Tempus (time)

• Elyse Landsberry, Grade 9, Ravenswood School For Girls
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

My name is Sylva Mortem.
I am General of the Moonwalkers.
I am daughter to the late King Radnon of Nebula.
I am bearer of the sword Cleaver.
I am going to die.

The moon scuds across the inky sky. Smoke claws at my face. Wind wuthers a banshees moan.
A warlock casts a bolt of lightning. It scars the night and blue shards hurtle through the air. I stab a dagger into an orc’s chest and pull him to block the magic as a shield. The lightning jolts the orc. I slide him off my dagger and flick it into the warlock’s throat. He claws at his neck- gushing with black blood mixing into the rain.
The orc's and Undead swarm on us. Ravenous birds.
“Fall back!” I yell above the shrieks. Pale bodies litter the mud. Cracked faces, stained red. Rain pelts down and lightning splinters the sky.
“To the Keep!”
Three Wraiths remain- their ethereal bodies flickering, their twisted voices, distant and distorted. Their hands can rip flesh, wrench free their souls. They cannot be killed while in spectre-form.
I dance past a wraith’s clawed fingers, and extending my palm outwards, I shout “Eriss!”
I fall to my knee as the magic arcs and smashes into the Wraith, solidifying the spectre as I swing Cleaver. The Wraith’s head drops and disperses into smoke.
On the crest of the hill, Mortas stands. Bearer of Wrathbringer.
A black cloak clasped at his neck, billows behind him. White-blonde hair, feathered by the wind. Cruel, blue eyes glare from the shadows.
Memories flit like caged butterflies.
His eyes. His hands. My parent’s blood.
I reach up to my throat and clasp my pendant. A silver tree studded with verdant leaves.
Breaking into a run, I pound towards The Keep; skewering orcs as I pass.
My brothers face flashes pass me, “LUX GET INSIDE NOW!”
Luxs’ blonde hair, spattered with rain and gore frames his ravaged eyes. But before he can speak, a figure looms beside him.
Dread takes me. I charge towards my brother. Time crawls.
Tick.
I draw Cleaver.
Tock.
Lux swivels to see Mortas.
Tick.
Mortas swings Wrathbringer.
Tock.
I shove Lux.
Tick.

I look down at my brother.
“Sylva…” He whispers raggedly.
My eyes follow his.
A sword is embedded in my stomach. Mortas slowly draws out Wrathbringer. Pain lashes, cracking like a whip. The world turns red. I fall to my knees.
Mortas looks at Lux, “You crossed me. These are the consequences.”
A broken pendant lies spattered in the mud.
The world begins to fade.
The darkness swallows me.

A blinding blue mist erupts from the darkness.
Blue eyes stare down. Mortas.
Two Wraiths are beside him.
“Rise, Wraith Queen.”
I must obey.
I clasp my sword and stare at its reflection.
A deathly image looks back at me.
“Welcome to Undeath, Wraith Queen.”
Mortas offers me a pendant.
A black tree. Blood red leaves.
Tock.