Countdown to Battle: The March to Destiny

A Tale of Bloodlines, Betrayal, and Resolve

Part One

The Final Steps Toward Fate

The story ignites as Cinders and Red approach the castle, its spires slicing through the murky horizon like jagged teeth. Each step draws them closer to their shared destiny, though neither speaks of the weight they carry. The tension between them is palpable—an unspoken bond of trust, now fractured by fresh wounds and buried secrets.

They pause for breath, the silence broken only by the wind stirring dead leaves. Red’s backpack, seemingly empty, sags between them.

"Are you going to tell me what's in there?" Cinders demands, her voice sharp with exhaustion.

Red’s lips curl into the faintest smirk. Before she can answer, Cinders stiffens. A sound—a barely audible whisper of movement—steals her attention. She turns and sees them: three figures emerging from the shadows.

At first, they seem ordinary enough, but Cinders' gut tells her otherwise. Then it hits her—a memory buried so deep it feels like a whisper from childhood.

"You remember me carrying you out of the fire," one of the newcomers murmurs, their voice both haunting and familiar.

Red, for once, laughs openly. "Well, it seems my family has decided to join the crusade after all," she says, amused. The newcomers are not strangers but old allies, each with their own grudges against the king. Among them is E. Crimsonsteele, a woman who shares a complicated history with Red—and a secret no one dares to voice.

The Looming Castle

Red commands Cinders to "open her eyes." What Cinders sees makes her stomach churn. The castle, which moments ago loomed grand and impenetrable, now resembles an ornate anthill teeming with activity. Enemy forces, traitors, and spies move like currents around it.

The air crackles with the tension of impending war. No side is innocent, and no act of violence will come without its scars. Cinders begins to understand the true stakes—not just the fight for power, but the lives lost and the blood that will forever stain her hands.

Red, ever the strategist, considers releasing the warlock they’ve held captive. He’s dangerous, yes, but his hatred for the king might prove useful. There’s a rumor he could even be Cinders’ half-brother, cast aside in the king’s arrogance. She dismisses the idea, still unsure of how he might react.

Into the City

Disguises are abandoned; Red insists they stride openly into the city, her black velvet suit embroidered with silver catching every eye. She’s a beacon, a provocation, a trap. Her beauty and poise hide the lethal intentions beneath. As she marches towards the door, she is joined by Vander and Shadows. "The church has been cleared for the refugees" Shadows' informs Red. She's concerned about the scowl on Vander's face, as she notices the recent bruises on both which she tries to ignore. Explanations can wait. For now, they all need to focus.

Red commands both of them to join Cinders, while she obtains an invitation to spend the night as a guest of the castle. She's never met the King, but then again, she knows enough of the man. His not about to turn one of her kind away. A wise decision—though, in this case, the wrong one.

Red had planned to poison the king with the last drop of venom hidden in her ring. It’s a clean solution, she reasons—no more unnecessary bloodshed. But her darker thoughts linger on the queen, whose sharp tongue has dulled the king’s senses for years. “Perhaps she deserves the ravine,” Red mutters to herself, though she knows it will be Cinders who must ultimately decide their fates.

Shadows’ Guidance

Reunited with Shadows, Cinders is overjoyed—but Shadows’ purpose is clear. There is no time for sentimentality. Shadows hands Cinders a blueprint of the castle and outlines their plan. She warns her: mercy is a luxury they cannot afford. The king and his bastard son must die, or they will never stop hunting her.

Shadows’ words cut deeper than any blade. Cinders knows the truth of them, yet the weight of what she must do threatens to crush her resolve.

Part Two

In the early hours of the morning chaos erupts as planned. The dwarves and Cinders’ allies synchronize their attacks, creating just enough confusion for Cinders to slip into the castle. Every step forward is a trial, every heartbeat louder than the last.

The Castle Breach: A Symphony of Chaos

The assault begins under the cover of a moonless night. Red’s strategy is flawless: waves of chaos ripple through the castle grounds as allied forces strike at key locations. Fires erupt in the outer courtyards, sending plumes of smoke spiraling into the night sky. Cinders, cloaked in the shadows and armed with both steel and resolve, slips unnoticed through the labyrinthine corridors.

Every step feels like a lifetime. Around her, the battle crescendos—a symphony of clashing steel, battle cries, and the agonized wails of the wounded. But she hears none of it. Her focus is singular: the king.

The Confrontation

The king turns, "I see you have found a backbone after all…"

“I didn’t come for your insults,” Cinders replies, her voice steady despite the storm within her.

The king finally turns to face her, his expression a mask of arrogance and disdain. “No, you came for revenge. How... predictable.” He steps closer, his piercing gaze searching hers. “Do you truly believe you can kill your own father? That you can live with that burden?”

For a moment, the room is silent save for the crackling fire. Then Cinders speaks, her voice quiet but laced with steel.

“You stopped being my father the day you burned my mother alive. The day you cast me aside as if I were nothing. You made me what I am, and now you’ll pay the price.”

The king chuckles, a sound devoid of warmth. “You’re as naive as she was. Power isn’t given; it’s taken. And you don’t have the strength to take it from me.”

Part Three

The Duel

The king draws his sword—a gleaming blade etched with ancient runes. Without warning, he strikes, his movements unnervingly fast for a man of his age. Cinders blocks the blow, the force reverberating up her arm.

Their battle is brutal and unrelenting. The king fights with calculated precision, his strikes meant to overwhelm and humiliate. But Cinders matches him blow for blow, her agility and determination compensating for his experience.

“You’ve improved,” he sneers, “but you’re still a child playing at war.”

Cinders doesn’t respond. Instead, she focuses on his movements, the slight hesitation in his parries, the labored breath he tries to mask. She realizes his arrogance is not just in his words but in his overconfidence.

Seizing an opening, she disarms him with a swift, calculated maneuver. His sword clatters to the floor, and for the first time, she sees a flicker of fear in his eyes.

- Image credit: @HEX0H

The Killing Blow

The king stumbles back, crashing into a gilded table. Cinders advances, her blade steady and her gaze unwavering.

“You think this will make you strong?” he spits, his voice venomous. “Killing me won’t change who you are. You’ll always be nothing more than a shadow of my legacy.”

Cinders hesitates, the weight of his words clawing at her resolve. But then she remembers the faces of those he’s wronged, the lives destroyed by his greed and cruelty.

“This isn’t about strength,” she says, her voice calm. “It’s about justice.”

With a single, decisive thrust, she drives her blade into his chest. His eyes widen in shock, his breath hitching as blood stains his robe. He collapses to his knees, his once-powerful presence reduced to a fragile, gasping figure.

As he draws his last breath, he whispers, “You... will regret this...”

Cinders steps back, her hands trembling but her heart resolute. She watches as the light fades from his eyes, the weight of her actions settling over her like a heavy shroud.

Part Four

The Aftermath

The room is eerily silent. The fire’s glow flickers weakly, casting long shadows over the lifeless body of the king. Cinders exhales shakily, wiping her blade clean before sheathing it.

She doesn’t linger. There’s no time to dwell on the gravity of what she’s done. Outside, the battle rages on, and her allies depend on her to see this through.

As she descends the staircase, Red is waiting for her at the base, her expression unreadable.

“Is it done?” Red asks.

Cinders' nods in conformation, not trusting her own voice.

Finally, an end

Red, watching from the shadows, feels a pang of something unfamiliar—sympathy, perhaps? She knows the trauma of this night will shape Cinders forever, and she doubts she has the wisdom to guide her through it

New Beginnings

In the days that followed, a new story unfolded. A fractured people, long divided by strife, found unity once more. The princess who dared to rewrite her fate had not only reunited a nation but strengthened it.

With wisdom beyond her years, she served her people with grace, proving—both to herself and to those bound by distrust—that beauty and goodness still endured. Under her gentle reign, joy and laughter returned to every home.

Her story became legend—a whispered tale of a woman who defied her bloodline to forge her own destiny.

ƒin

Final reflection as the author:
As the old saying goes: “The sins of the fathers are rarely handed down to their daughters.” But Cinders proves that even when they are, a daughter can choose to break the cycle.

~ As written by Resigner Luth, Bounded by Blood, The Blood Battle (Part two) © January, 18, 2025.

🪝Please keep reading at https://resignerluth.space or https://ultraviolet.ink

Resigner 💜

#justmoveforward

Thanks Matt One for your masterpiece ;)

As always, the words and the art is mine, I extend my deepest gratitude to other creators for sharing their content🖤