Songs in the snow


Fledgling Freddie
Dec 23, 2003
I killed a Celt Blademaster in Odins tonight, and then I watched Enemy at the Gates. This (very) short story was the result.


The white sings a song of quiet. The echo of nothing thunders over the plain before her. Shanaia knows there is someone near. There were footprints in the otherwise perfect blanket of snow. The ones furthest from her start to fade under the ever falling snow but behind a tree not even 60 feet from Shanaia’s position they stopped. She had heard light, quick but powerful footsteps. They stopped before she found who was making them and where. He was still behind the tree.

Shanaia tries to control her breath. Something must have scared whoever is behind that tree and she was making sure she wouldn’t make any sound to make him wiser. Shanaia remembers her lessons and repeats to herself: “I am a stone, I will not move I will not tremble”. It helps her focus and her focus is on the tree. It’s a bad tree to get stuck behind, in the middle of a plain. A plain Shanaia chose specifically as anyone out on it would be vulnerable to her arrows. Shanaia checks the sun and realizes it would be dark soon. Most of the times darkness was her friend but now it might prove a one time enemy. She couldn’t move. Snow cracking would give her away just as it helped her find whoever was behind the tree.

A ball of snow flies trough the air hitting a tree about 15 feet to Shanaia’s left. She doesn’t take her eye of the tree and pulls the arrow back a little further. Another ball of snow hits, this time not even 2 feet from her head. Shanaia spots a strong looking Celt quickly hiding behind the tree again and pulls the arrow further back. A third ball flies and lands this time 10 feet to Shanaia’s right. “He’s looking for me… hasn’t a clue where I am” she realizes. Shanaia’s arm begins to burn slightly, she knows time has run out. Another ball travels trough the air and before it hits a tree Shanaia’s arrow pierces the Celts cold hand between the thumb and index finger.

He yells from the pain and runs toward Shanaia drawing 2 blades. Another arrow hits the Celt in the shoulder and the next in the thigh. Shanaia jumps up and leaves her bow on the floor. She holds her shield in front of her and draws her sword. She manages to block the Celts first attack but he is skilled and his second blade hits Shanaia’s side a couple of inches below her arm. But the damage to the Celt is done. Shanaia had blocked and she knew how to counter now. Both blades low to prepare for another swing the Celt didn’t anticipate Shanaia slamming into him shield first. He is obviously stunned by the unexpected move and Shanaia prepares another arrow and aims it for the Celts throat.

The red sings a song of death, the death of an enemy of Albion.

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