Ashara from the Kingdoms of Laena

Ashara was careful to keep her breath quiet and her body pressed against the trunk of the tree. Her nostrils were filled with the putrid smell of Orbita’s hand-crafted orcs as they escorted a group of dwarf survivors to her castle for enslavement.

She counted at least fifty of the orcs in the camp. Not an army, but it still would not be smart to take them on alone. She clenched the hilt of her sword, her aqua-blue eyes narrowed from the hill where she spotted them. Straining her ears, she was able to hear the rough grunts of their voices.

“Still a tree-week trek to da boss, an' we ain't go no meat left!” one was grumbling.

“Forget da meat, da fuckin' pointy-ears raided da caravan. We ain’t got enuff food for da way back.”

“Could always 'ave some of da prisoners. Queen won’t mind if we eat a few of da small 'uns.” Another orc said with a laugh.

Ashara felt her grip on her sword hilt tighten, and her teeth ground so hard that her jaw started to hurt. No time to wait for backup.

“What do you mean, the small ones? They’re dwarves; they’re all small.” One orc chuckled, and soon there was bellowing laughter as they approached their prisoners. Blades were being sharpened; their yellowed teeth were grinning wide.

“The kids, Orbita doesn’t care about them. They’ve got no experience; she won’t mind if some of them go missing.” One particularly fat orc growled.

The hostages were crying and pleading, but through their gags no words could be heard. Disgust welled in Ashara’s breast: the casual cruelty, the effortless evil. She could feel adrenaline pumping through her veins, her muscles itching to act.

“Dibs on the fat one; he looks like he’s been fattened with lots of pig meat. Nice and succulent-“

“NO!” Ashara’s voice came out after her body had jumped. Enhanced through her magic armour, she fell on the orcs like an arrowhead, spinning in the air; she stabbed her sword through the first orc’s chest with a force that shattered bones.

“What the-“ The second orc didn’t get any time to react, for at the next moment Ashara had responded; first she cut his leg off, and with a second deadly stroke she cleaved the second orc in half. The third had just enough time to weakly swing his sword, but Ashara dodged it effortlessly and backhanded with her left hand, and once again it paid to have plated, enchanted armour, which crushed through his skull like butter.

Ashara grinned at her victory, but only for a moment. She had exhausted her element of surprise, and now she was surrounded by about forty-seven orcs, by her estimate, and she would have to fight them all. It was reckless, and her father would kill her for taking the risk.

“You’re not hurting these people.” She growled, clutching her sword with both hands. “Or anyone else ever again!”

“It’s that damn blondie. Get her, boys!”

She anticipated their charge, but they were haphazard and unorganised, and left multiple openings in their battle line. “You’re welcome to try.”

She threw herself between the lines, intentionally putting herself on the low ground. The orcs sensed that she had made a mistake and swarmed her, at least forty orcs at once. They were mistaken.

Ashara intentionally gave ground, parrying their attacks but never going for a kill and leaving herself vulnerable. The orcs were grinning, laughing as she backstepped down the hill; every parry she made earned another jeer.

“This is Laena’s great hero?”

“Looks like she’s better suited for ballet than battle.”

“Come on, put the sword down; I promise we’ll be gentle.”

“A shame,” Ashara growled with a grin. “I wasn’t going to return the favour.”

She leapt; her armour, enchanted to be as light as a feather, allowed her to somersault over the heads of the orcs. One managed to knock her ankle, sending her off course, but with a simple shoulder roll she was able to correct her mistake. Growling, the orcs turned to charge up the hill, another mistake.

Her sword, Lionclaw, cut through the trunk of one particularly large withered tree more cleanly than any axe and with a small push it fell down at Ashara’s feet. She saw the smarter orcs’ eyes light up with worry at what she was about to do, how she had lured them away from the hostages, to the bottom of the hill where gravity would be on her side.

“Timber.”

She kicked the tree, and it went tumbling down the hill.The orcs scattered, but it was too little, too late. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty orcs were crushed by the rolling tree. When it was done, only a scant five remained, who all looked at Ashara like she was a reaper. She walked down, almost lazily duelling them with one hand. Not a single one went down to more than three swings; orcs were endless and unyielding, but they were never strong fighters.

Just as Ashara was about to relax and free the hostages, she heard a loud guttural roar and felt the earth shaking between her feet. She didn't even need to turn around to know what that meant: a war troll. She rolled out of the way and flipped around to confirm her suspicions; the behemoth was towering, as tall as a hut. Bulging muscles covered by red skin belonging to a monstrous design. Half monster, half siege engine, Orbita had used these trolls to smash both walls of stone and men with equal ease.

The troll had pulled his club back and brought it down onto Ashara and she was quick to scamper forwards. She slipped between the troll's legs like a cat, slashing her sword against its thigh as she did so. It was limited; against troll skin, even Lionclaw had barely more impact than a blunted sword. She gained only a bleeding bruise and another roar of rage.

She ducked the next swing, and the troll tore up several of the war tents and camp that the orcs had set up. Narrowly avoiding clubbing a dwarf woman's head clean off. Trolls were unintelligent, unable to tell enemies apart, so it raised its club to beat the slaves.

"NO!" Ashara screamed. Ignoring the risk, she rushed into club range and darted in front of the troll. "ARCUS!"

Lionclaw glowed blue and reshaped itself into a bow; a quiver appeared on Ashara's back as well. She nocked three arrows; they'd be of no more use against troll skin than a sword, but Ashara had an idea. "Over here, you walking dung brain."

It turned, and Ashara loosed her first arrow. It struck the troll in its one healthy eye. The troll staggered back; a hand covered the wound as it roared a second time. Ashara's second arrow silenced it, only because she had pierced the underside of its tongue and stuck it to the top of the skull. Troll skulls were uniquely designed, and Ashara had studied them well. Her second arrow had struck bone, but it was just a hair's width away from a joint where there was only flesh between the mouth and the brain.

A weak point that her third arrow pierced, splitting the second and striking the troll's brain in an instant. It was instant, a quick death, and the creature collapsed to the ground with a thud.

Ashara checked around the camp to ensure there were no other of Orbita's minions. Once satisfied, she turned back to the slaves, all of them gazing up at Ashara with wide eyes. Some had formed tears of gratitude, and others were making muffled pleas of thanks. Ashara blushed; she never knew how to respond to this sort of praise.

"Hang on, I'll get you out. Sica." Lionclaw glowed blue again and became a small, short dagger. The orc ropes were cut through like string, and it wasn't long before Ashara had all twenty-three of them freed. "There you go."

"Thank you, brave warrior. Wait, that sword. You’re the Champion of Laena, right? Ashara?" One of the dwarfs said, his voice was hoarse, weakened from his slavery. From the tattoo on his arm, he seemed to be the highest-ranked, a Longbeard Lord. "Aren't you supposed to be kept in Vael with the Blue Wizard?"

"Yes, well... how am I supposed to save the world if I don't get any experience?" Ashara said defensively. "You're not going to tell the Blue Wizard, are you?"

"After you saved our lives? It's the least we can do." The Longbeard Lord said, smiling good-naturedly. "I just wish we knew where we were going to go. Is there anywhere around here that Orbita's not burned?"

"Iron Mountain's only two days' walk yonder," Ashara said, pointing to the North-West. "They always need more smiths."

The dwarves looked to each other in concern. "We're from Iron Mountain."

Ashara felt her heart freeze like ice. "What?"

"Orbita took Iron Mountain; she enslaved thousands, and she killed everyone else." The dwarf said, staring at the floor. His face was etched with grief. "There were so many bodies; they filled the mines with blood.."

"No." Ashara's voice broke into a shake. It was bad enough to know that a city had fallen and how many were dead, but Iron Mountain was Laena's only source of mithril. Without it, they'd never be able to make any more enchanted weapons. They were already on the back foot; now the war seemed hopeless.

"I...I..." Pull yourself together, Ashara. You're the Champion of Laena, you can't afford to fall apart like this. "I'll escort you to the capital. I need to inform the Blue Wizard about the fall of the Iron Mountain. We’ll avoid the main routes; I know a route through the mountains, avoiding Orbita’s minions.”

Ashara forced a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, good Dwarf Lord, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Two weeks later

It was never an easy trip, and Ashara wished she had her Pegasus Alae with her, but she wouldn’t have been able to carry the twenty dwarf refugees with her. Ashara knew that her father wouldn’t be happy that she had snuck out when they received word that Iron Mountain was under siege. Not least of all because of the worry that she might be dead with the fall of Iron Mountain.

It still made Ashara’s heart clench hearing of the fall of Iron Mountain, not only because of what it would mean for the war effort, but also because it was one of the last dwarf cities. They were being stretched thinner and thinner, and there were fewer of the allied people left to fight Orbita. And somehow, according to prophecy, it was up to Ashara to somehow stop it.

At least their journey was over now; they had reached the capital of Vael. A gleaming metropolis that spread as far as the eye could see, surrounded by mountains and rivers, it was a melting pot for all the species and allied people who were willing to resist Orbita’s tyranny.

“It’s such a wonderful view, isn’t it, Ashara?” A familiarly warm, yet despondent voice said from behind her.

Turning quickly she saw none other than her father, the Blue Wizard. A man cloaked in blue robes and nursing a great, long beard appeared behind her. He was legendary throughout the Kingdoms of Laena as the only one who could match Orbita's magical knowledge, but with none of her cruelty. He had raised Ashara himself; even with his duties and burden, he still had found time to be a wonderful father to Ashara.

But in some ways Ashara wished that he hadn't been that good of a father. How much time had he spent raising Ashara that he could have better spent on the war effort? Would Iron Mountain, the Indigo Grove or the cloud pastures have fallen had he not been distracted by her? And perhaps it would be easier for him, for both of them, to accept Ashara's role in the prophecy if he didn't become so close to her.

"Iron Mountain has fallen, Father," Ashara said, voice filled with bitterness.

"Let's go home, Ashara; it will be easier to have this discussion in private. You need rest." The Blue Wizard said, placing a hand on her shoulder and guiding her home. His voice was warm, gentle and comforting, as if Ashara had merely failed a simple test rather than lost a kingdom.

Her father cast an illusion spell upon them with a wave of his hand as he escorted Ashara back to the palace, to avoid unwanted attention. They passed through the streets of Vael like nobodies, and it was clear that word of Iron Mountain’s fall had not arrived. The streets continued to bustle as a cosmopolitan city, and the market stalls in the streets could be heard opening up stores.

Ashara had always enjoyed the markets of the Vael and wished she could stay longer. The smell of elven incense, dwarven ale and human food, the warm gossip and greetings from a thousand different people. Everyone was friends in Vael, if only because they had to be. The city had been founded by refugees and they could not afford to be enemies, they were all friends in Vael.

And they’d have a lot more friends with Iron Mountain’s fall now.

"Did you not hear me? I said Iron Mountain has fallen." Ashara did not resist her father's guidance even as she protested. Allowing herself to be guided back to the palace all the same.

"I know, Ashara, but we have more important things to discuss." The Blue Wizard was now looking around them to ensure they weren’t being watched as they were being led into the war room. A quiet chamber with a large table with a tablecloth depicting the lands of Laena and covered with elegant figures of wood and stone. Sometimes the room could be rowdy with generals but today it was silent apart from the slight flickering of the fireplace.

"More important things, but what could possibly be-"

"It's time."

Those two words were mentioned, and it was as if the world had stopped turning. Someone had carved through her every moment in her life, from before this moment and after this moment to come. It was time for Ashara to do what she was born to do.

When she was young, the Kingdoms of Laena had received a prophecy, a prophecy that stated that Ashara would be the only one with the power to save their kingdom. Ashara would be summoned to serve as a champion of Laena before the gods themselves, and should she prove worthy in this contest and prove the victor, then Laena would be saved. The true details of the prophecy were known only to the most important leaders of the Kingdoms, but vague rumours had nevertheless leaked out for all of Laena to know.

Ashara found her knees buckling, and she found herself falling back into one of the uncomfortable seats, her armor scraping against the wooden furnish. "When did it arrive?"

"Just this morning, Ashara." The Blue Wizard said grimly. He pulled an envelope out of his robe and threw it on the table, Ashara could tell that he was fighting back tears. "We can delay; we don't have to answer the summons immediately; we can-"

"No," Ashara said firmly, her fists clenched in her lap. "I'm sorry, Father, but we can't delay. Every day we wait, the more Orbita's armies march, and the more likely something goes wrong. Father, this is our only chance."

"I just...it's just..." The Blue Wizard was uncharacteristically stumbling over his own words, then finally he slammed his fists on the table. “This isn’t fair. None of this is fair on you, Ashara. You’re not ready.”

“No, Father, I am. I have to be.” Ashara said, and before she could allow herself to be lured by excuses, she grabbed the invitation.

Kingdom of Laena,

You have been invited to send a champion to partake in a contest of nations. Should you participate, the Kingdoms of Laena’s war against Orbita will end; should your champion emerge the victor, she’ll also be granted a magic wish. Upon acceptance, your champion will be summoned to us immediately.

We are eager to hear your reply.

Even by reading the letter, Ashara knew it was genuine. She had honed her magical senses over the years, and they had all latched onto this invitation as nothing less than an absolutely sincere offer. There might be a catch, there might be more to it, but in the end it didn’t matter to Ashara. It was the only hope.

“Wish me luck, Father.” She said as she passed the envelope back. There was no doubt as to the fact that this chosen champion would be Ashara. The prophecy had left little doubt.

“Please be careful. You’ve always thought with your heart Ashara but here you need to learn to think with your head.”

“You always say that Father, but when have I ever let you down?” Ashara asked, and the Blue Wizard had the good grace to nod.

“I know Ashara, but this will be your greatest challenge yet. I’ve always wanted you to learn to be careful for this very moment. But we’re out of time, but however I can aid you, sweet daughter, I will.” He said hoarsely. He couldn’t make out the words, so he simply nodded towards the letter.

Immediately Ashara found herself lurching through space and time and towards her destiny. It was like she was falling from a high cliff with gravity redirected in a different direction. Her surroundings disappeared into blue light, as soon as her father disappeared from her sight Ashara felt her heart clench in regret for all the time she should have spent together.

But she had no time to reflect on these thoughts before she was thrown back into reality. Her feet landed on an unfamiliar substance, and her eyes were blinded with lights that came from neither the sun, candles, nor magic. The walls were made out of marble, but the architecture was different, as if there was no magic holding it together and just simple gravity.

“And here she is! All the way from the Kingdoms of Laena herself, our first contestant in this contest of nations." A beautiful woman with golden eyes like a goddess, a huge, impossibly beautiful body, chestnut brown hair that fell to her waist, and breasts that could smother a man alive.

"Are you a Goddess?" Ashara asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice, but even as she said it, Ashara knew not to get her hopes up. The wicked glint in the woman's eyes and the evil smile on her face told her immediately that this wasn't a woman to be trusted.

"Goddess? Oh no, darling, I wouldn't say that. I find it's a term that doesn't do enough justice to the Great, the fabulous and unbelievably sexy HERA!" She announced, waving her hand to an invisible crowd. But even as Ashara heard an audience, she realised that she was alone but for this Hera and a small young man who looked at Ashara with a sheepish expression.

"Now ordinarily, my dear audience, we'd interview our contestant about her life, her job and her connection to the Master-"

"-The what?"

"But this season will have no contestants with a connection to dear Alex here, and there'll be the addition of the civilisations that these women will be representing, who'll be taking part. So let's begin with a discussion of the story of the Kingdoms of Laena so we can get our audience up to speed." Some kind of large black window appeared behind them and then lit up with some kind of enchantment. It was displaying a picture of Laena’s banner, but far clearer and crisper than any magic that Ashara had seen before.

"These are the Kingdoms of Laena, a typical fantasy nation that serves as a federation. Formed over a thousand years ago when Elves, Humans, Dwarves, Dryads and all sorts of lovely different magical kingdoms formed an alliance against evil, and it was certainly for good reason. For a few centuries later, they would need it. For another kingdom was growing.”

Hera’s voice started to get quieter and more intense as the lights around them started to shift dimmer and darker. “The dark queen Orbita, in secret, started to forge her own armies. From her wicked genius, she twisted elves into dark elves, forged wicked demons, legions of orcs, and many other terrible and dark creatures to conquer the Kingdoms of Laena for her dominion. For years the war raged, and for those years the Kingdoms of Laena had resisted, but for all their bravery they were no match for Orbita’s armies.”

The screen changed, replaced with images of their greatest defeats. Ashara saw the boy in the oversized throne gasp in horror, and Ashara herself couldn’t help but flinch. One by one, their kingdoms fell to Orbita’s hordes. First were the night elves, Indigo Groves; then there were the fairies, Sky Pastures; and most recently, the dwarves of the Iron Mountains were put to the sword. But still there was hope.”

The light above Ashara intensified suddenly, enough to nearly blind her. Blinking to adjust to the light, Ashara found a strange kind of magic wand jabbed into her face like it was one of the wands that chariot racer announcers used.

“So tell us about yourself, Ashara, and what your people want from these games," Hera said, her face far too excited to be trustworthy. Nevertheless, Ashara steeled herself.

"I am Ashara, the Champion of Laena. When I was young, our priests discovered a prophecy that I would represent our people in a game among the gods. And that should I prove successful, then Laena will know peace and never again be afraid of Orbita or any other evil.” Ashara declared, her gauntlet clenched into a fist in the air.

She saw the man in the oversized throne gape at her. “Wow.”

A glimmer of insecurity and guilt flashed across his face. Was this to be her competition? Perhaps he recognised the righteousness of her cause and might take a dive. She would have to see.

“Very noble, very heroic,” Hera said politely, almost sarcastically. “I’m sure our audience will have a lot of fun pushing this hero to her limit; we’ll see if she breaks under pressure. Ashara, please take a seat.”

She gestured to a chair, and Ashara noticed with some indignation that it was significantly less opulent and comfortable than the man’s throne. She took it without complaint, however, and placed her hands on her lap patiently.

“So, Master Alex,” Hera said, appearing next to the man in less than a blink of an eye. "What are your thoughts on our first contestant?”

“Well, she’s brave, and I feel sorry for her,” Alex admitted, twiddling his fingers. “I hope she wins; I think her people have suffered enough.”

Hera rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, we all feel sorry for her.” She said with no attempt to hide her impatience. “But really, what we’re asking for is the juicy story, for the hot gossip. How sexy do you think she is? What’s her most appealing trait?”

Ashara stiffened as she heard the questions. Such rudeness, such crass language? Did this goddess have no shame?

“What?” Alex said, blushing red and nearly jumping out of his seat. “I didn’t… I don’t… “

“Aww, cute. You’ll have to talk later, but for now let’s wait until the transformations.” Hera said, hands on her hips as she strode past. Ashara felt a shiver of worry. Transformations? That didn’t sound good. Still, she didn’t want to overplay her hand.

“But guys and girls, we have many more contestants to get through and not enough time on our hands. Next on our list is someone quite close to Ashara, she’s had her eye on you for quite a while.” Hera’s golden eyes flickered to Ashara’s with a grin of sadistic delight.

“Wait…” Every inch of Ashara’s face was etched with pure panic. “You can’t… You don’t mean…”

“Straight from the boiling lavas and desolate landscapes of Malica is a dark queen that would make your knees wobble with more than just fear. GIVE IT UP FOR QUEEN ORBITA!”