Rough ideas for my work-in-progress novel ‘Wanderer.’
Evening broke across the plains, dying it orange. A large army marched forward in five columns, the sun behind their backs. Lengthening shadows were casted in front of them. Their black armor shimmered gold from when the sun penetrated the clouds. The warriors in the front carried shields and long pikes. Some carried bow and arrows. The rest carried a sword.
In the front, on armor-cladded war horses, rode fifteen men; two for each column, and five further beyond. These were the commanders, with the general in the middle. His black armor was varnished with red and gold colors. The general had a long beard and a pointed nose.
A figure on a warhorse crested the hill beyond the advancing army, sparsely clad in blue leather armor, a cloak, and straw hat. The figure glided through the plains towards the army. A scout spotted the figure and gave a warning call.
One of the commanders signaled to the archers. The general intervened.
“Not yet,” he calmly ordered, watching the lone rider with stern eyes.
“Sir?”
“I’ll amuse myself with what this maniac has to say before his death.”
“We’ve ceased negotiations well long ago, sir. He’s probably just scouting our numbers.”
The general scoffed. “This is a small nation we’re invading. Whether or not they know the size of our army, they can’t do anything to save themselves.”
“Very well, sir.”
“If he flees, then you have my permission to deal with him however you want.”
As he spoke those words, the figure leapt off the horse, half way from the army to whence it came. Without a single hesitation, the horse galloped back.
The figure began to stroll towards the army. The general noticed the figure had a long weapon on its back. An oddity for a scout.
Only until the figure unclipped the weapon did the general realize it was a lengthy sword, not a spear. The frontline men of the army raised their shields.
The general spoke first. “Why use a sword like that?”
The figure seemed to raise its head. A deep but feminine voice came out of the shadows of the straw hat.
“Hoh? Let me show you.”
In an instant, she started to dash forward, swiftly, her body close to the ground. The hat flew off to reveal her long, dark hair. The men quickly solidified formation in time, preparing their shields and pointing their pikes forward.
Just before contact, the figure leapt unnaturally high, past the forward formation, and into the midst of the army. A suicidal move, until she swung her sword for the first time.
The blade easily cleaved through the soldiers around her, slaying them before they had a chance to react. The men nearby, in shock, backed off.
She gracefully spun around and swung her sword down, out to her side; the general could see it was bathed with a malevolent, purple aura. Her eyes glowed with the same malice, staring straight back at the general, who had turned around on his horse.
“A witch,” he pronounced with disdain. “So the kingdom is indeed full of heretics.”
The woman got into a defensive pose, raising the sword up to her cheek and pointing it forward, towards the general. “This is the power I wield,” she disregarded his comments. “Conventional wisdom no longer applies to me anymore. With it, none of you would be able to touch me.”