The Blessed and the Cursed

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Chapter Eleven: The Battle


Ulric had dropped Sylvia and Wes behind the stables where they would grab helmets and steal two horses. That way they could fight in the battle unnoticed. Ulric went back to his army and they went through with battle strategies. Every soldier had a silver blade that was dipped in wolfsbane infused water. Some of the best fighters were wearing silver armor. They were more than prepared for this war, they were ready to take the werewolves down. The villagers were no less than the soldiers. They had taken out the pitchforks from the farming Sheds. They had also lit torches on fire, ready to drive the beasts away. they had silver houseware and wolfsbane was scattered everywhere around the village. They weren’t going down without a fight. The kids and people who weren’t fighting were safely hidden in the safehouse underneath the town hall. The werewolves were going to go down, whether they liked it or not.

Sylvia and Wes grabbed random helmets and jumped onto random horses. Sylvi pulled the reins up and whipped them down. “Getty up, horsey.”

“How are we going to do this?” Wes asked.

“We have to get ourselves into the battle first. When the wolves first arrive they will attack because of the defenses.” Sylvia said. “Then they will stop and ask for what they really came for. I’ll take my helmet off and make my way to the top of the hill. Then they all surround me, I’ll drop down the bottle.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He said trying to keep up with her. “And Sylvia?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

“I’ll be alright.” she said with a smile. “After all, you have my back.”

They galloped on the horses to the outskirts of the village. Soon the shrieks of terror and cries of pain started.

“They’re here.” Syliva said putting down her helmet. “Let’s get this done and over with.”

They reached the end of town where the soldiers were struggling to fight off the Werewolves. Sylvia took out her daggers and unstrapped herself from her horse. She needed some freedom to attack. Two werewolves lurched themselves onto her. She jumped up in the air, her arms straightened out, a dagger in each hand. With a somersault, the daggers had touche both wolves. As he spun back down, she landed perfectly on her horse. The two wolves transformed back to their human forms as they fell to the icy ground.

“Two down, lots to go.” She said to herself. She was trying her best to get as close to the hill as she could. She knew that the Werewolves will pause their reign of terror for a while, and seek out the one that they want. She just had to fight a bit longer.

Her body ached from the fight with the Gagloom, and Spellcasting took away most of her energy. She hadn’t noticed how exhausted she was until she felt like she was going to die. She shook her head as she leaped forward on her horse. There was still a battle to be won, she couldn’t fall out now. With each slash and stab, her arms ached. She was taking out a sufficient amount of werewolves, but there were so many of them.

What if the spell didn’t work? The thought had crossed her mind so many times, and more since she had found out that Morgana was a traitor. Maybe this all was a trap, so she could give her and Wes false hope. She did such a horrible thing to Cormeum. How could she be capable of helping them? Sylvia knew that Morgana had healed her, but she felt a strange emotion, knowing she was in front of an enemy in such a vulnerable state. Morgana could’ve easily killed her, gotten rid of her.

“That was her game all along.” Sylvia said out loud as she slashed the throat of yet another Werewolf.

Morgana wanted Sylvia to know that her life was in her hands, she wanted Sylvia to have a psychological scar. Morgana wanted Sylvia to question why she was saved. It didn’t matter how much Sylvia questioned it, she would never get the answer. If she stopped her questions then she would take away what Morgana was looking forward to, and that was what she was going to do. Sylvia didn’t need Morgana to get the satisfaction, thinking that she put fear in her.

Sylvia was slowly getting closer to the hill, the way was filled with soldiers and werewolves, some dead, some alive. Blood was splattered onto the pure white snow. The screams were getting louder as more blood was shed. Sylvia shook her head, trying to focus through this chaos. With war came death, something she wasn’t used to. A couple gallops later she heard another agonizing scream. This one was different, higher-pitched, like a child. She whipped her head to the origin of the sound. Her eyes narrowed down onto a girl standing on top of a roof. The girl was yelling for help, a werewolf was at the bottom of the building. She was about to pull the reins so she could go to her aid, but she was stopped by Wes. He had somehow made his way to her through the battle.

“You do what you said you would do.” He said. “I’ll take care of the girl.”

Sylvia nodded. “Be careful.” the words escaped her lips as Wes galloped towards the girl.

Her eyes lingered at his back as he raced against the crowd. Her attention was brought back as a werewolf growled at her horse’s feet. The horse stood up on his two hooves, frightened by the beast. Sylvia took out her daggers but they were too small to reach it. The werewolf leaned back on its paws, ready to leap up. Sylvia stuck out her daggers, ready to slice the beast. Before the werewolf could even jump, a soldier pierced its back with a silver spear. The beast whimpered as it fell to the ground, transforming back to its human state.

“Thank you.” Sylvia yelled over the ruckus but the soldier was already off to take care of the rest of the werewolves.

“Hiyaaa.” She yelled as she raced through the empty spaces of the battleground. Her heart raced as the ill came closer. She was frightened but nobody needed to know that. Seconds away from the hill all the battle cries fell. It was silent, as silent as a battle could be. The werewolves were retreating. All of them scampering back into the woods. Everyone was ready to let out the cries of Victory, but they were put to halt as a growl rumbled through the night.

A lone werewolf came out of the woods, it was bigger in size as compared to the others. His eyes were glowing red. His fur was dark as the night seemed to contrast with white snow beneath him. “I want the Lycan.” It growled. “If you hand her over I will take my army and no further harm will be done to you. If you do not answer my wish, then be ready to be slaughtered.”

Before anyone could question his request Sylvia took off her helmet and threw it on the snow. “I’m right here.” she said. “Meet me at the top of the hill. I need to know that you won’t harm these innocent people.”

“Go on, there’s nowhere you can run anymore.”

Sylvia traveled slowly through the crowd of soldiers that now stood still. Their eyes were fixed on her, trailing after her as she went up the hill. “Come and get me.” She said.

All the wolves jumped out of the forest, following their leader as he made its way up to her. They had surrounded all of the hills, just like she had predicted. Her hand rested in the bag on top of the glass bottle, ready to drop it. She waited for as many wolves to gather around, she would wipe out as many as she could.

“So, Lycan.” the leader said. “Do you give us your consent to use your blood in a spell?”

“Over. My. Dead. Body.” She said as she slammed the bottle onto the icy hill.

The glass shattered instantly as it hit the hard ice. The millions of fragments spread across the ground. The purple mist inside traveled up to the sky, leaping and soaring like a flare. It spread over the night sky like a shroud of mist. It filled the sky in a perfect circle, larger than typhoon. It started to rain down like lightning, striking only the werewolves. They cried out in pain as the mist landed on them. Slowly the fur on them started to retract, their snouts pulled back and their backs cracked straight up. Soon the gruesome-looking beasts turned back into their human forms. All of them passed out surrounding the hill. The circle began to shrink until it vanished into thin air.

The soldiers and villagers stood speechless, but they realized soon enough that their enemies had been defeated. Soon the cries of battle were replaced with the joyous cheers of victory. Soldiers jump off their horses and retrieve the bodies of the ones who lost their lives. Villagers instantly began to clean up the mess. The ones with children ran to the shelter, letting the innocence of the village out. The parents hugging their kids, glad that their loved ones were safe.

Sylvia smiled as she saw the village was safe, and the people too. Her eyes scanned the crowd for Wes, she wanted to confirm his safety. Her heart started beating faster every second she didn’t see him.

“Looking for me, love?” His familiar voice asked behind her.

Her head turned towards him. He stood safe and sound, not a scratch to be seen. A proud smile spread across his face. His handheld the reins of the horse Sylvia looked up to it only to see a girl on top of it. It was the girl from the roof, she sat on the horse, no harm done to her. Wes opened his mouth to say something but before he could deliver his words, Sylvia engulfed him into an embrace. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her chin resting on his shoulder.

“I have never been so glad to see you.” She said.

“I, on the other hand, have always been glad to see you.” He said he wrapped his arms around her back. “You were quite the fighter.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself.” Sylvia replied pulling her head back.

“Ahem.” The cough made both of them leap out of each other’s arms and stand up straight. “I hate to ruin your celebrations.” The chief said. “But the two of you have a lot of explaining to do.”

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