Angel of blood and ashes

As usual, not the artist but the commissioner! This magnificent piece of my character Aelys has been drawn by my dear friend SYoshiko and is posted here with her approval and blessing.


Original here:
Alternate version here:




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The man was still spewing insanities at her but his voice had dimmed to a low drone in the background. In the light of the afternoon, she could see the flickers of dust  in the air, a slow shower of golden particles dancing above the round cheek of the baby.
Carefully, so carefully, her hands slipped under the small body, picking him up from where he had landed. She was feeling dreadfully clumsy, inadequate, as if holding this small still warm bundle in her own hands, hands hardened in battle, hands that had always given death and never life, was somehow sacrilegious.
He had been round and plump like all babies are supposed to be and she briefly marvelled at the softness of his skin, a delicate silk under her fingers roughened and calloused by the sword.
Delicately she pushed back the wisp of downy hair that had slipped on his face, wincing as the tiny trail of blood that smeared over his lips, the only thing to mar the perfection of the little creature.
He would have looked asleep save for those few drops of blood.
He would have looked alive save for the grotesque angle his neck had made when she had seen him, tossed on the floor in such a way she hadn't understood at first what she had been looking at.
For a brief instant she had hoped. For a fraction of a moment she could have sworn she had seen the miniscule chest rise, the still warm body stir under her hand.
His neck had been broken, broken as you would break a rabbit's neck before tossing it away.
The drone of the man's voice was becoming more and more indistinct, replaced by the sound of screams and sobs.

She didn't even realise she was the one making those sounds.

She was holding the baby's body against her small chest, a chest that had never nurtured, never blossomed to carry on the gift of life, as she turned. The man saw her and started to crawl, trying to escape her despites his broken leg, hollering for help, for mercy, for pardon, calling out for the King's justice, a jumble of words she couldn't even hear.
Her grip on her sword, a grip that had loosened when she had kneeled to pick up the infant, hardened again, her joints blanching under the strain of the muscles.

There would be no mercy here tonight. There would be no pardon. The would be no justice.

There would only be ashes, and blood, and vengeance.

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Found wounded and tortured on the shores of Dendroa by Aeran and his brother, Aelys was nursed back to health but retain almost no memories of her past, only glimpses and images. To repay her debt to the country that saved her life, she entered the Keeshir Guard, the elite of the dendroan army along with Beeren and Aeran. She is small and frail looking but is very fast and precise, making a good soldier. She is also determined, almost to the point of fanatism and her previous ordeal had made her sometimes harsh and fast to anger. I wanted this piece to depict this, the dark part that is roaming under the surface, under the veneer of lotalty and blind obedience that has been hammered in her. No one knows what happened to her before she was found, not even her. But that day... She remembered something.

More informations on my world and characters can be found here: chendie.deviantart.com/

  Lessons of life part 1
"Are you entering or what?"
Rion was looking at her with amusement in his eyes, along with something else, comprehension maybe?
Kiddo took a deep inspiration to brace herself and stepped over the threshold of the house. It was not as if she hadn't crossed it several times already but today was different. Today she was alone.
"You look like you're entering a lion's den."
"Actually I entered a lion's den once." She saw the way Aelra was looking at her and felt the need to justify, smiling a self deprecating smile at the pretty young woman.
"I didn't do it on purpose, though. Some rogues from the Moors had managed to take up one of our outposts. I was the smallest so I climbed up and through a garret at night to sneak in. But I was careless and jumped in the middle of what I thought were the stables. There weren't horses in there, at least not live ones. The chief had bought somewhere two lions and had fed by hand since they were cubs and used to set them on his prisoners.."
"What happene


As usual, comments are more than welcome!



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Art SYoshiko
Character concept, text @ me spadiekitchenqueen