Blood Relation (CLOSED)

[Eris Coulson]

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Eris found herself doing...nothing. No training. No partying. No fighting. No duties or chores. She was simply seated, outside of her Bernese army gear and in a more casual outfit. Slacks and boots with no armour, a nice blouse her mother bought for her as a gift for surviving.

The rebellion was over, and it had been successful.

It was a strange feeling...a myriad of them really. Eris, at first, felt the hollow rush of victory. But when all the official announcements had been made, she swiftly found her victory cries drowned out by her fellow soldiers and countrymen. After all, they had truly cared for Bern. To them this was a dream come true. It wasn't nearly so monumental for Eris.

There had been drinking...too much of it. One of Eris' commanders bought her a mug for every noteworthy opponent she took out during the last skirmishes before she needed to be brought back for her injuries. Eris didn't too anything all that heroic, to her own chagrin, but she sure as hell put up a good fight for someone with her level of experience.

But then the parties died down. Celebrations slowed. The time came to truly put Bern back into order, for those who cared. For a soldier searching for glory, a painful realization dawned upon Eris. Her time had passed. Her moment to reach as high as possible was gone. When would the next great battle be? She supposedly had some small promotion coming her way, but so what? She needed to be at the top of the ladder, not a few steps up.

Eris sighed and brought her knees closer to her chest. The rebellion's end left her feeling hollow, but she had gotten what she sought. Her father had been rather pleased with her efforts, moreso than even Eris had suspected. He had ordered a full family dinner, inviting even Eris' mother as a guest and not a maid or servant, for the first time...ever.

The only issue was, of course, that her half-siblings and the Baron's wife were livid at the idea. The dinner had been delightfully hostile, with Eris and Cyrus nearly coming to blows by the dinner's end. Cyrus had been even worse than before since the war ended. His bad arm had been wounded yet again, and he had been forced to spend the last few battles in the infirmary, while Eris was still out fighting. No doubt that was what did it. Much as Eris hated to compare herself to him, she did know that he was after the same thing she was.

Glory and status...and she barely got any of it. Even if she got significantly more it wouldn't be enough. Eris needed to be like the Commander...well, Dragon General now.

Ugh, so many mixed feelings. She clenched her fists at thought of Ilheod. Respect, envy, and...something else. He started out so far above her, at least when they met, but now that she had climbed up a bit he was only further away.

Eris sighed and stood up, picking her spear up with her. Bern wasn't exactly stable yet. She may have been comfortable to go without armour but she would be a fool not to bring her lance, and this one was her pride and joy. A deep crimson shaft, with browns and golds alongside it. Tipped with silver steel. It was the gift her father had given her as a reward...one of the only gifts she'd ever received from him. It was light but strong and sturdy, far superior to any lance she'd wielded in the past.

“Of course I receive it now, in peace times.” Even looking at this gift there was a tinge of bitterness she could not ignore. It was to the point where even she was fed up with feeling this way, but what did she-

Footsteps. Heavy and fast, coming behind her. Eris whirled around, gripping her lance and holding it at the ready, but with a flash of silver she was left screaming.

[Eris Coulson]

Eris saw before she felt. Silver on a black background, flashing so close towards her. Then there was red. Red. Red red red RED. So much red, too much of it. Vibrant and...

Then the pain came. Eris swiftly planted a hand over her left eye and let loose a sharp, agonized scream. Gods it hurt so badly, greater than any pain she'd ever had before. She turned and stumbled forward, still clutching her lance in her right hand, before her body forced itself into “fight” mode. Had she not spent the past few years of her life in an army, training for war, and on the battlefield she likely would have run or fallen.

But she stood, blood gushing from her wound, lance pointed at her attacker.

“Y-you...” Eris half-snarled, half-grumbled. She had spoken through gritted teeth, her blood steadily running over her lips. Eris could taste it now, the metallic flavour as if she had bit the blade of a sword. It only fueled a growing rage, but nothing enraged her more than the man that stood but a few feet away, her blood glinting in the moonlight across his blade.

Cyrus. Her brother. Her comrade in arms. He was hunched over, breathing heavily, slowly stepping towards her. Gods, had he taken her eye? Was it gone forever? Why? “What the hell are you doing?! Argh, gods...gods damn it why!? Why Cyrus?!”

“Shut up!” Another flash of silver. Eris leaned back and swung her lance towards him, the shaft of her weapon clashing against his blade. For a brief moment Eris took her hand off her eye and tried to open it. Nothing but red...but at least she SAW red. The eye wasn't gone, thank the gods it wasn't gone.

But how close had he been?

“You're always talking, always spouting crap! Stupid, useless bastard!” He swung again, blade taking such a wild arc. He was close enough now to where Eris could see the madness in his eyes. They were so wide, like saucers, and fixated on her. No...no. Cyrus wasn't even looking at her. Through her, past her. Into his own world.

Such a wild swing would have been easy to avoid had Eris been in proper condition, but her depth perception was off. She pivoted only to hiss in pain, the blade slicing through the sleeve of her blouse and down her right arm. Damned, the one night she went completely without armour.

“What the hell are you talking about? You crazy asshole!” Eris was mad, angrier than she'd ever been. Yet this was not a fight she should be taking. Cyrus was...clearly not in his right state of mind. He hadn't been for some time, she knew. He should have been discharged, sent home, given help. She couldn't be fighting, injuring, a fellow soldier.

...And, even after everything, he WAS her brother, no?

Yet he simply screamed back at her words, any words of his own intelligible and lost, as he continued his aggressive advance. More and more wild swings came, but with each one Eris started to adjust to her depth perception. His sword couldn't shorten or grow longer, she merely had to re-ascertain just how long it was in the first place.

Eris cried out as she felt his blade cut across her belly.

If only it were as easy as that.

[Eris Coulson]

The fight was not looking good. Hell Eris didn't eve want this fight She continued to back away from Cyrus, her left hand shaking as more blood spilled onto it. Eris had already gained three open wounds from this. She was losing too much blood. Was Cyrus actually trying to kill her? As she kept herself just of the range of the relentless swings of his blade she could still see the look in his eyes. So wide and full of madness.

He really was, wasn't he?

He was trying to kill her.

Something inside of Eris set aflame at that solemn realization. She felt downcast, betrayed, even hurt when it first came to her. It just made her want to turn and run for her life. Not anymore. Fire shot through her veins, and she planted her feet on the ground.

No more running.

Cyrus had begun to tire himself. He was panting like a mad dog even as he brought his arm up for another swing. Rookie move, exposing his entire body like that. Eris dropped her left hand from her eye, revealing the bloody mess that she had been attempting to protect beneath it, and gripped her lance with both hands.

As Cyrus' sword came down Eris swung her lance across his chest, tearing his coat open and slashing him damn good. Blood spurted from the wound and Cyrus let out a scream of anger and pain. He stumbled backwards and Eris moved forwards, more than eager to press her advantage now.

“This is your chance Cyrus. You better f**k**g run!”

“You bitch!”

There was no point in communicating. Cyrus clutched his wound with his left hand and met a thrust from Eris' lance with his blade. Steel met steel a few more times, Eris pushing Cyrus back more and more, and a clang rang out for each time. Eris' grip was getting a bit shaky. Shock was starting to set in. The loss of blood was just too great.

But Cyrus continued to pant, his swings getting weaker with each passing moment. He had fought like an untrained moron, just swinging his sword like mad. As Eris kept pushing him back she could even smell the alcohol off him. Drunk, too.

Cyrus let out some deranged battle cry and lunged forward, looking to impale Eris with his blade. He was sluggish in his movements, obvious with his intentions, and even the injured Eris could pivot out of his way, leaving Cyrus stumbling instead. As he tried to regain his balance Eris tucked her shoulder in and slammed into his back, knocking her brother straight into the ground.

He hit the dirt face first, his sword clanging about as he dropped it. Cyrus groaned a bit and tried to make a mad scramble for his weapon, only for Eris to stomp down on his hand. A crack could be heard beneath her boot, and Cyrus screamed in pain.

“What the hell are you thinking?!” Eris met his scream with her one. Hers was of rage and a different pain. She brought her leg back before kicking Cyrus square in the face, hitting him right in the nose. More blood splattered over the ground as Cyrus rolled away from Eris, clutching his nose and grunting in pain.

“Were you actually trying to kill me?!” Eris was seething as she walked up to Cyrus. He planted a hand on the ground and attempted to push himself up, but Eris brought her foot down on his back hard, knocking him right back into the ground.

[Eris Coulson]

The fight was over as far as Eris was concerned. The altercation, however, was far from it. Cyrus needed to answer for this one way or another. Granted it was hard for him to do so from his position at that very moment, forced face down onto the ground with Eris' boot on his back, but Eris had a feeling that wasn't why he kept his silence. He was breathing very heavily, seething near constantly. So much rage...

“You may as well answer me.” She spoke coldly now. Oh there was fire in her as well. The kind that she usually couldn't restrain. However she barely managed to do so at the moment, the hand holding her lance was even trembling. But what was she going to do, kill him? Mutilate him? Neither of those ended well for her and...on some small level...she definitely did NOT want to do those.

“I don't have to say anything to you, bastard.” Cyrus spit out, quite literally. Some flecks of blood could be seen in his saliva, but Eris didn't feel much sympathy. She was still bleeding out more. Honestly she likely needed to herself to a medic soon. Or at least get her hands on some vulneraries. “So if you're going to kill me you may as well do it now.”

“Oh please!” Eris stomped down on Cyrus' back once more. “Don't give me that wyvern shite. You come at me, swinging like a gods damned madman, and now you give me the silent act?” She grit her teeth and took a very, very deep breath. “One last chance Cyrus. I'll write to father about this, and I'll report to our superiors as well.”

Which would be disastrous for Eris, because no doubt she would wind up getting discharged as well. There was no witness to back up her claim. But there was also no way she was going to walk around with these wounds, lying about how she got them, like some battered woman in a shitty relationship. It...it would genuinely pain her to think about getting discharged, but the real pain wouldn't settle in right away.

Unfortunately for Eris, that was not how events were going to play out.

“Eris? Cyrus?! What the hell!” A lighter male voice, yet it still sounded a touch like Cyrus, came out from behind Eris. She turned her head to glance over her shoulder, seeing her younger brother Alexander, staring in utter shock at her.

Before she could come up with any sort of reply Eris was forcefully reminded what manner of mistake she had made. Cyrus shot his arm towards Eris and gripped her ankle, the one not currently on his back, before pulling as hard as he could, simultaneously bucking his whole body. The movements threw Eris' balance off. She stumbled off of Cyrus and fell onto her back with a dull thud, grunting out her pain and shock.

Then she felt Cyrus' hands tighten around her throat. He had literally hurled himself atop her, now looking to choke the life out of Eris. She gurgled and struggled, trying desperately to gasp for air while instinctively attempting to pry Cyrus' hands from her throat.

“Die you bitch! You f**k**g bastard! You gods damned mistake! Just die!”

[Eris Coulson]

Eris' vision had begun to blur. Cyrus' face, twisted in rage, suddenly had all these whitish-gray stars popping up along it. The more she struggled to pry his hands from her throat the fuzzier and larger these stars got. Everything behind him was fading from her eyes. Alexander's screams and pleas were slowly drowned out by Eris' own heart beat, until that too faded away. The stars only grew larger, and the silence was deafening.

This was what dying felt like, wasn't it?

Her energy was beginning to fade as her feeble attempts at gasping for air through Cyrus' grip slowed down. One of her hands fell away from his and hit the ground. Eris could barely feel the grass beneath her hand. Instead what she felt was cold and hard...and round. Round.

There was no thought process. There was no grand revelation. No renewed desires or ideologies. It was purest instinct.

Eris gripped the hard round object in her palm and, with the energy she could spare, swung hand at Cyrus' temple palm first. The rock connected hard with Cyrus, blood dripping from where it had struck. Cyrus began to fall to the side, his eyes wide in shock, while his grip on Eris' throat loosened at last.

Eris took one massive gasp for air, sucking in as much as her lungs could take, and the world suddenly rushed back into existence. Alexander's voice. The night sky. The burning pain around her throat, on her eye, and throughout her cut up body. It nearly overwhelmed her, to the point where Eris felt the contents of her stomach bubble up to the base of her throat.

She rolled over onto her stomach, panting and gasping, before practically clawing at the grass and dirt. Scrambling to her feet, her eyes searched the ground for her spear while Cyrus groaned incoherently behind her.

“Eris...” Alexander called to her, eyes full of fear and uncertainty. The poor youngest Albrecht had no idea what do do.

Eris, however, knew exactly what to do.

“You...” Her voice was raspy now, forced and harsher than ever before. She stared down at Cyrus, who now held a hand to his temple just as Eris did to her eye. “You've gone completely f**k**g mad. I don't give a damn anymore. I'm bringing this to our superiors.”

Even if they cut her from the military too it didn't matter. Right now she just...she just wanted Cyrus to pay. Eris had just been closer to death than she ever imagined. Closer than she'd ever want to be again. Whatever feelings of mercy she had towards her clearly deranged brother were null compared to the pain in her eye. On her neck.

“Eris, wait.” Alexander approached her cautiously, but he winced when she turned her one-eyed glare on him. She must have been quite the scary sight. Hair wild, with dirt and grass in it. Blood drying beneath her wounded eye like blackish-red tears, and no doubt nasty bruises had begun to form around her neck.

“Get. Out. Of my. Way.” Eris half seethed, half spat in her to get the words out.

[Eris Coulson]

“Eris, please, let me escort you...both of you, to the healers back on site. I don't know if you're uh...if you're okay to go on your own.”

The night had been absolute hell and, frankly, Eris was more than ready to shut it down. No doubt she required medical attention like, pronto. The gash above her eye still throbbed, it pained her to breathe thanks to the damage that got dealt to her throat, and just about every other part of her suffered some degree of pain. Hell she was growing faint from the blood loss too, just to make things more interesting.

So yeah, she really wasn't down for Alexander to block her path like he was. It was too damned late for whatever concern for her he seemed to have. Way too damned late. “Wyvern shite...” She spat, balling her hands into fists so tight her arms trembled. “You're worried about me now? Then what the f**k were you doing while that psychopath was choking the life out of me?!” She didn't just scream, she downright shrieked.

Alexander just flinched at her, cowardly as ever. How he managed to become a half-decent soldier she'd never know, considering he was so damned timid around most people. Either way she wanted him to back down now. It was too late for him to do anything at this point. Even if he could Eris just didn't want him do. Screw it.

She walked...or rather staggered past him without casting a second glance back. Eris had relaxed her fists now but she was still seething, and the hand that carried her lance trembled all the same. The soldier...almost definitely soon-to-be-ex-soldier, rather, figured she could make the trip back. It wasn't too far, at least.

“Hah...” It was a rough, shaky laugh. Hoarse and weak. It almost sounded more like some strange cough, but Eris could tell the difference. It was Cyrus, mustering up some laughs about something. She didn't care anymore. Let the lunatic laugh.

“You...you were supposed to die, you know?”

Eris snorted at that comment. Yeah, she gathered that by now. Shame he was such a moron during his grand plan that he screwed it all to hell.

“Father told me. A bit after he announced your...legitimacy.” He spoke the last word as if it were acid on his tongue...but it was enough to get Eris to slow her walk to a halt. She really ought to just leave, keep going down the path and get this over with, yet now she was curious.

“He told me when your mother told him that she was pregnant that his first thought...hah hah...” Another hoarse chuckle. “His first thought was to push her down the f**k**g stairs.”

Something inside of Eris ignited. She'd been angry before. Hell she was already angry right before then. She had rage that made her say or do stupid things. Even if the action was correct, even if her intention was just, that fire inside her always made her go overboard. Too aggressive. Too loud. Too forceful.

This was different.

Eris whirled around and sprinted right past Alexander, shoving her shoulder into him when he went to reach for it in an attempt to stop her. She walked right up to Cyrus, who had just begun to sit up, and stomped down hard on his chest, driving him back onto the ground and causing him to wheeze. “What the hell did you just say?”

[Eris Coulson]

Eris ground her boot into Cyrus' chest just as she ground her teeth. The man still continued to let out a wheezing laugh of sorts, the kind of laugh that was dripping with malice and cruelty. Alexander called out to Eris and actually grew enough balls to walk over to her and attempt to pull her off of Cyrus, but Eris, in her fury, grabbed Alexander's arm and hurled him to the ground with as much might as she could muster.

“Go on then, you son of a bitch.” Eris stomped on Cyrus' chest again, glaring down on him. “Say that again.” Her mother was...a touchy subject. Eris hated being looked down upon and berated, but it was insults to her mother that drilled home the hardest. Threats to her mother were...things she could not tolerate. Things she would eliminate and defend her from. It was difficult at home because her eruptions of rage gave her a bad name, but that rage was the only manner she could get people to listen to her. Even if she was being objective, being logical, she was always the 'bastard girl' with nothing important to say.

“You heard me, bastard...” Cyrus spat out, meeting her glare with a wild grin, even as Eris drove the heel of her boot deeper into his chest.

Eris had, for better or worse, worked her ass off to climb to where she was then and there. With continued effort she could eventually rise higher and higher in the ranks of the army. She could become a Dragon General, just like Ilheod, and she would elevate House Albrecht to new heights with that position and power. Eris was willing to put in that work, she had the vision for it, and yet now...on top of everything else she had to deal with, Cyrus was telling her that she may have never been born. That her mother ought to have been killed before then.

Her father...he genuinely did consider that option, didn't he? Of course he did, the scum that he was. Who would care anyway, right? She was just a maid.

Eris' grip tightened around her lance once again, seething more than before. “Cyrus...I swear to God...”

“He should have done it to her. To both of you. Then none of us would have to deal with you. You've been an eyesore to our house ever since you were born!” Cyrus spat blood up at Eris, managing to get a few drops on her chin. “You f**k**g mistake! You gods damned mi-” What followed next was the most guttural sound imaginable. Cyrus' eyes widened as blood filled his throat and mouth, drowning him and spilling over the corners of his mouth.

“No! Cyrus!” Alexander screamed, staring at his brother's body in utter horror as it began to convulse weakly.

“You shouldn't have said that.” Eris replied bluntly, dangerously quiet. The head of her lance was embedded in the base of Cyrus' throat, her grip around it's shaft so tight that her whole body shook. No, it didn't just shake from that. It was the fury. The pain. Her eyes were wide, filled with all of the emotions swirling within her. Too many.

“You f**k**g mistake!”

“SHUT UP!” Eris roared, pulling her lance free and thrusting it into his chest over, and over, and over...it wasn't until Alexander got to his feet and charged at her, driven by sorrow and shock, that she was forced to abandon the spear. Alexander tackled her off of his body, attemping to pin her down.

“Why Eris? Why? He couldn't hurt you anymore, he-” He didn't stay atop her for long, however. Eris screamed and forced him onto his back, pinning him by throat as she stared into his eyes. Alex could gaze up and see the blood covering her wounded eye and...

“Don't you f**k**g lecture me. You think the same, don't you? All of you do.” And the tears from her other eye. “I swear to every God you can conjure up Alexander. If you speak another word. If you try to stop me. If...if you follow me then I swear to God you'll wind up just like him!”

It wasn't an empty threat. Her eyes were wild with so much emotion, Alexander couldn't even place what. It wasn't just rage anymore, and her tears were just as real as her blood. Without another word Eris forced herself to her feet. She tried to think, wanted to think, about what to do now, but now even her thoughts turned against her.

She gazed over at Cyrus' body, lifeless and bleeding out. He...he was the son of a Baron. He was a soldier. She'd be hanged, executed, if the military caught her. Oh gods what did she do? She couldn't return home, that wasn't an option. She...she had to run. Alexander was still on the ground, Cyrus was dead. Eris could get back to camp, grab what she could carry of her belongings, take a horse and ride it far, far away.

Out of Bern. She had to get out of Bern.

Eris began to jog, as best she could, down the dirt path, picking up her lance as she passed it. She kept going even through the pain racking her body, eventually tripping and falling face first into the ground beneath her.

More tears ran down her cheek, parallel with the blood on the other side of her face. She'd screwed it all up. All of that work, all of that effort. Becoming a Dragon General...no, that wasn't possible now. Nothing was. So long as she was in Bern she was a dead man. Her Father wouldn't protect her, not after she killed his first born child.

Ruined...she ruined everything.