Part 4

The Huntress who would be Heroine must find the witch leaders and slay them with a bow. In fact, the only opponent truly deserving of an Amazon's terrible archery skills are the witches. An Amazon Huntress is an opponent to fear - she has already mastered axe, sword, and hammer. But with witches as prey and a bow in her hand, she is beyond mastery, beyond combat, beyond the hunt. She is death.

After my Huntress Elevation ritual, my memory fails. I distinctly recall returning to camp, oiling my maul for storage, wrapping it carefully in waxcanvas, placing it in my chest, and removing the bow. I restrung it, knocked an arrow, and launched it into the midnight sky. I felt giddy, anxious, even eager to storm the gates of Hell that very moment. Laughing at my impetuousness, I prepared a quick meal, ate, and fell to sleep with restless visions of battle with my greatest foes.

I woke in the depths of Hell.

It pains me to speak of this. I vaguely recall pulling the entrails from Fangskin, the great gold viper, with my bare hands. The foul air was alive with electric energy - I suppose, though I'm not certain, the Vizier and his cabal stood in my way at some point. I have no clear memory of that entire morning until I heard that unholy voice.

I imagine my battle rage would have lasted until there was nothing left to kill. Indeed, after my encounter with Lazarus, I could see the bodies of over a hundred witches: hell spawns and soul burners. Nothing lived outside the priest's room. Sadly, I do not recall slaying Bloodlust, but I later found her body full of Amazon arrows.

Somehow, the priest woke me from my death trance. His voice seemed to come from everywhere, echoing in my mind, not my ears. I froze - looking around, I took in the carnage around me and tried to get my bearings. One of Lazarus' advocates nearly finished me with fire magic, but once I was oriented, there was little hope for him. Or his colleagues.

Witch bloodstars flew out of the blackness at me. Two, then two more, as I retreated to a favorable position. The power emanating from these creatures was awesome - Black Jade and Red Vex, I was certain. A Heroine at last! The Amazon spirit swelled within me as I felt the enemies close. I could almost keep both at bay as they turned the corner with alternate arrow shots, with a few magical counterattacks sneaking through my barrage. My superior position and the speed of my attack was simply too much. Lazarus and his two remaining hell spawns were equally unprepared. But I shudder to think of what would have happened if I hadn’t my wits about me. My strength has always been caution, wisdom, intelligence. What if I had rushed in?

Another glance around. How did I survive this?

By the Goddess, how did I get here?

Part 5

I retched. It wasn't the horror of the battlefield - I am no stranger to slaughter. It wasn't the seemingly human female appearance of the bodies. It wasn't the vast numbers of dead, the ichor, or the stench.

I knew not where I was! Out of control, possessed by some dark instinctual urge, or worse, I'd left my campsite, probably the moment dawn broke, and didn't think a single rational thought until hundreds of demons lay dead at my feet within the very depths of Hell. Where was my discipline? What of my honor? I felt as if a part of my soul was dead and I was sickened.

I slowly retraced my path - the trail of bodies was easy enough for even a male to follow. Not a single demon lived on three layers of Hell. I was terrified. What had I done?

I hadn’t survived the ordeal unscathed, so my first stop in town was with Tristram's healer. As I passed the fountain, the elder had some important revelations for me, but I barely heard them. My campsite, unsurprisingly, looked as if abandoned in a rush. I left my gear strewn about to find some solace in the forest.

Hours later I found myself at the foot of the large blackoak where I had performed each of my Elevations. A shred of hope came to me. Was this normal?

Imlatishan is relatively young in the ways of the Amazons, probably because of its distant setting. We have four tribes, but only two acting Matriarchs, one is Spellbinder. Two Heroines lead the other tribes, and a third Heroine serves as war commander. These are the only people in my world that could have possibly gone through what I had. If so, they had kept it secret by deliberate choice - most of these women are loud and boisterous, and would have turned an event like this into widespread ledgend.

Do Amazons rage against the witches?

If this was the case, why the secrecy? Was this common to all Amazons? I was suddenly countering myself with each thought. Why leave something such as this out of the Amazon training? Is this the true test of a Heroine? Why not embrace this rage, why instead teach discipline, control, and honor?

I was exhausted from debating with myself! I wanted nothing more than to strangle something. There would be no answers now, so far from home. And though I'd heard of Amazons from other nations aspiring to heights such as Princess and Queen, even higher, within Khanduras and even Tristram itself, I had never seen one, only common rogues and males. My questions were my own to ponder.

Pointless! Conjecture based upon assumptions! Questions leading to more questions that perhaps none could answer. I would not give in to fruitless inaction and decided to do the only thing I could: go on.

Elevation.

Part 6

Throughout the philosophical wrangling, I never once doubted my Heroine Elevation. Bloodlust alone would certainly have been enough, but with Black Jade and Red Vex and Lazarus, not to mention five score witches dead, no one would doubt my claim.

The rest of the day was spent in focused preparation. I rested briefly at dusk, then anxiously awaited the midnight star's ascent. My thoughts were of Imlatishan, and the glorious reception I had earned. Another Imlati Heroine! And it was Denari the slow! Denari the clumsy! Denari the weak! Now every young girl of the tribes would harbor desires of becoming an Amazon, for surely if Denari could do it …

It was the middle of the Moon of Harvest, so the northern midnight star was in the Huntress constellation, very auspicious. As it neared its zenith, I made my way to the old blackoak.

What follows is a verse late in the Heroine Elevation ritual.

Blood and heart of Amazon enemies slain
Those who were the first
Given up with humility, with reverence
And with remembrance

Of days gone, of nights old
Of women strong
Of peace and abundance
Of wicked evil come

Victory was ours
Though high was the toll
The lesson of aggression
Survive, teach, grow, avenge

I have avenged
Away the axe
Away the blade
Away the maul

I have avenged
With these arrows
Straight of shaft
Light of fletch

I have avenged
With this bow
Strung for battle
Earned in battle

I have …

I choked on the words. Words I had known by heart since I was seven. I had overcome insurmountable odds from the day I lifted my first blade with the sole purpose of saying these words aloud. Words I was born to say. I slowly looked to the weapon in my hands.

'Earned in battle,' barely a whisper.

I had no idea how I got this bow.

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