Temper Tantrum (Dark Blade, Morrigan)

In the dark woods of Fharamun, a beast clashed against the undead.

A swift thing flailed against the undead with a blade held firmly by thin fingers. She swung in fury. Throat-scratching roars and growls left her mouth as she fought more like a beast than those undead knights.

The knights held their cracked shields tightly as they proceeded against her. They encircled her, to not give the thing they faced the chance to escape or break past their position so easily. She had other plans, however.

Like a beast, she ran on all fours. A staff was held in her mouth, and a blade was held in her hand. She jumped and dove into the wall of shields. Her sword flailed with rage, energy burst out of it. It ate through the undead’s armor and shields, and then their bodies as hateful fire wretched out of the sword.

The other undead knights wasted no time to react to her attack. They pilled on her with spears thrust against her neck, shoulders, and hip. The ones with swords aimed at her face, hoping the blood and agony would hinder her movements.

Like a beast, she roared as thunder struck the ground, a flash of white pierced the darkness. Instead of stopping, her fury only increased. Hateful fire and energy seethed and gathered around her body. The battle had only just started.

She attacked them, her blows followed with delays— the tempo between attacks was arrhythmic. The tellings of a warrior shone briefly while she and the undead traded blows. Her attacks aimed at what should be vital points. It tore into rusted armor and dried flesh and skin. Black fire followed after her sword as it bit those undead lucky to have dodged the first blow.

The knights were not impressed and continued their charges, thrusting, and hacking at her as wounds pilled over her flesh. The darkness she unconsciously gathered started to flood out of her body, the black fire increasing in power.

The brief shine of the warrior she once was died quickly as it was swallowed by the shadow and the light it cast by her heart. Dark fume-like flames exited her mouth, her heart burned bright with the darkness she devoured.

Her flame’s heart overflowed out of her chest. The flames hugged her body tightly, it crawled over her shoulder blades and hips. The fire fashioned itself like wings and she jumped backwards. Some spears and weapons were taken away and stuck in her frame. She spat the staff out of her mouth, grabbing it with her free hand.

Transient wings flapped in the air as the fire flooded out of her mouth. It channeled itself like a beam of dark light. She directed the beam of black flames at the ground. It cut and burned, but it was only the start.

Explosions happened soon after the laser, destroying the bodies of many undead. She moved her head wildly to move the laser through the horde of deceased knights. Trees burned and were thrown into the air, as the undead horde soon vanished.

The wings of fire vanished, and she dropped to the ground as fumes exited her body and mouth, her consciousness vanishing.

Hours later, a lonely girl found the traces of the battle, and dark scorched ground and trees.

She felt her consciousness awake. Her head was a mess— she did not remember what happened the last time she was awake. The ground was cold, and her body yet burned with a fever.

She struggled to get up and used her staff and sword as clutches. Her dragon heart burned inside her chest. She could feel someone at the edge of her senses. She hid after Dark Blade had shown signs of waking up.

“Wait! You! Please, help me! I am lost! Can you get closer, please? I am blind. I cannot see you, only feel you. I have been lost here for so long! Don’t leave me here, I beg you!” Dark Blade screamed, hoping that the girl would hear her, and help.

Surprisingly, she went out of hiding shyly. “You, want my help?” The girl asked weakly, as if not believing her ears.

“Yes… can you help me? I have been lost for so long…” Dark Blade was sick of those woods. She was sick of the undead and flesh abominations. “I beg you…”

“I… yes. I can help. I am… Morrigan, and you?”

A smile brightened Dark Blade’s face. She hoped the stranger could help her. She would trust this stranger for now. Her flames and her senses did not betray ill intention or evil in her pith. Rather, the stranger felt almost like kindred…

“I do not have a name, I think… but feel free to call me Dark Blade.”