Amaranth Games - Arrow Vs. Sword

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Arrow Vs. Sword
By: MichelleTeomes [More of my stuff] (2010/12/27 23:35)
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A/N: !ATTENTION! This fanfiction contains spoilers for Aveyond: The Darkthrop Prophecy. Also, while trying to make my ending poignant and sad, it is also misleading. Keep that in mind. Though you can take it either why, I don’t mind. Interpret in however you want. I had been playing around with this retelling of the second to last battle in Aveyond:3 as soon as I encountered it, so yeah, just like my first Aveyond fanfic, I apologize for once again reading quite deeply into Galahad’s and Te’ijal’s relationship, but this is my favourite Aveyond pairing, so just bear with me on that one. This is like the release of my inner crazy fangirl, so please, enjoy! Review, and if you want to see more, I’ll keep writing. I already have new ideas for fanfics that I can’t wait to get started on, but first, I need to go to sleep.... I’ve been writing nonstop for quite some time now, so I hope you like the end product.

Arrow Vs. Sword.
So this is what it comes to, Te’ijal thought, bow in hand, quiver drawn to pierce the heart of the man she loved. He stared at her with glassy eyes, emotionless. His posture spoke of casual indifference, as he held his sword stained with her blood. The man‘s face bore no inclination of any feelings he may have once had for her, he was driven to hurt her, to draw her blood. He was determined to kill her.
Te’ijal watched him with her violet eyes dilated in fear. After 300 years of hating her, cursing her, and trying to run from her, Te’ijal still never imagined it would be he that would end her existence. Until this point Te’ijal could have sworn that he was beginning to feel something for her, she had watched his eyes begin to follow her with a tenderness that ignited human emotions in her long dormant heart. He had cared for her, she was sure of it, perhaps he had even loved her, and yet, here they were.
The man with the formerly beautiful blue eyes, now dull and lifeless lifted his sword. For the first time in over 800 years, Te’ijal knew, she was going to die.
He hadn’t always been like this. The man was kind-hearted and noble; compassion ruled his life and morals dictated his actions. Te’ijal had loved the man, and turned him into a vampire to be with her forever. But he had not wanted her gift, and for 300 years he had resented her very existence. But she knew the truth.
He hated her because he loved her.
It was in his nature to destroy creatures of darkness and evil, and while he cursed Te’ijal into the blackest pits of hell, for condemning him to damnation as the very type of being he swore to destroy, it was because he loved her. He could never love that which he hated, but try as he might, he could not crush the feelings he had for her as easily as he could crush her throat now.
Fortune had smiled on the man however, as fate delivered both him and Te’ijal back into the land of the living, as mortal, vulnerable humans. He welcomed this change with overwhelming ecstasy, while she cried for her past life and hated everything about being human. Once human again, the man looked at his all too human companion with a new feeling of awe. He began to notice the grace with which she held herself, and the beauty in the air that surrounded her. Te’ijal looked at the man through the same eyes, though no longer red, through them she still saw the man with fondness.
They settled in a quaint village together, and began a new life. While she hated having to learn to cook, and retrain herself in combat, she saw the man, glowing in delight and wonderment as he contemplated the remains of his human life, with her by his side, and knew that there was no one she would rather be human with.
The couple grew closer, and sleep each night in each other arms. How then, Te’ijal wondered, did we get here now?
Try as she might, Te’ijal could not look at the man before her with hatred. As he brought down his sword on her exposed skin again, she blinked back tears, but knew that she would love him for as long as she breathed on this earth, and even then, she would still love him.
The skin of her forearm burned red in protest, the wound screamed in agony as her scarlet blood escaped her veins. The man’s sword glinted in the torch light, demonic flame reflected on the metals edge. His mouth was without inflection, while he could not smile, he would not frown either. This empty shell was without emotion, without sympathy, without a shred of love for the bleeding woman beneath him.
Te’ijal felt one hot tear slide down her cheek, though not from the pain of her injuries. She lifted her head to the man standing above her, and watched as he slid one elegant finger up his blade edge, collecting a large scarlet drop of her blood. Unfalteringly, he raised his finger to his mouth and savoured the darkest of forbidden fruits. Te’ijal whimpered in shock, and watched as a scarlet drop rolled down the side of the man’s mouth, leaving a streak of red against his pallid skin. Another tear escaped down her cheek. This was not the man she loved.
“Galahad...” she whispered, begging.
“Where are you?”
Te’ijal suffered at the hands of illness as a human, but Galahad was there to nurse her. She had cried in agony while her voice grew hoarse and her skin flamed up. Her limbs grew weak, and she remained bedridden, while he had lovingly treated her with a careful dedication. He had stroked her face with such a burning passion in his moon blue eyes, and kissed her temperate human cheek. Te’ijal had gazed at him in amazement as he brushed back her fiery red hair with affection. He left a sweet kiss on her forehead and whispered to her that nothing would ever hurt her while he was around.
Now, the pain from her brief bout of human illness paled in comparison to the constantly intensifying torture of his blows.
Te’ijal looked into the face of women who stood alongside her former partner. Her name was Mel, and her face was set in grim acceptance, as lifeless and empty as Galahad’s. Mel and Galahad were former friends and allies, they were among Te’ijal’s only family, and yet there they were, standing against her, Edward and Stella.
Te’ijal was once a hunter, a predator of the night. She viewed all humans as below her, puppets for her to play with. Somehow, though, when she learned the street child Mel was in danger from her brother Gyendal, even though she did not know the girl, she felt she needed to save her. Te’ijal had grown an attachment to the young rabbit, but looking into the eyes of her human friend, she did not see recognition, or a return of her affections, she saw naught but remote desolation.
Galahad and Mel were gone. Shadows inhabited their bodies and darkness blackened their souls. Could they be saved? Te’ijal did not know if they were already too late to rid their friend’s hearts of the evil that had taken over, and to do so, they first had to incapacitate the bodies that had been Te’ijal’s closest link to humanity. Te’ijal’s conflicting emotions were dominating her drive to hurt her dearest companions.
Galahad would be the hardest, Te’ijal knew. She could not hurt him. She would sooner drive an arrow through her own heart than his, no matter how twisted he was inside.
Galahad lifted his sword again, and brought it down on the gentle Nylithian, Stella, beside her. Stella dropped to the ground without uttering a single cry; her blood spattered the ground around Te’ijal’s feet. The quickly reddening stone floor reflected flames and chaos.
Te’ijal glanced at the dark-skinned healer, unconscious by her husband’s hand, and watched as Edward Pendragon aimed his sword for Galahads heart.
“No!” She cried, throwing an arm up between Edward and Galahad.
“I cannot let you hurt him” She spoke to both of them. While Galahad remained silent and uncaring, Edward growled in resentment from being denied compensation for Stella’s blood.
“You side with them!” He shrieked, pointing his sword at Te’ijal’s throat.
“How can you side with them? W e must destroy the demon possessing their souls before we lose them forever! I don’t want to strike them as much as you don’t, but if you don’t move Te’ijal, I swear to the Goddess I will cut you down myself so I can save them!”
Tears flowed freely from the prince’s leaf green eyes, and he cast a quick glance at the possessed woman beside Galahad.
“I love her, Te’ijal.” He wept.
“I won’t lose her.”
“And I love him.” She cried to the young man-child beside her.
“I won’t let you hurt him”
“But if It can save him....” Edward began.
Te’ijal sucked in a deep unsatisfying breathe. She turned from the prince to face the expressionless moon-blue eyes that harboured none of the familiar tenderness and light. Te’ijal would have even preferred to see hatred in them, the bitterness that she lived with after giving him new life. Anything but the barren emptiness that resided in them now.
“Galahad” she pleaded to him.
“Galahad please listen to me....” He continued to stare at her with those eyes that were not his, that portrayed a thousand deaths and the subsequent bleakness. His gaze travelled through her, and into the walls behind her. He barely even saw her.
He is gone. Te’ijal thought, overcome by the loss of the man she had loved for 800 years. There is no shred of him left in this lifeless shell. Galahads warmth and glory, his compassion and virtue, his unwavering loyalty and his loving passion- gone. Perhaps even gone, forever.
Te’ijal looked over at Edward, crying as he fought back against the woman he loved, intent on destroying him, and faced again her Galahad,
“Please” She repeated, despair coursing through her veins as she lifted her strung bow and aimed it at the heart of the solitary figure before her. “Please forgive me.”
She no longer attempted to restrain her tears as the man once again raised his sword in a two handed swing, perfectly exposing his un-armoured chest, covered only by thin, easily penetrable cloth.
“Galahad I love you”
And she let go of the quiver.

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