Born Of Fire Chapter 59

                                    

                                          
Hey everyone. Sorry it took me so long to post, but I actually had a hard time with this chapter. I wrote it, didn't like it, rewrote it, still didn't like it, so I wrote it again. I would really like everyone's input on this one, to see what everyone thinks. 
                          

                          
100 votes, or one week, and I'll post again. Enjoy!!!!
                          

                          

                          
Phoenix took a step forward. “Better to die then than die now.”
                          

                          
“On someone else’s terms? I think not,” she spat, then plunged the dagger into her own neck, the blood spurting out in an arc of crimson. 
                          

                          
Phoenix lunged forward in an effort to stop her, but was too late. Her face went slack and her knees gave way, her body crumpling to the rooftop. Phoenix went to his knees beside her, putting pressure on the wound, and grabbing her wrist, seeking a pulse desperately. A faint, erratic, rhythm beat into his fingertips, in time with small spurts of blood pumping out of the assassin’s neck between the fingers on his other hand. Lindani pulled his hand away, and closed her eyes, using her control of the blood in the woman’s body to keep it from flowing. 
                          

                          
“I can keep the blood from coming out, but the wound is too deep,” she said to Phoenix, her eyes dark. “She is dying.”
                          

                          
Phoenix leaned his head closer to the assassin’s, whispering softly. “At least tell me why.”
                          

                          
The woman spoke, her voice grating. Phoenix could tell the knife had done some damage to her vocal cords. “His name was Batik.”
                          

                          
Spedro and Ember crowded in so they could listen. Spedro’s hulking shadow fell over her, showing dark circles under her eyes. “He was a Piaslo in Lanaro’s army. Every time Demetrius attacked, he fought valiantly. He would return to me each night after the battle, hold me in his arms, and whisper his love to me until the morning light broke through my curtains, then leave again before my father woke to find him in my bed. My father,” she spat, “was a general. Batik was under his command, and fought beside him, for him, constantly protecting him. One night, once a battle was finished, Batik climbed through my window. Under my covers and under my clothes he came, making me bite my cheek to keep quiet. Unfortunately, that was not enough.”
                          

                          
She coughed, and blood spurted from her neck once more, despite Lindani’s hold over it. “My father heard, and considering that I was to be married to one of the cities other generals, I could not be defiled. That’s what he said in the morning. That I had been defiled.” 
                          

                          
Clanking armor reached their ears, and Phoenix heard soldiers on the roof with them. Spedro moved to deal with them, sending them away. “He locked me in my room and went to battle, never telling Batik that he knew. I tried to send a message to him, but my father had placed me under guard, and I could not escape.
                          

                          
“The battle came and went, and the soldiers returned home through the gates. I looked from my window, but Batik was not among them. My father gave his armor to his family, saying he had died in the battle. During the funeral, I looked upon his body to see the wound that he had suffered. A jagged cut ran from his chest to his waist. A cut that only my father’s tooth edged sword could have made.”
                          

                          
The assassin’s eyes began to dim, and Phoenix searched once more for a pulse. Even weaker it beat against his finger, and the dying woman began to talk quickly, as though she knew she had not much time. “I called my father out, right then, before the pyre was lit to send Batik to the gods. Ahna ordered the man with the torch to halt, and he did. But a nod from my father was all it took for the man to throw the torch upon the pyre, burning all evidence of my father’s betrayal.”
                          

                          
Spedro returned and stood over her once more, and she concluded her tale. “Ahna ordered my father arrested, and I was glad to know that Batik would be avenged. But, all the officials, judges, and soldiers knew, and feared my father. So he was pronounced innocent before the trial even began. My father berated and beat me, then even raped me, saying if a lowly soldier could have me, then so could a general. 
                          

                          
“I begged for an audience with Ahna, and was granted one. I showed her the bruises, and pleaded my case, but she said there was nothing she could do. That my father held to much sway with the officials. He was the first I killed, three weeks later, to avenge my love. The judge was next, and then the man who threw the torch. I threw soldiers from the wall to make everyone think that the assassin had come from outside the city, and returned home each night with a smile on my face. Ahna was to be the last, but you four took from me my revenge.”
                          

                          
Lindani dipped her own head to the assassin’s, and whispered. “What is your name?”
                          

                          
The assassin coughed once more, and her eyes grew milky. “My name is, or rather was, Elle.”
                          

                          
“Elle, you have my word, you will be given a proper burial,” said Lindani.
                          

                          
“Next to my Batik, please? Allow me to be with him in death, considering that I was robbed of my life with him.”
                          

                          
Phoenix was next to speak. “Yes. As you wish Elle, you will be buried next to Batik.”
                          

                          
Elle nodded, and a wake smile crept onto her face. “I hope there is a life after this. Because if there is, I know my Batik awaits me.”
                          

                          
The assassin died then, her eyes closing, with the memory of her love leaving the smile frozen onto her delicate face. 
                          

                          
Phoenix rose and turned to see a tear falling from Ember’s eye. His eyes fell to the ground, and he spoke, his voice raspy. “We may have made a mistake. Yes, she was a criminal, but she was driven mad because of the actions of the leaders of this city. Leaders who do such things do not deserve to lead.” 
                          

                          
Ember nodded, and Lindani rose from her knees next to the dead woman, letting the blood she had held in flow from her neck. “She did not deserve to die like this.”
                          

                          
Spedro simply looked at Elle’s body, and Phoenix saw his shoulders shake. “Ember, please bear her body with a gentle wind. She may be wrong in her actions, but any of us may have done the same in her place.”
                          

                          
Ember nodded, sniffling, then wiped the tears from her eyes. She raised her hands slowly, and Elle’s clothes ruffled before her body began to rise from the tiled roof. The four turned, Elle’s body in the lead, Ember next, Phoenix, then Spedro and Lindani bringing up the rear.