Vignette 2: To Break Another
Deep within the porous cavern systems of the Twelveswood, a battlefield grew tranquil and almost seemed to disappear. At a remote mouth of the labrynth, a lone lance stood plunged into the damp clay, swaying in the breeze stirred by a nearby cascading waterfall. A few yalms away, Ameline laid motionless on her back, staring up toward the source of the falls as she blinked idly. Her breathing was erratic; every few seconds, she gasped softly and grew a bit paler.
She reflected on the events of her bout: A duel to the death with Miette Pellicier in Elezen tradition – ceremonial hunting knives only. The fight itself seemed to endure for an eternity in the moment, but as she reflected, she realized it could not have lasted more than a few fleeting minutes. For all of her posturing on compassion, she had instigated the duel and even backhanded the noble. She thought fondly of the strikes, hypocrisy be damned.
Ameline clenched a fist and could almost feel the deep vibrations of kinetic energy in the slender bones of her hand from the moment when it connected with Miette’s cheek. She let her hand go limp as she felt another pang of pain crash over her. Her lips seemed to be drying out even in the humid cavern environment.
As she gasped for breath again, she remembered the fury she felt as Miette jettisoned a powerful Elezen knee into her midsection. She rolled her mail up to expose her bare midriff and leaned up a bit, wincing sharply as she examined the area that was targeted. It was already showing signs of deep tissue bruising.
She let out a labored chuckle as she contemplated her reaction to Miette’s attack to her stomach. She remembered her deceptive retaliation with a sense of pride: She feigned serious injury from the jutting knee, doubling over. While she was reeling from the attack, she planted her hunting knife through Miette’s boot – shearing clear through the leather, flesh, and into the earth underneath. It had immobilized Miette, a sound tactic in theory, but it didn’t end the way she thought it would.
Ameline finally began grasping at the earth with her hands and shuffling her prone frame toward the cavern wall with her boots. She labored for a moment, but finally propped herself up. She untied the first few strands on the collar of her mail tunic and slipped her bare shoulder out from its protection. The armor peeled from her in a painful sensation exposing three intersecting deep lacerations a mere few ilms from where Miette had placed an arrow through her in their last encounter.
She put a hand to her face, unable to escape the pain as the memory of Miette’s knife wildly stabbing her shoulder came back to her. She could still feel the force of Miette’s slender hand bearing down on her shoulder as Ameline thrust her own knife deeper into Miette’s foot. She could have succumbed to the pain, or finished the clearly cornered and frenzied woman. In the end, she chose the latter.
The victor considered her technique in grabbing Miette’s hand and garroting her with the other. She simply couldn’t finish the deed. She couldn’t strangle a noble of her native kingdom, let alone the sister of her suitor. As she remembered looking on her bested foe after releasing her, she noticed the image of the usually haughty Miette displaying a tender vulnerability as she sobbed. Her words stuck with Ameline, “I don’t want to hurt you - If I fail, they will kill me.†She snapped back to the present, scoffing as the crimson streamed from the lacerations in her shoulder.
“Why? Why did I let her go? No matter. It will not be long now, I suspect.†She thought to herself.
Slowly, her vision began to fade in a shallow, rhythmic pulse. She slumped from her upright perch, sprawled on the gritty earth of the cavern. Just as she began to feel herself slipping away, a voice called out from afar: “Is anyone alive down there?!†She couldn’t muster the strength to reply; just a hope that they would find her while her body was still warm.
Suddenly, she felt the tickling sensation in her spine from the Aether: “Are you there Captain? I did my best.†She thought as a few gentle sounds escaped her mouth. She closed her blurry eyes and felt a deep tranquility as hollow voices around her rang out.
"Is she dead?" The voice from before echoed.
A different voice replied, "No, but she's lost a lot of blood. Summon the healers, this one will need them."
Deep within the porous cavern systems of the Twelveswood, a battlefield grew tranquil and almost seemed to disappear. At a remote mouth of the labrynth, a lone lance stood plunged into the damp clay, swaying in the breeze stirred by a nearby cascading waterfall. A few yalms away, Ameline laid motionless on her back, staring up toward the source of the falls as she blinked idly. Her breathing was erratic; every few seconds, she gasped softly and grew a bit paler.
She reflected on the events of her bout: A duel to the death with Miette Pellicier in Elezen tradition – ceremonial hunting knives only. The fight itself seemed to endure for an eternity in the moment, but as she reflected, she realized it could not have lasted more than a few fleeting minutes. For all of her posturing on compassion, she had instigated the duel and even backhanded the noble. She thought fondly of the strikes, hypocrisy be damned.
Ameline clenched a fist and could almost feel the deep vibrations of kinetic energy in the slender bones of her hand from the moment when it connected with Miette’s cheek. She let her hand go limp as she felt another pang of pain crash over her. Her lips seemed to be drying out even in the humid cavern environment.
As she gasped for breath again, she remembered the fury she felt as Miette jettisoned a powerful Elezen knee into her midsection. She rolled her mail up to expose her bare midriff and leaned up a bit, wincing sharply as she examined the area that was targeted. It was already showing signs of deep tissue bruising.
She let out a labored chuckle as she contemplated her reaction to Miette’s attack to her stomach. She remembered her deceptive retaliation with a sense of pride: She feigned serious injury from the jutting knee, doubling over. While she was reeling from the attack, she planted her hunting knife through Miette’s boot – shearing clear through the leather, flesh, and into the earth underneath. It had immobilized Miette, a sound tactic in theory, but it didn’t end the way she thought it would.
Ameline finally began grasping at the earth with her hands and shuffling her prone frame toward the cavern wall with her boots. She labored for a moment, but finally propped herself up. She untied the first few strands on the collar of her mail tunic and slipped her bare shoulder out from its protection. The armor peeled from her in a painful sensation exposing three intersecting deep lacerations a mere few ilms from where Miette had placed an arrow through her in their last encounter.
She put a hand to her face, unable to escape the pain as the memory of Miette’s knife wildly stabbing her shoulder came back to her. She could still feel the force of Miette’s slender hand bearing down on her shoulder as Ameline thrust her own knife deeper into Miette’s foot. She could have succumbed to the pain, or finished the clearly cornered and frenzied woman. In the end, she chose the latter.
The victor considered her technique in grabbing Miette’s hand and garroting her with the other. She simply couldn’t finish the deed. She couldn’t strangle a noble of her native kingdom, let alone the sister of her suitor. As she remembered looking on her bested foe after releasing her, she noticed the image of the usually haughty Miette displaying a tender vulnerability as she sobbed. Her words stuck with Ameline, “I don’t want to hurt you - If I fail, they will kill me.†She snapped back to the present, scoffing as the crimson streamed from the lacerations in her shoulder.
“Why? Why did I let her go? No matter. It will not be long now, I suspect.†She thought to herself.
Slowly, her vision began to fade in a shallow, rhythmic pulse. She slumped from her upright perch, sprawled on the gritty earth of the cavern. Just as she began to feel herself slipping away, a voice called out from afar: “Is anyone alive down there?!†She couldn’t muster the strength to reply; just a hope that they would find her while her body was still warm.
Suddenly, she felt the tickling sensation in her spine from the Aether: “Are you there Captain? I did my best.†She thought as a few gentle sounds escaped her mouth. She closed her blurry eyes and felt a deep tranquility as hollow voices around her rang out.
"Is she dead?" The voice from before echoed.
A different voice replied, "No, but she's lost a lot of blood. Summon the healers, this one will need them."
