*SLIGHT GORE WARNING*
(More of Zahava's history.. This one's pretty long and is slightly graphic to any of those who might be squeamish. Thank you for taking the time to read; you are greatly appreciated!)
Chapter 1||Chapter 2
The man fitted a piece over her chest and then another over her hindquarters to protect her flanks. Zah snorted as he also shoved a wooden helm onto her cervine face. Finally, he placed a leather saddle on her back, pulling the girth so tight she felt like she couldn’t breathe for a moment.
“Alright, on your way,” the blacksmith said, ushering her out of his large tent.
The black doe went off to find her rider in the sea of faces. She recalled Commander Tahoe’s description of him: “A scrawny, light haired thing of a human who appears to be permanently petrified.” And his name was Tray apparently. Great.
When she finally did find him, she almost ran over him. His head didn’t even reach her back; Zah had to bend her head and neck down to get a good look at him.
The commander was right. Even though this was the first time she had ever taken time to examine a human, she could tell by his wide eyes and fear-smell that he was clearly unsettled. Zah would hardly consider him a man; he looked young, smelled young.
His armor looked as poorly made as her own.
The black hind felt something in that moment, and she wasn’t sure what to call it. Pity maybe? Sympathy?
Both of them were extras, unimportant pawns in the game they called war. Their orders were to fight at the front lines; a death sentence, plain and simple. They’d march to their execution today; in that way, they were one in the same.
As Zah continued to stare at her own, alien reflection in his eyes, the young man started to appear less afraid. Just slightly so at least.
“Well, up you get.” Zah told him quietly, the breath of her voice blowing the messy bangs from his face.
Tray clambered up into the saddle and tried to get comfortable on the rough piece of leather. Zah didn’t mind that much, he barely weighed anything. She was just glad that -unlike the deer in the king’s army- she wouldn’t have to wear one of those awful-looking bits they put in the mouth to control the animals. Oddly enough, deer and humans seemed to fight as cohorts in the Resistance. She still wore a bridle of sorts that went around her muzzle, but it would only be used in serious circumstances.
Zah felt like the march to the city of Gershona went on for hours as they walked through a forest of impossibly tall pine trees. Zah herself saw nothing more than the ground beneath her feet and the wooded horizon in front of her; to everything else, she was oblivious.
Eventually, they broke out of the woods, and as expected, the King’s army met them on the outskirts of the city in the vast croplands. This year’s crop of corn and wheat had already been harvested, and now they trampled over the rotting remains of the plants left behind. In the distance, the inner city could be seen safe behind its stone walls. Zah didn’t notice any of it though; she was too focused on the army that lay before her.
There her executioners stood. Once more, they were adorned in their dark gray armor and their blues and whites that looked like they had not seen a single battle. Not unlike the last battle she had seen, the King’s army outnumbered the Resistance. The King’s army didn’t have nearly as many deer as did the Resistance though; their army consisted mainly of brawny men who seemed fully battle trained.
If not for the gentle tug from the soft reins of her bridle, Zah probably wouldn’t have stopped to form the line. Someone shouted orders and encouragements to the Resistance, but the black doe didn’t hear it. Instead, she stared blankly. She had come to the somber realization of her fate and accepted it.
The hind looked up towards the sky for what she knew would be the last time. Above her, carrion birds circled as ominous, black figures against the pale blue. Her scavenger comrades would show no mercy to her now.
It was time. Trays leg’s trembled against the doe’s sides. Zah tensed her whole body, gritting her teeth and glaring at her prey across the field. She wasn’t afraid. She’d go down fighting.
The Resistance was the first to charge at the sound of one of the human commander’s fierce battle cries. From behind, the Resistance pushed forward, and Zah took off, the rest of the frontline rushing with her. Men put their swords forward, deer put their heads down.
Zah felt deaf and numb as she raced for the other army’s front. She saw their mouths moving with shouts of war, but heard nothing. It was all surreal, like some kind of dream.
Still, she charged. Straight ahead of her was a large stag with an evil glint in his eye. She put her head down to meet him, powering off from her hind legs on the last stride for a final push. Instead of ramming him though, she swerved at the last moment, dipping her head to catch the stag’s back leg with her hooked antler. At the same time, she felt the stag’s rider slash at the wooden armor on her neck.
Her aim was true, and the deer went hurdling down, rider and all. Something Zah hadn’t expected was the painful tug it would induce on her own head and neck; she almost went down from the shock of it. There was just a stumble though, and she was back in her even stride. The downed stag was dead as far as she was concerned.
It was then that Zah finally felt awake and alive. Her senses were flooded with the clashing of armor and swords, the screams of men and creatures, the grit of the army behind and before her.
Zah was the first to reach the main body of the army ahead of her; the men out front had gotten down and put up shields and lances to deter a slamming charge. Zah couldn’t be deterred at that point though; she was filled with a blood lust that seemed more characteristic of her old body than this one.
She felt Tray desperately grab at the fur on her shoulders and clamp his legs to her sides, deciphering what she intended to do at the last second.
Taking a flying leap, she cleared row of men with their shields and lances. One lance tore a bit of flesh on her upper leg and a whizzing arrow caught an exposed portion of her shoulder. When she landed in the midst of the army, to say she was infuriated would have been an understatement.
The flag holder stood directly in front of her; apparently they had gotten a new flag considering Zah had stolen the last one. He had the nerve to bash the large hind on the head with the heavy metal pole. Angrily, Zah dipped her head and thrust her antlers into his gut. When she pulled back, she realized one of her spikes had caught the flag and now it clung to the base of the antler. She tossed her head to get the thing out of her face as the man before her slumped lifelessly to the ground. The army retaliated against her with renewed vigor.
Tray desperately slashed and stabbed with his sword that was much too heavy for him. The crowd of armored men surrounding them was overwhelming. Zah kicked and swung her heavy head and threw her weight around, trying to make space. Both felt the sting of swords slash at exposed skin and bash at their weakening armor.
For the first time that day, Zah felt a twinge of fear. Death was before her, calling her name with its sickly sweet voice; it threatened to swallow her in its bottomless pit.
The rest of the Resistance finally caught up to her, and she heard the deafening crash of metal on metal as they met the frontlines of the King’s army. The men surrounding her now had more problems to deal with than just the black doe and her weakling of a rider.
Zah saw the opening then, and felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with something that was either courage or stupidity - she never could tell the dissimilarity between the two. She tucked her head and roughly tore out the arrow lodge there, fearing it might hinder her. The hind then threw her head down and charged forward into the jaws of death; the flag still clung to her antler and billowed as she ran. Tray sounded a shrill battle cry.
For endless minutes that felt like hours the doe and rider fought their way through the King’s ranks, the rest of the Resistance right on their heels. Neither could have told you how many they killed, or how many swords pierced them. It all seemed a bloody haze.
Zah formerly thought she knew what war was. For the past year, she had watched many battles, and even caused some of them. She realized she didn’t know the real meaning of the word. Now, she did. This was war.
Men and creatures wailed as they were slain by swords, antlers, and teeth. Underneath, soldiers lay drowning in their own blood, suffering from mortal wounds. The dirt began to turn into a deep shade of red. The air reeked with the smells of guts and organs torn from bodies and strewn over the ground. Above, carrion birds screeched in excitement, cheering for death. Lives were snuffed out left and right with no one to mourn them. Zah’s limbs grew heavier and heavier, her head dizzy from the blood loss. The flag that clung to her antler was saturated with blood. Still, she pressed on.
The black hind would never recall the number of men she killed. She refused to count them, to degrade them to being a mere number in her mind. This was the first time she had ever killed like this, killed for a purpose other than to eat; it was a different kind of killing. Somehow, the more men she killed in that battle, the more respect she began to have for them. She’d remember them as the brave soldiers they were; she’d remember their faces, their dying breaths. The details would be forever ingrained in her brain.
Tray was also weakening. More than once, Zah had to swerve to keep under him and prevent him from falling. He could barely lift the sword anymore.
Another stag and rider stood before them. This deer even rivaled Tahoe’s great stature with gold armor that made him look rather important. The man on his back looked much the same: much too large and too important. No matter.
Zah prepared to ram him, her hind legs catapulting her further with her last reserves of strength. The stag did the same. Only having to cross a few feet, they meet each other with fatal force.
Zah snaked her neck at the last moment to try and get to his spine, like Tahoe had taught her. She felt the stag’s sharpened tines slice at the underside of her neck. But her aim was true... Her spikes buried themselves deep between the stag’s shoulder blades. The towering giant fell in a paralyzed heap, dragging Zah down with him.
The doe struggled to pull her spikes out of the stag’s spine. Desperately, she tugged back and fought to get her feet back under her. She heard the two men fighting with their swords above her.
Tray let out a wounded wail, taking a harsh hit to his shoulder.
Finally, Zah freed herself, immediately swinging her heat to hit the other man away. She hit him so hard that he went flying off the stag and knocked his helm off.
Zah drug herself to her feet, her limbs shaking with the effort, her teeth gritting with the pain. Slowly, she walked over to the man as he frantically crawled backwards. When she reached him, there was such a panic in his eyes that she wished herself blind right then. He froze and begged with his eyes... But there’s no such thing as mercy on the battlefield.
Zah reared up on her hind legs and came slamming down on his skull with her front hooves. She felt the sickening crunch of his death.
It was then that the doe and her heavily injured rider realized they had just pushed through the final ranks of the King’s army. They stood on the other side of the battle, staring at the stone city of Gershona across the fields. Did this mean she had won? Was she finished?
One of the King’s battle-trained canines answered that for her when it attached herself to her back, right ankle. She might have thought it was a gray wolf if not for its flopped ears.
She kicked her back leg, trying to dislodge the creature. The dog shook violently and Zah let out something that sounded like a hoarse scream. Her back end collapsed and the dog was halfway to bringing her down. Tray was helpless, having dropped his sword when the man slashed his shoulder.
Zah tried in vain to heave herself back up; she just didn’t have the strength left. Her body was about to give in when the dog was forcefully ripped from her leg.
She swung her head back to see Tahoe send the gray canine flying through the air. The creature landed several feet away and, before he could even get back up, Rayn was there. The light brown doe fell onto her knees, stabbing at the dog with her antlers as he yelped and eventually died.
The black doe was able to get back up at last. Three of her feet splayed out to keep her steady; her injured hind leg was held up. She was afraid that she’d fall if she moved.
Suddenly, men started running past her. The King’s army was retreating. She watched as some of the able bodied Resistance soldiers chased after them. Zah herself was quite content to never move again, remaining planted to the spot.
Tray slide off the doe’s back and onto the ground. Zah swiveled her head around to tentatively sniff at him; he’d live, but that shoulder didn’t look like it would ever be the same again.
The young man and the doe regarded each other; somehow, they had both made it out alive. Tray reached up and pulled the bloody flag of Zah's antler. If not for the faint outline of the King's white mount, the cloth would have been unrecognizable. A hole was torn straight through the middle of the white stag.
He examined the flag and shook his head slowly in disbelief. “Didn’t really think you’d turn out to be a good warrior,” Tray told her sheepishly.
Her eyes narrowed for a moment, but then softened. She hadn’t thought she would be either. “Ditto, Kid.”
“Guess we won, huh?” he went on breathlessly, holding his hand to his injured shoulder and wincing.
Zah looked back over her shoulder to gaze at the grisly sight of the battlefield. It was littered with dead and dying bodies; some she had killed herself. She wondered if they’d leave them there to rot like the unwanted leftovers of the last crop.
This didn’t really feel like a victory.
(I wish I could adequately express my gratitude to you for taking the time to read this.. Please, helpful critique is very welcome here.)
I love this story. I've read
thanks so much :')
You described the battle
thanks ♥
More, please.
Loving this so far.
Thank you, Tuo and Kohva!
thanks, I'll try ^^