other hand. . . is barren.

  She recognises some of the history books. Books of war, literature, mythology, and poetry. She focuses her attention back on Valerius.

  Elanor quietly speaks, “Val, are you okay?”

  Val jumps up dropping the bronze shield. Her bronze eyes rise in luminescent glow, “What are you doing here. Did I say you could come here, get out!”

  Elanor steps closer, “I know we only recently got married but I can be there for you. I’m-”

  Val interrupts, “Did I stutter? Get. Out.” Valerius picks up Elanor and begins carrying her out of the room. Elanor catches a glance at the inside of the shield. It has an inscription. Valerius closes the door and locks it with a very, very old key.

  She says, “Promise me you’ll never go in there.”

  “Val I need to know what’s going on, I’m-”

  Valerius clenches her fists, “Promise me!”

  Elanor looks into her eyes, those damned bronze eyes. Unrelenting, ungiving, unloving. “No. I won’t promise you I’ll never go in that room; I’ll do so out of decency. What kind of person do you think I am?”

  Elanor pinches Val’s cheeks, “You’re going to have to trust me at some point. I can’t be there for you if your walls block my path to your heart. One day you’re going to have to let me in and let those walls down. Or this marriage just won’t last.”

  “Is that a threat?” Valerius snarled.

  Elanor’s mouth contorts, “Did you even listen to what I said? Put me down.”

  Valerius puts her down. Elanor starts walking back to the staircase, turning her back on Val.

  “W-wait! I-,” Valerius stammered, her bronze eyes dim. “I’m sorry. It’s difficult to open up. I Shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

  Elanor nods. She doesn’t show pity, she doesn’t show empathy or dismissal. She walks back and sits down on the floor, patting for Valerius to sit down beside her. Valerius does, plopping down, she’s two heads taller than Elanor.

  Elanor speaks softly while caressing Val’s hands, “Would you like to hear some things about my childhood? We haven’t really talked about our pasts that much. I think our pasts provide context for who we are, and why we do the things we do. And I can only imagine how different ours are.”

  “I would love that dear,” Valerius says.

  Elanor looks up at Val. She sees her face, her strong features. the thick brow, the crooked nose, broken at multiple parts. The cauliflower ears, her unkempt hair. Elanor sees Valerius’s eyes, the bronze glow is gone. In the darkness, she cannot see the colour. But it makes her smile, she hates those bronze eyes, they feel like a border between them. Now Val is just herself and Elanor can see her for who she is. Just a woman. Not some pinnacle of divinity, not some demi-goddess. A woman.

  An ordinary woman just like Elanor.

  Behind all the scars, muscles, and roughness she’s only human.

  Elanor smiles sweetly and says, “When I was ten my parents sent me to the academia to study history and set my career up in the senate of the eight Poleis.”

  Valerius grins, “no way! You’re kidding.”

  “Why are you smiling, you think I’m not cut out for the senate huh?” Elanor frowns sarcastically, “I’ll have you know I’m an expert policy maker.”

  Valerius laughs, “You were going to end up like Norvegicus with an oval bald spot? Yikes. No offense but I like you better as you are now.”

  Elanor laughs, the sound of her laughter gives Valerius butterflies. Valerius puts her hand on Elanor’s thigh, squeezing gently.

  Elanor looks down at the ground blushing. She shakes her head and continues her story, “Anyways. Around the time I was twelve years old, I started having trouble keeping up with the work. It frustrated me since everything came effortless to me the years beforehand. I slowly isolated myself from my friends. I ended up very, very lonely. Eventually, even the schoolwork became too much, and I had to stop. My parents were very supportive, but I could feel their disappointment. As an only child, I was responsible for our family’s image. Both their careers took a hit when word got out I never graduated and couldn’t attend the senate assemblies. As nobility, our expectations are higher than that of ordinary folk and I let myself, my parents, and my family down.”

  Elanor grabs Valerius’s hand on her thigh and caresses the palm of Valerius’s hand. Such rough calluses, scars all over.

  Elanor continues, “Years later. When I was appointed as your guide in the metropolis. I was in a really bad place, and with every conversation, with every laugh. You pulled me out of that. That- that veil that had descended over my life. Your foreign eyes refreshed my perspective. And that’s why I fell in love with you.”

  Silence falls over the hallway. They are both lost in thought. Dust swirls down, visible in the dim rays of light that cast down from the far away windows in the staircase. She continues, “I think I would’ve graduated had I not isolated myself and pushed my friends away. It would’ve been more bearable had I kept some friends around to share the burden with and support one another. I tried to do everything alone and that was not smart. Eventually, I sank too far I couldn’t ask for help anymore. It felt like I was drowning.”

  She looks at Valerius, “When I saw you in your childhood bedroom, I assumed you were doing the same. You wanted to be alone. I just. I-I think I can relate to what you are going through.”

  Valerius remains silent, clenching her jaw and grinding her teeth like chalk on a board. She dare not to make eye contact with Elanor.

  Elanor doesn’t understand her reaction. Isn’t this what she is going through?

  Valerius spouts out, “I apologise for reacting so strongly. That was not appropriate.”

  They can both feel a draft travel down the dark hallway. It's cold. Valerius continues, “I’m not ready to share things with you yet.”

  Elanor looks disappointed. “Okay, I’ll respect your boundary, Val,” She breathes in with sorrow, a bitter taste in her mouth.

  She undoes the blue ribbon in her hair and says, “Will you take this with you? Maybe it'll grant you more luck than it granted me.”

  Elanor gently ties the bow in Val's hair, grinning. It looks cute on the scary giantess. She takes one last look at Valerius before standing up. “I’ll wave you farewell on the wall tonight. Think of me while you’re gone."

  "I love you.”

  “I love you too.”