u/Fia_Ignes

This is part three of my epilogue. The other two followed first a person breaking into a castle. The second followed a servant tasked with taking a basket to a village.

The last guard leaned over the pained, fallen person. The black-clad man disoriented struggled to rise.  

Grabbing ahold of the crumbled figure’s arms the guard twisted them back as he prepared to bind the man.

He kneeled grimly studying the murderer. The so called murderer stared back apathetically. A cold rage creeped through him. Why not end the wretched creature’s life now? The result would be the same. He expertly poised his sword.

A dagger plunged into the guard’s neck. He choked and writhed to the ground.

The bearer of the dagger slowly stood extricating the blade with quick flick of his wrist then threw it down at the other’s feet.

“Take it. Our task is not yet complete.”

Not waiting for him to rise he then turned and coolly observed the third man who was still slumped against the wall. The other came to his side dagger in hand.

“How is he?”

“He was cut, the wound weeps, draining his life blood.”

At the sound of his voice the bleeding man looked up. His distant gaze made him look confused or rather sleepy. “It’s cold.” he said.

Cold and lifeless was the night. Which was why Alilith was heartened to see Night, Arman’s horse, or rather the castle’s horse.

The black steed’s breath was visible in the moonlight its dark eyes gleamed the gold light of her lantern. Never fear, never fear, dawn will be here. she hummed as she secured the basket onto its warm back.* *She brushed her hand on Night’s strong neck. So warm.

The pair broke out into a gallop. Water streamed across her face as she guided the beast away. Away from that pressing emptiness. It was nice to see him again even if it was a dream.
However she thought, it was quickly dawning on her that this was very real. And it had been so good.

Thank you for reading! I will take any critiques:)

 

This is the second part of my epilogue. The first part is simply called Infiltration, and follows a person breaking into a castle.

The servant woke with a start. She sat up looking at the light beaming through the dark room. A figure hunched at the door cradling a large bundle.

“Alilith.”

She groped through the blackness to the light. Carefully trying not to step on anyone. A few raised their heads thinking they were being called to work, but seeing Alilith already up, promptly turned over to resume their snoring.

“Is that you? Arman, what are you…?” She stepped forward “What are you holding?”

He roughly moved her into the shadows of the room. She almost protested but didn’t make a sound. I’m glad the others aren’t awake.

The look on his face as he peered out the doorway disquieted her. Looking out the door she saw nothing, but a sudden anxiety caused her to imagine a furtive shadow slink by. Then it was gone.

A few seconds later her brother relaxed. She looked up at him slightly annoyed. He ignored the look and gently put the bundle in her arms. It dawned on her then the bundle was a basket. It lay heavy.

She fingered the rough weaves wondering what had to be washed at this hour.

“What is it?”

“…orders to…take to our village… and wait at… can you ride that horse?”

Alilith nodded with a wan smile, as she thought of the fierce but beautiful creature.

“You mustn’t be seen … avoid…”

Her eyes widened “It was real?”

He nodded, suddenly sagging. She studied her brother’s eyes, vacant eyes. “What ails you?”

Arman slipped to the floor. She quickly knelt setting the basket aside. Something wet and warm soaked her dress as she did, and the pungent smell of iron filled her senses.

Thank you for reading! Any critiques would be greatly appreciated;)

This is the epilogue to a story I’ve been wanting to write for a while. I didn’t post everything because the next section was too long. Any critiques would be greatly appreciated.

The night air blew briskly, bringing damp and green scents.

The masked figure tilted his head squinting at the dappled light.

Straining to listen, he barely felt his taut legs or tingling body.

A nightingale sprang into song beside his still form in the branches. The music’s beauty unnoticed by the strange dark figure.

A soft keening sound broke through the night. The shadow leaped from the branches, and ending the nightingale’s song as it fluttered in panic. The race had begun.

The figure darted past silvery tree and shrub to the castle wall with an unusual speed. Insistent, he pulled from his cloak a hooked rope and swung it in the air. It caught on top of the wall, and a few moments later he scaled the wall and was at the top.

“Halt!”

The dark figure ignored him reeling in the rope and hook. The man approached drawing his sword muttering under his breath.

“Such foolhardiness if I ever did see it.”
Then aloud “…aaaAArgh”

The intruder struck the guard in the gut, covered his mouth and slit the throat holding on till the flailing man stilled.

The stranger’s blank eyes scanned the length of the wall as he ran on feeling for any other obstructions.

A closed stone turret quickly rose before him. Unyielding his pace he flung the hook above him and leapt from the wall.  It caught, the rope drew tight, and he swung into a narrow window on the turret’s face. There he landed neatly on the winding stone stairs inside and ran up it in a guided urgency.

His ears began to quiver with the sound of shouts and clanking metal. It seemed the enemy had discovered his comrades.

 It was too late to turn back, and while onward would bring potential death, fleeing was inevitable death. You must not fail. A voice pulsed in his head.

A dull flickering light shone from the top of the staircase, and the noise of the fighting grew louder as he
approached the light.

He paused, for the first time unsure, after all his time had run out to complete his duty safely. He surveyed the situation calculating the precise timing his entrance would give the most advantage.

His comrades were being held down and one guard was attempting to remove…

Quickly he darted out flinging several sharp slivers at the armored barrier. There was a harsh clamor of metal clashing with stone as two fell clasping the back of their heads. The other three turned in a cry of outrage and quickly advanced on the diminutive shadow that seemed to be flickering with the torches.

A huge claymore swung at him ringing through the air. Strong swing… He flipped over the swing and landed on the man’s shoulders causing a collision between two guards and thrusted his dagger into the skull’s base then swung around using the momentum to kick the other’s face. But poorly aimed.

He turned toward the remaining guards evading another sword stroke as the stabbed man sunk to the ground.         

There were merely two left, however the demise of their own had left them grim and determined. The surprise was over.

He wavered as two swords swung at intervals of a second from the other. Ah, they’ve awoken. He dogged one and flipped over the other, fluidly landed on his feet, and stabbed under the ribs. The pierced man tripped knocking the dagger away and nearly crushing his fingers.

A blade glinted in his peripheral. He quickly abandoned his dagger and leaped away, yet the long blade’s flat caught his arm, then chest ramming him into the unyielding stone.

He choked at the force as ribs cracked and the world darkened…

1. Were any words/sentences too flowery?
2. Did any part pull you out of the story?
3. Was the pacing done well?
Thank you for sharing your thoughts:)