The Rise Of The Fallen

The water was murky though she still scrubbed her clothes in its filth. Lydia Vernon was a

servant to the General and due to the ongoing war, her duties had increased tenfold. She was

wrung out and thought that her mind had become an abyss of nothing. That spark that once

had burned bright within her, now answered to nothing and that flame was gone. Lydia

dreamed of living alone with her family, but even that dwindled to nothing.

She tended to the General and chased him like a dog chases its own tail. The women around

her suddenly broke into hushed whispers and Lydia immediately knew who approached.

“Lydia,” The General of the Kozier army spoke. She wiped her wet hands on her skirt and

met his eyes. “Yes, my Lord?” Lydia established a momentum she preferred to leave

undisturbed yet this male never cared for it. Over a century none seemed to care about a

woman unless it benefited them. And if there was she was sure they were sent to the gallows

or swallowed by crackling flames. Were women to be submissive and obedient to men?

They had free reign. So, Lydia held her tongue. “My swords. I want them sharpened, then

oiled and food prepared for my men and I at noon.” “Anything else?” she asked. He smirked

and whispered, “Also, send one of your concubines to my bedchambers this evening.”

Lydia’s stomach curdled and though her mind raged against her she quietly obeyed. “As you

wish, my Lord.” The General nodded and left satisfied while Lydia stood, looking at his

retreating figure. Smothering hatred suffocated her in such a way that she could barely stand.

Lydia felt her skirts being tugged on until she acknowledged the child that sat on the floor

against the cobblestone of the well. “He asked for me, didn't he?” When she nodded her head

and didn’t meet the child's eyes, she hated herself for it. Lydia hated that she was born a
damned woman because she knew that her thoughts and dreams, like the others, would be

insignificant and deferred.

***

The steel that laid across Lydia’s lap now gleamed. Lydia had long forgotten about the rag

beside her as she stared at her reflection that glowed in the sword. She was alone in the

stables and thought of doing something dangerous and reckless. Lydia rose and stared at the

shadow of a crazy woman with a sword in her hand. She swung the steel twice. The air

vibrated as sharp steel sliced through it and she hungered more. Her wrist hurt and she

dropped the sword a few times, but she still tried again. Wielding the sword was like a dance

and she felt as though she were unstoppable. An unrelenting sob roared through her as she

lost herself to the sword and as she swung then lunged, an untrained enraged woman alone

with a sword, she turned and heard the air sing once more then halted the sharp-edged sword

abruptly at the neck of the General who stared at her with disgust. Lydia was horrified.

She dropped the sword that now clattered to the floor and retreated back, tripping over her

own feet. The General charged at her and beat her relentlessly. Lydia became blind with pain.

“You want to be a soldier? Then take it. Take the pain. Feel it. Lydia sobbed trying so hard to

kick herself free, far away from him. Lydia found herself bloodied and bruised outside the

stables. “You are a woman. Start acting like one.” And the General left.

Only for another to return. The General of the Natriyah army. She walked with feline grace,

poised with danger. The General kneeled before Lydia. She had delicately pointed ears just

like Lydia’s though she hid them well. The fae General’s black hair gleamed in the night.

“Join me and you will never have to endure anything like this again.” She’d heard of the
Generals' armies but had never known Kozier was against an army led by a…woman. Tears

blurred Lydia’s vision but she still looked at the General as though this were all a dream.

“Come with me,” she whispered, “and I’ll teach you how to fight back.” A branch broke in

the distance but she could still hear the delicate patter of the young girl’s footsteps, could still

see her standing there behind the tree. “Go.” she seemed to whisper.

Lydia looked at the General one last time and took her hand. From behind her, entire armies

of women appeared ready for battle. These women were taking back their power, their right

to choice. Lydia was done bowing to men, she would fight back and free the others trapped

just like her. God help them–Lydia Vernon who burned with such rage would become a force

to be reckoned with. The General handed Lydia her sword. “Aim for the heart and do not

yield.” They were a legion of women who delivered swift justice in the night, for themselves

and for those who could not. “Tonight, we rise.”

***

Lydia delivered the rotting head of the Kozier General to the King and his son, the Prince,

who finally had enough, had slit his fathers throat that night and claimed the throne by

birthright. He led with the strength of his heart and with the trust of his people. A new army

was forged that welcomed women both fae and human and as for Lydia, her dream had

resurrected, once it had been carved out of fear and rage but now it burned with courage and

passion. That young girl she’d once taken care of would be hers to raise. Peace had never

been achieved without war. Though there were few that still believed in the old ways it was

Lydia and the King that dealt with them. Times were changing, opportunities unlocked but to
what end? Lydia asked herself. And it was that flame that finally set ablaze that responded in

kind, To whatever end.