The frigid wind of the night froze her pale skin until she couldn't feel the muscles in her face anymore. She couldn't feel a thing, her eyes staring blankly at the carnage unfolding before her, frozen in horror and locked into place. She couldn't bring herself to move, it was as if she was stuck in her own bubble. The screams and cries of women and children were muffled upon her frozen ears and not a word could form on her numb lips. To be queen is to be a leader, to protect and serve the people of her kingdom as best as she could, but when something came as a surprise with no time for preparation, what else could she do?
Was it okay to run, to leave her people as a meatshield to protect herself? Would she be okay with that?
Ambre knew the answer and it was that to be a leader, you have to be willing to make the tough decisions. Even if it meant she'd look like a coward, she had to face the fact that Winter's Peak was lost. The newly built village she had worked so hard to construct was lost for a second time, only this time to flames.
She felt the cold breath of Grohir on her ear but the words he shouted fell silent. It was only when she was suddenly thrust into the frozen wood of the balcony floor did she snap out of it. The sounds of clashing metal and crackling fire became clear and she realized her heart was pounding until her chest felt tight.
"Damn it, that was really close," Grohir shouted so he could be heard over the sounds of battle.
He reached out a hand and Ambre gratefully took it.
"You almost got hit by an arrow," He said nodding towards an arrow that was plunged into the wood where she stood moments before, "We have to get out of here and warn the neighboring kingdoms."
"I know," Ambre said regretfully, "Order a retreat to Keflin and get the horses ready, there are still people who can be saved."
"As you wish your highness," Grohir bowed and left her to her thoughts.
They had no chance of standing against an army this powerful on their own. She knew they had to head west and to the nearby kingdom of Keflin where she could regroup and speak to the king. It was all she could do right now, that or face certain death. Soon she heard the war horn echo over the battlefield that had once been her home signaling the retreat.
Looking over the battlefield from a distance, the soldiers were just black silhouettes enclosed together, the shape of it changing with each warrior that fell. She couldn't help but feel she should be on the frontlines with them and defending her home. She placed a hand on her stomach and felt a thump from within, a reminder that it wasn't an option.
She turned her back one last time at the flaming remains of her home, silently promising to herself that the day she laid eyes on Winter's Peak again would be the day when her enemies were slain and peace had returned to Sciolyn.
Ambre wasted no time making her way through what was left of her house and towards the stable. Shouting towards every soldier she saw, calling for a retreat and telling them to run. She tore off her dress, glad to be rid of the restriction of movement exposing the loose shirt, tight pants, and boots she always hid beneath. Perfect for riding and fighting, she was never really a fan of dresses anyway.
She made her way through the bloodstained snow, the chill in the air almost felt like an afterthought as her mind was lost in all the death around her. Ambre tried to keep her composure, attempting to ignore the burned and bloodied bodies that were scattered across the snow. The horn echoed again over the battlefield and she saw two elves running in her direction. They weren't clad in the armor of the invaders but she still cautiously put a hand over the hilt of the dagger on her hip. When the flickering of the firelight finally exposed their faces, she realized that she recognized them.
"Fayne! Glahir!" She shouted, "Where's Alietah and the rest?"
"They've retreated south," Fayne replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead and into his shiny red hair, "Grohir ordered us to escort you to the stables. He's preparing the horses now and we'll be ready to leave as soon as you arrive. We can't put you or the child in any more danger."
Ambre carefully rubbed her hand over her slightly plump stomach.
Her child... His child, he had no idea.
With all the panic she'd wished that she was still in fighting shape. Almost suddenly, as if reading her thoughts, her stomach turned and she could feel her mouth become more watery, knowing what was coming next.
"Excuse me," She said, straining.
She turned and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the snow, feeling embarrassed.
"My lady, I don't mean to rush you but we have to go," Glahir said, his strong voice almost sounded soft with the words he spoke.
Ambre nodded, "I know."
The horn sounded one more time and she knew she had to pick up the pace. They were going to push further soon and she didn't want to be there when they did. The distant echoes of a thousand footsteps were all the motivation she needed to get herself to the stables as quickly as possible.
When they arrived she found Grohir already waiting and he helped her up onto a horse.
"We ride to Keflin," He said, addressing the elves and assortment of soldiers that were there with them, "We need to warn the king and the other neighboring kingdoms," He pointed to two soldiers who were already mounted, "One of you will head to Veilon and the other to Halcyon. Warn the Kings and Queens and return to Keflin. We'll regroup and figure out what to do from there."
"What about you?" Ambre asked, "I need you with me on this."
Grohir shook his head, "I will remain here and head south with the rest of the elves and what remains of the villagers then turn north and meet you in Keflin later."
"No, I -"
"Listen to me Ambre! You're old enough to take care of yourself and smart enough to get the help your people need. I will see you at a later time, what matters is that the people are taken care of. I know what I need to do and you know what you need to do," He paused and glanced down at his feet and sighed apologetically, "Ride fast," He said in almost a whisper, "Make sure you and the child are safe. Do it for me."
Ambre felt a lump in her throat and tears began to surface from her bright blue eyes, "Please be safe."
"I promise."
The sounds of the battlefield grew quiet as Ambre, Fayne, and Glahir rode into the snowy darkness. Only the tap of the horse's hooves upon the cold stone road kept the agonizing sound of silence from letting her thoughts and fears overwhelm her. The ride would be long and there was no time to rest, no matter how much she wanted to. She took one more look at the orange glow of her burning village on the horizon before determinedly riding towards Keflin.
They would pay, all of them.
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