I knew her for three summers before she joined the Alliance. She took up her armor in her ten summered hands and placed it on her shoulders, took her helmet too and was gone the next morning. Her hair was a spring blonde and her skin was pasty and eyes were almost too blue. Lips of rose would smile at anything you would say, her teeth were crooked in the back and front, no one’s teeth in the village were straight anyway.
She swore herself a healer and a mage. We called her mad, we laughed at her, for magic had been truly dead for ten centuries since the Warlocks in the West had committed suicide. There was no arcane in our bones, no runic trees. Nothing strange. Except Ersa. Ersa was strange.
When she ran off to war, she promised great miracles and that was the only way she was even accepted to the Alliance ranks. I joined her, a year later, even though we barely knew each other. I followed her and believed in her.
I was no fool.
We first served together on the fronts of the Languished. It was beautiful, strange too. Almost like a dream. A constant and heavy flow of smoke floated through us as we marched, our steps were steady as the smoke turned to fog and finally, a thick darkness that clouded our vision and made us grow weary quickly. Ersa was quick to tire, her body was small. At only fourteen, she pushed forward an extra mile before finally requesting help. She didn’t cry, she just needed someone to take some weight off of her back. Our head lieutenant was not happy with this. He stopped the army and walked up to the girl half his size and swore at her, calling her all sorts of names and telling her that she did not belong. She watched him as he droned on, eyes lidded and teared. She cried that she was trying to keep up and as soon as she spoke, he slapped her hard against the cheek. Ersa did not fall to the ground, in fact, it was the exact opposite. She stood stone still in the midst of the angry flurry of gravel and dirt. He spit at her then walked forward to join the front ranks, who all watched this display. “Do not call me weak.” she whispered, her hands gently raising from the side and pushing a great force, unseen, above her body. It flickered and balled the great mass of dirt and smoke together and finally she dropped it, a great force pushing us all backward. “I am not- weak.” she said again, the horrified first ranks cried at this marvel.

We battled that day and she did as she promised, men all around us fell and she treated what she could. As only one person, she helped save many men that day. We had her help in clearing the winds and we marched home, bloody and victorious. The Alliance was funded by the Senate, who was funded by the Empire.
When Ersa and I finally turned 16, we were promoted to defenders of the Senate. She was still just as beautiful and as young. We graduated the Alliance’s school and went to the Senate together, yet she didn’t know my name. She slept a few cots over from me. No one messed with her, mostly because she practiced on straw dummies and they would show up incinerated on the training lawn. Ersa became sad sometimes, we could tell from how she walked and talked. I would watch her and somewhere, deep down, I knew that she was hurting. I finally confronted her. I was a bigger man now, bald and muscled from three years of service. I could smell the blood of rogues on my skin and suit, I stripped away a chestpiece and tore off my helmets. We had been sent to the forests to clear out bandits. Rogues were everywhere these days, pickpockets, thieves. It had been… unsuccessful to say the least. The rest of the knights carried in what seemed to be a corpse, flies nibbled at his open flesh- his body burned yet somehow, still cold. “The bandits.” one of the men whispered, settling him on the closest cot. “They- they burned ‘em!” cried the knight, who had seen much too much to handle and continue to be stable. The brutally marred body struggled for air, his lips were parted slightly, just to let in the softest tuffs of air. Ersa walked forward, her fingers pressed on his chest. She looked up at us all with big eyes, her lips in a pout. “I-I can save him!” she cried, a smile on her face. Her fingers pressed over his chest, the flies flew far away and suddenly the whole room was filled with a light that could’ve only been one of the Five touching us all. Her hands sunk into his chest, pressing deep and releasing another great beam, this one that touched the heavens and circled through the whole room, until the very sides of the room shook in fear of the immense power cycling through the air. It was like this for a few seconds, it seemed to last forever and finally she fell forward and the light disappeared.
The man was alive, not fully healed by more alive than what he was earlier. Ersa was not so lucky. Her light body had been completely drained and she looked extremely ill to say the least. Her fingers trembled at her knees and she asked for a small break so she could prepare to completely fix him. I told her no, that medics could assist and she wouldn't have to use so much energy healing a man who was already partially healed. She tried to stand and didn't fall but, simply went weak at her knees. I went to sit by her, my hand on her arm and told her that I appreciated what she did for the private and said that he will be transferred to a more safe environment. I explained what happened in detail, all the gory details too. She listened, weak and utterly exhausted from the miracle she had just performed.
It was still for the next few days at the camp. She kept a cloth on her head to keep her cool, walking around in gentle dress for armor was too much for her to carry. I kept a steady eye on her, watching and waiting. I knew the Empire would not be happy at the discovery of the little mage.
In that time, the Empire sent word to meet the girl. The Empress was a kind older woman, who had lost all of her family in the Mage attacks on the Southern side of the isles. Men who we're scouting the perimeter saw the flags of the empire and ran home as quickly as they could. They screamed and shouted and we all cleaned our armor and our little camp. Bloodied rags were burned, all the incinerated torsos hid in the basement, anything that could be considered strange we hid or destroyed. Ersa followed a few soldiers, looking for direction. I finally gave her the direction she needed, "Sit and hide in the basement." I ordered, "We can't let the Empire know of your existence."
"Why?" She wailed, her fingers pulling at her braid.
"They'll kill you. Now go!" She turned and ran, grabbing her armor and hiding it with all the other things that needed to be hid. I ordered all the men in a line and we watched with bated breath, knowing that soon we would have to face the Empress.
She emerged, finally and my men bowed to her carriage. Higher ranked officers would bow as the door opened, then run to get it for her and help her down the little white stairs. She was called Greta, for her family had come from the North. Empress Greta Zarzosh. She took long strides to greet us, looking us all over. After she had passed by, she smiled and stopped. "Where is your captain, men?"
I took a step forward. "Captain Rod Vershik of Village Port, reporting for duty."
"Village Port is kind in the summers. Are there any other people from Village Port?"
"No, my Holy Matron." I added, bowing my head. It was a lie, Ersa was from Village Port. I had not burned her documents at the camp. Empress Zarzosh smiled, took a step so her red nose was right at mine. Her breath was frail, her eyes were no longer gentle but furious, an old dragon stood before me.
"The girl." She whispered. I could feel the hot air from her lips. "Bring me the girl."
This was all useless now. I stepped back, bowed and went to find her. Ersa was sitting quietly in the corner, playing with her fingers and the end of her hair. I told her of the Empress' arrival. She sighed and stood, knowing well and good that this would be the last time I would see her.
I held her hand as we walked to the door. I could feel my hands shake and how sweaty they were. "You don't accept this fate." She said quietly as we walked to meet the Empress. "I understand but I can take care of myself." She whispered this. Looking at the carriage with long eyes. "I will be alright." This was assuring. The Empress walked toward us. Ersa stood very still.
"Ersa Curt." The old woman began. "I must see something." And without hesitation, our great and kind ruler fell to her knees and lifted up Ersa's skirt, feeling her left knee. I protested this, saying that was not right but Ersa grabbed my hand and mouthed for me to stop.
"This is my heir." The Empress smiled, standing up tall again. "My family was destroyed, not in full. My youngest daughter lived and was taken prisoner by the Warlocks in the West. They set her afire, but brought up her child. After they destroyed the land and killed themselves, you were found on the side of the road and taken to the closest village. Village Port."
I couldn't breathe. And from how tight Ersa was squeezing my hand, I knew she was unsure of this fate. I released her and took a knee. "Princess Ersa." I whispered, taken over by duty.
"Rise." The Empress laughed, taking the girl by the arm and walking her forward. "You will continue your work out here, Captain." Ersa looked back at me, a tear in the corner of her eye. She mouthed that she was sorry and was then lifted to the carriage doors.
I watched Ersa carefully as the carriage trotted down the cobblestone road. It bounced with every motion. Finally, it rolled out of sight. "Captain." A small voice came out of nowhere and my eyes rolled toward the direction of the voice. "Captain you are needed in the armory."
I sighed and stepped away from the road, nodding that I would be right in.