You and What Army

Diana’s lungs burned and her legs ached down to the bone. But she was standing. She looked up into the cloudy sky and felt the last drops of rain crash against her dirt covered face. The rain would cease now. She felt a small stab of guilt at the knowledge that the country would be without rain until a new guardian was named. But it was for the best. Now, a new guardian could be named. King Henry never would have allowed that, never given up his power like that. And Prince Nicholas would have followed his father’s wishes to the letter.

Diana stared down at the dying king. How many people died for the sight she was witnessing now? How many people had accepted that it would never happen. She thought back to all the revolutionaries that had fled to Helena. She thought of the good men and women who looked her in the eye and told her it was hopeless. The king would never accept magic in his land. And they could stand alone against the king.

But from here, King Henry didn’t look like the blood-thirsty tyrant she knew him to be. He looked like William and Nicholas’ father. She saw their dark hair wet with blood when she looked at him. She saw William’s green eyes clouded in the dread of a final end. But she also knew that Nicholas’ hair was not dark anymore, his eyes would never light up again. He had died for his father, died for this weak man in front of her. William’s eyes would never light again either, though they stayed open. She remembered the day he gave up. The day he knew his father was inevitable. When he accepted his brother’s view of their god-like father.

Diana had never given up. She never fled to Helena. She never accepted a life of fear and hiding her magic. And now she was the one that King Henry accepted a dual with. She was the one that killed the Dark King of Garenforth.

“Please, please don’t leave me.” King Henry coughed and for a moment she thought her was talking to her. But the king’s eyes were focused behind her. She turned to follow his gaze and saw something she had hoped to never witness again.

Queen Joan had abandoned the revolution not long ago. She had been the last to leave Diana’s side. She had already lost a son to this. And now, as Diana watched her face twist with grief, she remembered that King Henry was still her husband.

“Stay with me, my love.” King Henry smiled and Diana saw his blood-stained teeth. “You said there was no where I could go that you would not follow. Now, I go to Hell. Will you still follow me?” The old man stuttered out his words as his body failed him. Diana felt her heart swell with grief for the man she had killed. But Queen Joan did not speak. She stepped silently towards her husband and knelt beside him before saying something that Diana could not quite hear. But the king’s eyes did not move from the spot behind Diana, and a moment later, she knew why.

“Henry Hart.” A familiar voice called out, and Diana watched a small smile grow on the dying man’s face. She turned to face the eagle spirit. He looked different now. His veil and robes were gone. In their place was polished armor covered with a sapphire blue cloak. For the first time ever, Diana could see the spirit’s face. He looked young, his freckled skin untouched by age. His eyes were a brilliant blue that put the color of his cloak to shame. He didn’t look like the ethereal spirit she knew. He looked like a boy, not much younger than her, not any older than her brother had been.

Diana looked back at the king and assigned him the name the spirit had called out. Henry Hart seemed too common for a king, and she supposed it was. But he had not always been the Dark King. He was once Henry Hart. He had once known the Eagle Spirit. Maybe when they were young like spirit would always be. Maybe Henry Hart was kind. Maybe Henry Hart wanted the best for the world and instead it took the Eagle Spirit from him. Maybe that didn’t matter. Because he wasn’t Henry Hart anymore. He was the man that sent her brother to his death. He was the man that murdered her husband. He was the man so unwavering in his own ruthlessness that she was the only remaining member of the revolution.

Looking at him now, Diana hoped that God was kind enough to forgive this man, and just enough to damn him.

The king took his final breath and the Eagle spirit dissipated. Diana knew instinctively that she would never see either of them again.

“I’m sorry,” Queen Joan said, her voice muddled with tears, “I’m sorry for not believing in you.” She looked down at her husband one last time and Diana watched a tear fall from her cheek and clink as it landed on the king’s armor. “He was a good man once; I wished in my heart that he would stay that way. But Garenforth is better for what you did today. Now we may heal.”

The queen led Diana away from the dual. She only noticed now that her hands were shaking. She looked up to the stands; crowds of people who had come to watch her die at the hands of their king. A final show for him to destroy any remaining hope in the resistance. But the king lay dead. Diana stood. The revolution stood in her. She may have been the last one fighting but that was all it took.

King Henry was dead. Prince William would take the throne, and Diana would be his Queen. That was what they agreed on. Who else would understand what they had been through. Who else would know what it was like to watch King Henry kill your true love

She looked up to the sky again, breathing in the smell of the freshly fallen rain. It smelled like victory.