Over the next few days, we had destroyed most of the Scarlet Crusade’s forces at Light’s Point, New Avalon, and the Scarlet Hold. The rest were scattered, hiding; too afraid to show their faces, lest death claim them, either for an unmarked grave or to join His army. We began to grow restless, waiting for our next assignment. We were a drawn arrow, quivering for release at a target. We wanted to kill.
We needed to kill.
Days stretched on, and many of us began to come apart at the seams. Tension was high, and minor arguments and personality clashes were coming to blows, most often with blades drawn. His power kept us from destroying each other completely: over time, even the worst wounds would heal, and as always, death was not a release for us. When new orders finally came, we were more than ready to act on them, especially given the nature of the target.
Light’s Hope Chapel, and with it, the Argent Dawn.
Our army formed up near Browman Mill, preparing to assault the Chapel with everything we could muster. All that time, He was urging us onward with promises of victory and power, and we were rabid for it. I couldn’t wait to make my first assault on the Chapel; I could feel something pulling at me, calling me in a way that He didn’t.
Commander Thalnor gave us the order to charge, and charge we did. Hundreds of us descended on Light’s Hope, the ground thundering under the hooves of Deathchargers, the sparse grasses dying from the churning of the ground as much as the aura of death that surrounded us all. Ahead, we could see the forces of the Argent Dawn mustering as quickly as they could, but we were unconcerned. We knew we would prevail.
The first line of riders swept through the defenders, chilling them with frozen auras, leaving them shivering and slow as the second line rode in and dismissed their chargers, meeting the Argent troops in melee combat. I was among those in the second line, and I screamed rage and hate against those who came to face me, cutting them down in search of that one thing tugging at me, like a string on my soul.
Halfway across the battlefield, I found out what was tugging at me. Vengeance.
I’d found her.