Scene: "Oathbreaker"

I was oiling my rusty writing skills with some random exercises, just playing out little scenes as they danced through the theater of my mind, and I struck upon one I rather like. The setting for this piece is vague and nonspecific, but as many of my musing do it carries an element of high fantasy. I could see myself coming back to this one day, perhaps expanding this little seed into a proper story, but only time will tell. For the moment simply enjoy the scene.

 

It hurt to look at him.

Her entire body ached and groaned, but the worst pain by far was much deeper than any wound she had ever received. Her very core was pierced, and no salve existed to soothe away this hurt, no stitching was strong enough to close this gaping hole that grew wider with every second added to this damnable moment. She had endured hunger, beatings, maulings, and battles both brief and brutal, but this was a blow she did not think she would survive.

The worst part? He had the gaul to look as hurt as she was, even as he leveled his blade at her.

“Stand aside, Yggolda.” It was supposed to be a command, she knew, but his voice shook with the effort it was taking to keep it steady and robbed the words of any authority.

“Don’t make me do this, Alpheos.” To her credit and despite her pain, her voice was level and low, the warning growl of a seasoned huntress. “I swore an oath to protect the Imperial family. Your family.”

“Damn it, Ygg!” His sword lowered fractionally, but his eyes flashed with frustration. “I’m doing this for you! For your whole people! Why are you stopping me?”

“Because I have my honor!” The words were the crack of a whip, her own eyes flashing to meet his. “I have had everything -- everything -- taken from me except that. I have never broken my word or betrayed a trust.” Her voice broke, and she cursed her weakness. “That's all I have left.”

Alpheos hesitated, then dropped his arm. His blade was barely held in his limp fingers, its tip touching the ground. “You had me.”

“You left.”

“Because I was suffocating!” Alpheos spread his arms to encompass the palace they stood in, and indeed the empire it lay at the heart of. “All this? This isn’t me. It never was and never will be. I didn’t realize how badly I needed change until I met you.” Yggolda’s face softened infinitesimally. “And then I realized that my people were never going to change on their own. Or at the least not in time for it to make any difference to you.”

“I didn’t need this! I didn’t want this! I was content with my lot,” she screamed at him in anger and pain. “You were enough for me! Why wasn’t I enough for you?”

And there it was. The ugly question that had consumed Yggolda every waking moment since the morning she realized he was gone. The dark, intrusive thought that had hounded her everywhere she went. Why hadn’t he been content, as she had been? Why did he need to change the world in her name and make her lose the only part of herself she had protected from the cruelties of her life? Why hadn’t he seen that his idea of saving her would kill her instead?

“I--”

“No. I don’t want to know.” She straightened, fixing her face into a tight, steely expression that was belied by the tears running unchecked down her cheeks. “I have sworn an oath, and I will uphold it.”

“We swore an oath too.” His words were spoken in a soft voice, nearly whispered, but to her they were like thunder. “Have you forgotten the shore?”

How dare he. How dare he. How dare he weaponize her most cherished memory against her. How dare he try and manipulate her with the only night she had ever felt fully at peace. She felt her rage rising like a red tide, the pain in the twisted and shattered remains of her heart beating a frantic wardrum.

“Of course I remember.” Her words were icy calm, and Alpheos immediately tensed at their tone. “But you’ve clearly forgotten.” Her whole body grew at taunt as a bowstring. “Do you know what my people do to oathbreakers?”