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femslashficlets2015-06-14 06:00 pm
samuraiter) wrote in femslashficlets2015-06-14 06:00 pm
Entry tags:
FIC: Rite of Summons [Age of Ishtaria – Assur / Knight (F) (Mature)]
Title: Rite of Summons
Fandom: Age of Ishtaria
Pairing: Assur / Knight of Ishtaria (F)
Rating: Mature
Prompt: 011 – Faith
Word Count: 800
Summary: A Knight of Ishtaria dies in the arms of her last heroine.
* * * *
The flames had already reached the building – a chapel, small and unadorned, as befitted a village in the hinterlands, a village that Elesbed and her heroes had been sent to defend. And they had defended it. The monsters had come for them, and they had fought for every home, every hearth, as the instructors at the academy had demanded. But heroes had their limits, and so did the Knights of Ishtaria who summoned them. The monsters had been defeated, but all of the heroes had been destroyed in trying to face down their leader. Except for Assur. She had been there to defend Elesbed.
Assur – from the order of the same name, one of a number of heroines whose real names had never been recorded, but who had been reincarnated due to their dedication to the cause. Her specialty had been the art of healing, and she had pushed it to its limits to keep her companions alive for as long as she could. But she had nothing more to give, and she had already started to fade ... because her Knight had been injured in the struggle, and could no longer sustain her presence. Elesbed had her head resting on her lap, already unable to see the chapel burning down around them.
"I am here," Assur said, touching her face, smoothing her hair. "Do not be afraid." She already had her cloak – the red cloak of a graduate from the academy, not the blue of a full Knight who had already survived years of service – draped across her body, hiding her wounds. Assur had enough white magic left in her to ease her suffering, to reduce the pain, but she could only comfort her, not heal her, and every second made her hands seem less and less ... real – present, but insubstantial, as if the fire and smoke around them both had already started to turn her back into the spirit she had been.
Elesbed took deep breaths, each one a major effort, and Assur realized that the end could no longer be averted. She had only to treasure the moments the two of them had left together, and she said, her lips close to the ears of her listener, "Do you remember the first day, Elesbed, the day you summoned me and the others? Zagan put this cloak upon your shoulders on that day. You looked so strong, then, strong and confident. That memory shall always be with me." The crackling of the fire seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of them. "It was not so long ago, was it?"
She held Elesbed close, whispering, "You reminded me of my sisters in the order. You believed in the gods, and your faith never wavered. You never doubted the cause, you never doubted any of us." Her voice trembled. "You believed in me, more than I believed in myself. That is why you led us here when the odds were against us. You held the conviction that the few of us could still make a difference. And, in the end, you were right. We fought them off. This village will be saved." The breaths became short, ragged. Almost time. "You are as much a hero as any of us, Elesbed. My love."
Assur looked up at the ceiling, through the smoke to the night sky beyond. "I implore you all, gods of mercy and compassion. She embodies the ideals of Assur, perhaps more than I do. Please, number her soul among all of ours, make her one of us." For a moment, in the heart of the flames, only a last, gasping breath, then ... silence. And, in that instant, Assur could feel light filling her heart, as if she had been called to the order for the first time all over again. "Thank you. Now ... call us home. Both of us." She touched her forehead to that of her Elesbed, closed her eyes, and waited.
In the morning, of the chapel, nothing remained but ash and ruin. The villagers, returning from the safety of their rough-and-tumble stockade, could find no trace of the young Knight of Ishtaria – fresh from the academy, exhausted after a long journey to the edges of civilization, but still more than willing to stand and fight – who had saved them from the monsters of the Storm. It almost seemed as if she had dissipated in the same way that the heroes she summoned did after the deaths. The villagers, too, thanked the gods, for she had given her life to save theirs, leaving hope in her wake.
Back at the academy, a year later, when another red-cloaked graduate summoned her first hero, it was a young woman with a familiar face, wearing the white robes of the Assur ....
END.
Fandom: Age of Ishtaria
Pairing: Assur / Knight of Ishtaria (F)
Rating: Mature
Prompt: 011 – Faith
Word Count: 800
Summary: A Knight of Ishtaria dies in the arms of her last heroine.
* * * *
The flames had already reached the building – a chapel, small and unadorned, as befitted a village in the hinterlands, a village that Elesbed and her heroes had been sent to defend. And they had defended it. The monsters had come for them, and they had fought for every home, every hearth, as the instructors at the academy had demanded. But heroes had their limits, and so did the Knights of Ishtaria who summoned them. The monsters had been defeated, but all of the heroes had been destroyed in trying to face down their leader. Except for Assur. She had been there to defend Elesbed.
Assur – from the order of the same name, one of a number of heroines whose real names had never been recorded, but who had been reincarnated due to their dedication to the cause. Her specialty had been the art of healing, and she had pushed it to its limits to keep her companions alive for as long as she could. But she had nothing more to give, and she had already started to fade ... because her Knight had been injured in the struggle, and could no longer sustain her presence. Elesbed had her head resting on her lap, already unable to see the chapel burning down around them.
"I am here," Assur said, touching her face, smoothing her hair. "Do not be afraid." She already had her cloak – the red cloak of a graduate from the academy, not the blue of a full Knight who had already survived years of service – draped across her body, hiding her wounds. Assur had enough white magic left in her to ease her suffering, to reduce the pain, but she could only comfort her, not heal her, and every second made her hands seem less and less ... real – present, but insubstantial, as if the fire and smoke around them both had already started to turn her back into the spirit she had been.
Elesbed took deep breaths, each one a major effort, and Assur realized that the end could no longer be averted. She had only to treasure the moments the two of them had left together, and she said, her lips close to the ears of her listener, "Do you remember the first day, Elesbed, the day you summoned me and the others? Zagan put this cloak upon your shoulders on that day. You looked so strong, then, strong and confident. That memory shall always be with me." The crackling of the fire seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of them. "It was not so long ago, was it?"
She held Elesbed close, whispering, "You reminded me of my sisters in the order. You believed in the gods, and your faith never wavered. You never doubted the cause, you never doubted any of us." Her voice trembled. "You believed in me, more than I believed in myself. That is why you led us here when the odds were against us. You held the conviction that the few of us could still make a difference. And, in the end, you were right. We fought them off. This village will be saved." The breaths became short, ragged. Almost time. "You are as much a hero as any of us, Elesbed. My love."
Assur looked up at the ceiling, through the smoke to the night sky beyond. "I implore you all, gods of mercy and compassion. She embodies the ideals of Assur, perhaps more than I do. Please, number her soul among all of ours, make her one of us." For a moment, in the heart of the flames, only a last, gasping breath, then ... silence. And, in that instant, Assur could feel light filling her heart, as if she had been called to the order for the first time all over again. "Thank you. Now ... call us home. Both of us." She touched her forehead to that of her Elesbed, closed her eyes, and waited.
In the morning, of the chapel, nothing remained but ash and ruin. The villagers, returning from the safety of their rough-and-tumble stockade, could find no trace of the young Knight of Ishtaria – fresh from the academy, exhausted after a long journey to the edges of civilization, but still more than willing to stand and fight – who had saved them from the monsters of the Storm. It almost seemed as if she had dissipated in the same way that the heroes she summoned did after the deaths. The villagers, too, thanked the gods, for she had given her life to save theirs, leaving hope in her wake.
Back at the academy, a year later, when another red-cloaked graduate summoned her first hero, it was a young woman with a familiar face, wearing the white robes of the Assur ....
END.