Outskirts of the city

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Synful Darkness

Arch Child
Alexandria

She was a simple woman, nothing of power and wealth. In fact she had lost her entire family to a past battle where the farm that she lived was nearly put to ruins and her only means of surviving was her skill in hiding. From her front steps she could see the Castle of Ayenee and sometimes heard the horns when the current King made his way down the city streets.

Since she was a child her parents told her tales of the evils that lived within those city walls and thus she kept away from it as much as possible. On market days were the only days that she dared to enter, and that was only to get the things she needed or sell the things she could. She had a happy life on her piece of land, no one really bothered her because they were to wrapped up in their own conflicts within those evil walls they had no time to notice a simple girl such as her.

The fact that she had seen her parents and siblings die at the hands of enemies that eventually took over the city was also enough to make her weary of it all. She had watched her house nearly burn down, her fathers hard work in the land flattened by fires and armies of men marching over it, for this she would never forgive. Yet it didn’t take her long to realize that she had to eat, and there was a limited amount of ways she could do that.

Brown locks fell over thin shoulders as she stroked the head of her mutt dog, perhaps the only companion she trusted to stay around. Bright blue eyes watched the sun slither down over the horizon and she sighed, it had taken a few years for her to get her fathers land back what it had once been, but she never once asked for assistance and that alone was enough for her, she had done it by herself. Smirking she got up and trotted up the few steps that lead to the porch and eventually the front door. Moving inside the small house she shut and locked the door, a few candles already lit. Considering she grew up having to assist her father and living as she did it wasn’t hard for her to repaid and rebuild.

Another day had ended, which meant another would surely begin. Each night she kissed a picture of her family before rolling in to a feather bed and curling up, her mutt dog always lying by the side of the bed on the floor. It was a hot night luckily, no fire was needed and on nights like these she often slept without a blanket. Her life was good, and yet rather empty..however unlike most she never was one to give in to temptation.
 
He could hardly stand. His mouth was dry as rock. His feet bled.
“I did not say you could sit.â€
He panted in the sun and wished for the smoke.
“I did not say you could sweat.â€
With one hand shielding his face from the sun and the other holding the wall he was defenseless.
“You were not given permission to lean.â€
Katsujirou’s fist slammed in the armor protecting his ribs. He felt bones break.
“I did not allow pain.â€
His bleeding, swollen lips split as he hissed, “I feel none.â€
The pain flooded his head and the world became a dark, cold, frightening place.
“Lying,†Katsujirou said through the din, “is unacceptable.â€


The night was as peaceful as a pre-dawn battlefield. In its silence there was the potential for screaming, and in its stillness there was room for chaos. While Alexandria slept in her feather bed alongside her dog, one man decided to turn the evening into a moonlit mess of blood and guts. He prowled the streets and hunted an untold number of men traveling into the heart of the city. The same starlight that peered through the windows of Alexandria’s house glinted off the red armor of a warrior whose own death wasn’t a concern.

In the moments just before he struck there was absolute peace. The quiet blanket of midnight shadows, the rustling of tree boughs, and a calm foggy breath coated the world in a warm, black veil. The distant lights of the castle seemed smeared by the mist that drifted between buildings and cuddled against hedgerows. Nine men traveled the night road, followed by the man in red armor who was not far behind. Their laugh was merry, their spirits uplifted by the treasures they had found in the woods not far from the city, and their reputations bronzed by their dispelling of myth and legend. Two years had passed since the Red Riders had gone into the woods. Since then there were only rumors of the swords left behind by their fallen, buried beneath the bodies of monsters and nightmare. Between the nine men they had enough steel to engage a small army, but none of it was more valuable than the two katanas they had recovered in the woods.

“So James says to me, ‘You better watch it, Roger, or else Tim’s gonna’ get angry!’†One guffawed.

“Angry, right!†Said another. “Last time Tim got angry he damn near broke his toe kicking in a swinging door!†There was laughter, and then a dry silence between them all.

“You see that?†Said one, who wore upon his back a long bearded axe.

“Yeah, I saw it, I did.â€

Their raised voices came through the window by where Alexandria slept. “There! There it was, the red!â€

“No, there!†Shouted another.

“You idiot, it’s there! It’s red, see … look how it moved. Right there. There!â€

There was a pause, and then the night was broken by a blood curdling scream. It pierced the night and rang with the familiar song of swinging steel. Nine men had become eight shouting, frantic voices. Amongst them there was pain without permission.
 
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The window was small and she could barely see anything outside it.
Her dress was torn and misshapen from ill use and days, maybe even weeks of not being washed.
She was dirty as well and she longed to go swim in the creek behind the small cottage in the distance.
She had been captured by the Kings men, saying that she had been a witch, when at heart she was much, much worse that some woman with long hair that danced naked around a fire spouting incomprehensable words at the moon.
She heard a commotion outside in the courtyard and decided to get up from the bare stone floor of the highest tower of the castle and look outside.
There below was some man leading a horse into the stable.
It was the brown horse, the one normally used by the messenger boy.
So the Kings messenger had come back from afar. No matter to her anyway. She was going to die in two days time. If she let them kill her.
Ayaeth heard something else in the distance.
Metal against metal, cries of pain, cries of a battle.
She strained against the bottom of the window to try and see over the wall and into the green fields beyond.
There.
Right there.
Off to the right and then back in the woods a little, there were about eight or ten men fighting something.
She couldnt tell what.
Then she saw a flash of red. A flash of metal when the moonlight hit the blades of the dying. She knew that they didnt have a chance. She had heard rumors of this "red killer" or "red ghost".
Supposidly he (or maybe it was a she? she thought) submitted himself to lots of pain so that he may become the best killer in all the land.
All she did know about the guy was that he killed without mercy, with much patience, and with extreme accuracy.

Then, the smell of blood hit her nostrils from the warm southern wind.
She shuddered as the creature inside her rose up. She couldnt help it. She needed that blood that she smelled.

A small scream escaped her lips as she dove from the highest tower in the castle and flew through the air towards the battle - and the smell of fresh blood.

She landed in front of the now nine dead men, with one standing clothed in a red stained armor. And the armor wasnt stained red by blood, it was somehow dyed red.

She gasped as she saw the brutilized men in front of her on the ground.
She realized she shouldnt have left the tower.
 
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