As Aurelia’s sword struck down the last of her enemies, she let out a shaky breath and pulled her blade out.

She stumbled back as though it weighed more than her own body, but managed to steady herself. Aurelia lifted her hand up and watched at the blood trickled down the blade until it poured down over her glove-covered hand. It was still warm; Aurelia could tell even though she was wearing such thick gloves.

A soft whinny echoed from behind her and Aurelia turned around to see that Castor was walking up to her, his hoofbeats quiet against the ground. The grey horse reached his mistress and stood in front of her, whickering quietly. His long neck stretched out as Castor gently nudged Aurelia’s shoulder, knocking her back slightly. Aurelia looked into his eyes and saw what was in them. Pity, pain, agony. For her. For himself. For everyone that was involved in this war. The High Enchantress could feel the misery being emitted from the stallion as he scraped at the ground with his hoof, a grating noise reverberating into the air.

Then Aurelia looked past Castor and what she saw struck her right in the heart. Her own soldiers, injured and exhausted. One soldier had another’s arm around her shoulders as she helped him limp back to camp. Another was trying to haul an unconscious one onto the back of a bay horse. Aurelia looked around her as she began to shake. Dead bodies everywhere, most of their enemies, but also of their own side. The stench of blood and burning flesh invaded Aurelia’s senses and she once again looked at her own blade. Blood was completely covering her hand and was already beginning to dry up. Bile suddenly rushed up her throat as she stared down at her hand in horror and she swallowed it frantically, cringing at the taste. They had achieved victory, but at what cost?

The sword fell from her hand as she suddenly collapsed onto her knees, her hands flattened into the dirt. Aurelia was trembling violently as her eyes watered and she pressed her forehead into the ground. She could hear her allies speaking in panic tones as they saw the High Enchantress have a moment of weakness, but she blocked them out. “No more fighting.” She cried. “Please, no more. I don’t want to fight anymore. No more fighting.”

Castor leaned down to gently nuzzle at Aurelia’s messy hair as she sobbed on the battlefield.


I give all my condolences to the victims and their families of the Manchester attacks that had occurred recently. No one should have to go through that.

~Lorelei Lockladay~


2 thoughts on “No More Fighting (A sequel to ‘Carnage’)

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