Music recommendation: A Song for The Sea by Colossal Trailer Music on Spotify.
"My brothers, victory draws near with the enemies at the end of our blades!" a demonic General bellowed—the horde of creatures lined at the ready before their opposing foes growling in contempt. Dark thundering clouds blackened the sky while the legion of angels floated on the other side in the air, their wings in flight.
Lyra stood motionless in the middle of the battlefield in her white nightgown. Returning to the same dream as the spectator, she felt powerless, with no choice but to bend to the whims of the scene before her. Looking up to the ridge, where the three archangels stood with their wings resting behind their back, she could feel the imposing aura radiating as they gave an ethereal glow from their armor. She felt eyes locked onto her from one of them, and fear trickled down her spine. She thought she was dreaming; no one should be able to see her. She gulped in anticipation of the battle to commence. The tension was thick in the air; she suffocated from it. She wanted to escape, but her feet remained rooted to the spot.
The horde of creatures broke out of formation to let their leader pass; black inky whisps ebb and flow around him, cloaking his entire body in darkness; he steps forward. Malice emanated from his form alone, she immediately looked back to see the figure stand regal in front of his army. Power oozed from his aura as unnatural shadows danced along his body, cloaking his face, but his burning red eyes remained with an eerie glow. Raising his hand from the shadows above his head, the creatures unsheathed their weapons, claws and fangs bared; everyone waiting on bated breath.
The figure slowly extends his arm forward, commencing the battle. Thunder clapped as lightning streaked across the sky. She panted, seeing the oncoming forces approaching her from both sides. Paralyzed, she shut her eyes tightly, her heart pounding in her chest. Feeling the burning gaze, she dreaded every moment of her life. She peeked only to find the figure standing before her despite the thundering clash of both forces colliding. She couldn't see clearly with the black wisps obscuring his face, his gaze looking down at her as she shuddered. This was a new progress as she never interacted in her dreams, let alone the figure interacting with her.
Breaking his gaze away, the man looked ahead of her. Curiously, what broke their stare, she turned around only to be met by the archangel. His large hand clamped around her throat. Wide-eyed, Lyra gasped, trying to scream, but the air escaped her lips. She felt her blood rushing to her head as she couldn't lift a finger to claw at the man before her. Why did this encounter replace the shadow of man to her instead?! She couldn't comprehend the reason for the switch.
Suddenly, feeling the overwhelming force from the archangel, he slammed Lyra down to the ground, forming a crater around them. She tasted blood from her lips as the warm liquid streamed down her face. Her vision began to blur as she tried to look back at the man, tightening his hold on her neck. Confused by everything, she tried to speak, but her voice gave out. Tears pooled in her blue, shimmering eyes. She looked back to see the face of the man who held her life concealed within his helmet. She could see a pair of golden eyes peering back at her contemptuously. 'Maybe this is meant to be,' Lyra thought. She was conceding to fate.
'No…. No! Please make it stop,' she voiced in her mind, fighting the will to live. Feeling excruciating pain in her chest, she closed her eyes in anguish, her teeth gnashing.
Lyra screams as she opens her eyes, abruptly sitting up and gasping for air. Her head throbbed as she tried to raise to rub it, only to realize the sound of chains clanking connected to her wrists. Confused, she looks around to find herself in a cage filled with other women. Small whimpers were heard when someone banged a metal rod against the cage's metal bars, shouting, "Quiet down in there, or I'll show you something to cry about!" The women flinched and cowered away. It was dark outside, and they were in the woods, and Lyra could see the sky slowly brighten red with dawn approaching. She felt a hand brush against her arm; she flinched, shrinking back to the bars behind her back, pulling her knees up to see a woman beside her trying to soothe her.
"Shh, it's alright. Just breathe. You need to calm down," the woman whispered, placing a hand beside her again, trying to calm Lyra and bring her nerves down. The woman, who looked older in the age of a mother, was covered in mud and streaks of blood across her cheek; she wore a small comforting smile, though the bags under her brown eyes showed a pained expression. She had short black hair ending at her shoulders and seemed dressed in her nightgown, stained with blood and dirt. Lyra took a deep, shaky breath before releasing it through her nose.
"Where are we? D-Do you know what's going on?" Lyra asked, lowering her quivering voice when the other women glared at her in warning. She tucked her chin down while clinging to her knees tightly.
The woman looked around before inching closer to Lyra and whispered, "I don't know where exactly. We've been riding for hours through the night. They captured all the women in the village and threw us in cages like this," Lyra grimaced as the woman explained what happened earlier in the night as the horses pulled the caravan on the road.
Lyra's mind drifted to the last moment of her grandfather, her hands still coated with his blood. Her heart sank, tears spilling from her eyes, trailing down her face. The ache behind her head was nothing compared to the sorrow she felt over the loss of her loved one. She sniffled and placed her head on her knees while her shoulders shook. The woman beside her wrapped her arm around Lyra, rubbing her back as a mother would comfort their daughter.
As the day passed and slowly drifted to dusk, whimpers and pitiful cries continued in the cages as the troops neared a river and decided to take a break to water the horses. The sinister men threatened and jabbed at the spoils of war, joking amongst themselves about which one of the ladies was a virgin or what they would taste like, drooling at the thought, all the poor maidens went white as a sheet with the predators stalking around the cages.
One of the leering men, a bulky, red-skinned demon with a bulging belly wearing a lopsided grin and a patch covering his eye, stalked towards the gate of the large cage. Wiping the drool from his chin with his arm, he warned the maidens to keep quiet earlier. Unlatching the lock on the door, it opened with a rusty screech, his eyes scanning over the frightened women and locked on to the sniveling woman curled in a ball, whimpering loudly. He scoffed, "I told you… I would show you something to cry about." Reaching in, he yanks at the arm of the woman who flailed about, tossing her out of the cage onto the ground, causing the men to roar in laughter. Her wrists and feet still shackled, she tried crawling away from the imposing, prominent figure. "Where do you think you're going?" he sneered, clutching at the long black hair. The woman shrieked in pain.
"N-No, please! I promise I'll be quiet!" the woman with pale blue eyes and olive skin cried. Only for her pleas to be ignored. Lyra saw the man drag her deeper into the woods, with her screams howling in the woods as a couple more men followed behind. Lyra could hear the demons cackle away while the woman pleaded for help, while grunts and growls could be heard.
After a while, silence hung in the air, and the three men eventually returned with a pair of shackles slung over one of the men's shoulders with a toothy grin on each of their faces. Lyra looked away in disgust. She saw everyone huddled closer together, praying not to be next. Her only escape was her thoughts as she reminisced about her home.
Regretting all the times she had argued with her grandfather and wished she could change her stubborn ways. Her eyes were swollen from crying, yet tears continued to form. She gave a silent prayer in her thoughts for the lives lost in her village, the loved ones they couldn't bury, and the many souls who lost their way. Clasping her hands together with her eyes closed, she prayed for her grandfather to be bathed in perpetual light and laid to rest in peace. She prayed for a miracle they would be saved.
Feeling eyes burn at the back of her head, she opened her eyes, looking over her shoulder through the rusted bars. With all the demons scuffling about tending the horses and others conversing with one another, she didn't notice anyone looking at her specifically until she saw a figure move behind a tree deep in the woods. She leaned closer to the bars, trying to make out what lurked back there, narrowing her gaze towards the brush.
CLAANKCH* she is jolted by the sudden bang by her face of the bars, shrinking back to see the lean man she comes to recognize to be the murderer of her grandfather. Her eyes glared at him.
"Careful little bird wouldn't want to pluck those pretty feathers too soon now, do we," he warned her, tilting his head to the side, revealing jagged, sharp teeth in a menacing smile. Lyra felt bile rising to her throat at the disgusting sight of him; she turned away from him, refusing to acknowledge his presence. He chuckled, leaving her be, as he returned to his station.
As he moved away, Lyra's mind raced with thoughts of escape. The demons, occupied with their vile activities, might present an opportunity. She scanned her surroundings, observing the demons' movements, the cages' layout, and the nearby woods.
A plan began to form in her mind. The chains that once confined her now became her weapon. With each careful movement, she tested the strength and flexibility of the chains. She looked around for weaknesses in the cage, weak points that could be exploited for a potential escape. The woman who comforted her earlier bore a worried expression. Lyra reassured her she was fine; the night had taken much from her, but it had also forged an unbreakable spirit—a spark of rebellion that refused to be extinguished.