| SORCEROUS SIGNALS |
| Written by Silvia Hiven / Artwork by Holly Eddy |
| Creep Forward Soldier |
I may have been born a simple peasant, but from the
moment I handled a blade, I knew I was fated for
greatness.
Any weapon I was given, I mastered. Any opponent I
faced, I defeated with ease. A grand destiny awaited
me, my trainers told me, and I believed them.
On the morning of my first battle, I was eager to prove
my worth.
Our enemy army, their banners snapping in the wind,
waited across the field. Their forces stretched along the
hill like an impenetrable wall; black shields and
breast-plates captured the sunlight and reflected the
golden rays like javelins into my eyes.
At the imposing sight, lined up with countless others
clad in identical armor and carrying the same simple
swords, truth struck me. My breastplate was cheap
compared to the elaborate armor of the knights behind
me. The poor craftsmanship of my sword could never
be made up for by courage alone. I was nothing special.
My fellow fighters and I were equally ill-fated: foot
soldiers, meant to push ahead, battle bravely and die.
I trembled, ice-cold fear curling around my heart.
The soldier next to me shuddered. “No matter what
you do, beware of the black witch,” he whispered.
“The black witch?”
“Yes. They may call her a queen, but she is no ordinary woman. She has gifts most unnatural, and she
has killed many of our kind. Don't let her beauty fool you.”
Horns sounded from somewhere behind us. The soldier next to me unsheathed his sword and took a
step forward. The battle had begun.
My fellow foot soldiers and I moved across the field. The enemy did not hold back; black knights galloped
across the field towards us, brandishing their blades with relentless precision. Around me my comrades
fell, one after the other.
Through the battle haze, I saw flashes of the black witch. Her dark braids streamed behind her as she
dashed across the field, freezing her opponents in their steps with her beauty and slicing them to the
ground with ruthless grace. It was a lethal dance as fair as it was terrible. Despite the nausea I felt at the
sight of my comrades' blood smeared on her spear and the front of her dress, I could not avert my eyes
from her.
As if she sensed my gaze upon her face, the witch stopped her movements and turned in my direction.
Her black eyes chilled me to my bones. A wicked snarl twisted across her face. I knew she wanted me.
The soldier who had warned me earlier feel to his knees beside me, blood spilling scarlet from his
wounds. “Don't let her have you,” he uttered. “Go to the back of their lines. Find their commander. If he
dies, it is all over.”
“I cannot push beyond their defenses,” I protested. “I am no knight.”
“Perhaps you do not have to be. Maybe today, the smallest of warriors will triumph, should he be brave
enough to try.”
He pushed the words out with great effort, then collapsed onto the ground. The terror in his eyes glazed
over. He was gone.
When I looked up, I saw he had left me alone.
Bodies lay strewn about the field. Both armies were represented: our ivory armor, their sable steel, but
all of them were simple soldiers like myself. It was a senseless massacre.
The sight of my fallen comrades angered me. They were just pawns to my commanders, meant for
sacrifice to benefit the stout knights on their horses, and to keep safe the cowardly priests and beguilers
hiding behind the defenses. But to me, the bloodied faces were familiar: brothers and sisters. They were
me, all of them. And they deserved justice.
Drained of all fear, I crept straight on, aiming toward the commanding forces of the enemy. I could see
the gilded edges of their shields glisten in the sun. Shinier than all things gleaming was the crown of their
king. Surrounded by his knights and priests, he stood at the edge of the battlefield, looking out over the
mayhem with a haughty gaze. Hate filled me. I knew he was my purpose.
Then, from nowhere, she appeared.
Up close, she was more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. Blackness possessed every aspect of
her: her eyes were sable marbles, her ebony skin shone and her dark down fluttered about her in the
battle breeze. Even her voice was like black velvet.
“You have come far, young one,” she spoke. “But you will go no further. My lord and king will not be
harmed by the likes of you.”
I was so close. A few more steps and he would be within my reach. I felt courage surge, drawn out from
a strange force reaching for me just a few steps away.
Creep forward, soldier, the force beckoned. Show me your bravery, and I will reward you for your
courage.
The mysterious power flooded my veins with purpose. “You will not stand in my way,” I hissed to the
black witch.
I took the last few steps. The power that waited for me there, in the very home of the enemy, rose from
the ground. It wrapped around me; bright white light twisted and turned. It blazed through my soul, and
for a moment, I died.
When I returned to life, I was changed. My armor was gone, as was my blade. Instead, I wore a gown
white as snow, and a crown of diamonds was fastened across my brow. The witch stared at me in awe. I
was her twin, but instead of dark and severe like she, I was pure.
“What wicked magic is this?” she cried.
“It is not magic.” My new power swelled inside of me, shimmering and dancing. “I was destined for
greatness, and I have claimed it. These are the rules of the game, my Black Queen. So let us play.”
moment I handled a blade, I knew I was fated for
greatness.
Any weapon I was given, I mastered. Any opponent I
faced, I defeated with ease. A grand destiny awaited
me, my trainers told me, and I believed them.
On the morning of my first battle, I was eager to prove
my worth.
Our enemy army, their banners snapping in the wind,
waited across the field. Their forces stretched along the
hill like an impenetrable wall; black shields and
breast-plates captured the sunlight and reflected the
golden rays like javelins into my eyes.
At the imposing sight, lined up with countless others
clad in identical armor and carrying the same simple
swords, truth struck me. My breastplate was cheap
compared to the elaborate armor of the knights behind
me. The poor craftsmanship of my sword could never
be made up for by courage alone. I was nothing special.
My fellow fighters and I were equally ill-fated: foot
soldiers, meant to push ahead, battle bravely and die.
I trembled, ice-cold fear curling around my heart.
The soldier next to me shuddered. “No matter what
you do, beware of the black witch,” he whispered.
“The black witch?”
“Yes. They may call her a queen, but she is no ordinary woman. She has gifts most unnatural, and she
has killed many of our kind. Don't let her beauty fool you.”
Horns sounded from somewhere behind us. The soldier next to me unsheathed his sword and took a
step forward. The battle had begun.
My fellow foot soldiers and I moved across the field. The enemy did not hold back; black knights galloped
across the field towards us, brandishing their blades with relentless precision. Around me my comrades
fell, one after the other.
Through the battle haze, I saw flashes of the black witch. Her dark braids streamed behind her as she
dashed across the field, freezing her opponents in their steps with her beauty and slicing them to the
ground with ruthless grace. It was a lethal dance as fair as it was terrible. Despite the nausea I felt at the
sight of my comrades' blood smeared on her spear and the front of her dress, I could not avert my eyes
from her.
As if she sensed my gaze upon her face, the witch stopped her movements and turned in my direction.
Her black eyes chilled me to my bones. A wicked snarl twisted across her face. I knew she wanted me.
The soldier who had warned me earlier feel to his knees beside me, blood spilling scarlet from his
wounds. “Don't let her have you,” he uttered. “Go to the back of their lines. Find their commander. If he
dies, it is all over.”
“I cannot push beyond their defenses,” I protested. “I am no knight.”
“Perhaps you do not have to be. Maybe today, the smallest of warriors will triumph, should he be brave
enough to try.”
He pushed the words out with great effort, then collapsed onto the ground. The terror in his eyes glazed
over. He was gone.
When I looked up, I saw he had left me alone.
Bodies lay strewn about the field. Both armies were represented: our ivory armor, their sable steel, but
all of them were simple soldiers like myself. It was a senseless massacre.
The sight of my fallen comrades angered me. They were just pawns to my commanders, meant for
sacrifice to benefit the stout knights on their horses, and to keep safe the cowardly priests and beguilers
hiding behind the defenses. But to me, the bloodied faces were familiar: brothers and sisters. They were
me, all of them. And they deserved justice.
Drained of all fear, I crept straight on, aiming toward the commanding forces of the enemy. I could see
the gilded edges of their shields glisten in the sun. Shinier than all things gleaming was the crown of their
king. Surrounded by his knights and priests, he stood at the edge of the battlefield, looking out over the
mayhem with a haughty gaze. Hate filled me. I knew he was my purpose.
Then, from nowhere, she appeared.
Up close, she was more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. Blackness possessed every aspect of
her: her eyes were sable marbles, her ebony skin shone and her dark down fluttered about her in the
battle breeze. Even her voice was like black velvet.
“You have come far, young one,” she spoke. “But you will go no further. My lord and king will not be
harmed by the likes of you.”
I was so close. A few more steps and he would be within my reach. I felt courage surge, drawn out from
a strange force reaching for me just a few steps away.
Creep forward, soldier, the force beckoned. Show me your bravery, and I will reward you for your
courage.
The mysterious power flooded my veins with purpose. “You will not stand in my way,” I hissed to the
black witch.
I took the last few steps. The power that waited for me there, in the very home of the enemy, rose from
the ground. It wrapped around me; bright white light twisted and turned. It blazed through my soul, and
for a moment, I died.
When I returned to life, I was changed. My armor was gone, as was my blade. Instead, I wore a gown
white as snow, and a crown of diamonds was fastened across my brow. The witch stared at me in awe. I
was her twin, but instead of dark and severe like she, I was pure.
“What wicked magic is this?” she cried.
“It is not magic.” My new power swelled inside of me, shimmering and dancing. “I was destined for
greatness, and I have claimed it. These are the rules of the game, my Black Queen. So let us play.”
| Make A Donation |
Sylvia Hiven's fiction has appeared in publications such as Daily Science
Fiction, PseudoPod, Flash Me Magazine, and others. She also edits the
speculative fiction e-zine LingerFiction.
Fiction, PseudoPod, Flash Me Magazine, and others. She also edits the
speculative fiction e-zine LingerFiction.
