The Battle Of The Clockwork Armies

by Henred5

W/n: Where was I when I got this idea? I hoped to make it longer, but I didn’t have the time.

Clockwork toys were one thing, but an army of clockwork belly dancers were completely new to the young spy. She hadn’t anticipated having to become a clockwork belly dancer, but by the time she heard about the head enchantress’s plans she had no other choice but to do what she did best, dress up and act. Become something else. After all, why else did she become a spy in the first place?

The day didn’t start of fantastically. Then again having to walk around with a metal winder clasped around your chest isn’t exactly what you’d have in mind.

The buckle that kept the whole ridicules mechanical piece on had to be covered in ridiculously girly beads and fabrics. Everything had to pink, much to Colette’s disgust. “I’m a spy, not some pink fairy,” she thought as a fellow spy fitted the contraption around her chest.

He smirked, “and to think you actually look pretty for a change.” He pecked her on the cheeks, “for good luck.” Smiling his sweetly charming smile that could melt metal.

The two spies conversed in mental thoughts for minutes as he helped her get ready. He handed her the ridiculous belly dancer outfit and she slipped it on over her dark brown clothes.

“I don’t see why you don’t have to do this too, you are after all my colleague.”

“Ooo, being posh now are we.”

“That’s not being posh!” She snapped mentally, “thats just being professional. Besides, what if I don’t find this princess? What if she refuses to come with the group?”

“Chill girl.” He slipped on a small bangle on one of her wrists, “chill,” he repeated.

She nodded nervously. “If I don’t come back…” Still she continued in the mental speech.

“You will.” He smiled again, this time it was genuine.

She shook her head, “if I don’t come back you and her lady the enchantress will need a plan.”

He nodded, “we have one.”

She took a seat by the mirror and stared at it wondrously, “so this princess who’ll save the world, will she be bratty and wilful, or will she be clever and witty?”

“Colette, we can’t be responsible for the princesses actions, we just do what we’re told.”

“Well I suppose I never did like royalty.”

The eye patch over his left eye covered the swelling and scarring from a little fight with one of the famous Dogs of Death. On one ear hung a small plain golden earring, though really it was am mini transmitter, she would be able to communicate through her own studs to him through his single ear ring. He wore black fingerless gloves and by his side, sat in a holster ready for battle, was a gun.

Her own hair was cropped short too, normally her short hair was black with thin and permanent red streaks running through it, but now she had to wear a wig of full black hair. Her frame was quite small compared to her partner; it would look like he was her bodyguard. But really she could easily throw him over her shoulder, even land a few kicks to his ribs. They were equally matched in ability, thoughts, fighting style and of course in their feelings for each other.

His hand landed on her shoulder and they were completely silent, her face was blushing from the contact. “I’ll meet you in the dungeons of the palace,” he whispered mentally. As usual the fate of one child, a heiress to the throne, was put into the hands of one once insignificant spy, his partner, a rebellious lass.

“Then what?”

“We part and you raise her as your own until the day comes when she can fight for her throne.”

“Why can’t you raise her as your own?” The younger spy asked bitterly, she hated the idea of the fate of the country on her shoulders.

“Because when she comes of age she will need a women, an adoptive mother to tell her about becoming a women.” The topic was obviously an uncomfortable one for him to speak of.

“How do I know you’re not the betrayer everyone had been talking about?”

“What?” He drew back away from her, his mental speech detached from hers and he refused to speak to her. He simply shook his head and handed her a staff.

Just as she turned to leave the room she felt a tear glide down her cheek, she hissed at it, ignoring her feelings stubbornly and wiping it away with her sleeve. “I can’t trust him,” she had known for days not to.

The fuel of clockwork armies had always been bread, in the past it was known as a staple food so it made sense that they ate it to keep going. But their supplies were dwindling just on the border of the great palace; they were in no man’s land.

Unexpectedly an army of clockwork men appeared. Men, who wore chain mail and carried sharp shafts, unsuspectingly attacked the army of clockwork belly dancers as the young women drudged their way to the palace.

“What the?” She murmured in panic, “I wasn’t told.”

“Colette!” She turned to the back of the army; she had heard a familiar voice. “Sparta?” She whispered, knowing there was no point in fighting the army. She held only a staff, and had with her mindless belly dancers soldiers who weren’t doing to well in the few seconds that had past.

A clockwork soldier leapt into her way as she turned to run to the front of the army. “Colette!” The soldier hissed in an oddly robotic voice, he raised his hand and took a swing at her with his sword.

She dogged out of the way and lashed back with her staff, fending a few blows and attacking him. “That’s Lady Colette to you!” Her staff smashed the enemy clockwork soldier in the rib cage; she could hear his internal cogs falling to pieces with each blow.

She fought her way to the front of the army knowing she had to get to the Enchantress; she had an obligation to protect the older women. Men kept getting in her way, as if they sensed she wasn’t clockwork, but a human posing to keep on eye on the preceding. She dived aside, dogging a knife that a clockwork thrower and chucked her way. Metal teeth gleamed in the light, blinding her a few seconds before another soldier jumped out with a flying kick. She dropped as soon as she felt something rushing towards; her, her sharp hearing had once again saved her life. “Lets finish this now Lady Colette.”

A young man emerged brandishing an axe and slamming it into every single clockwork belly dancer that got into his way. His eyes were bloodthirsty and his fangs gleamed as he roared out a war cry.

“Vampires,” a memory of blood splattering against the windowpanes as she watched from the outside, a young man drinking the blood of her sister. Her hand rose up to her neck as if to protect it. As milliseconds went by he grew unnaturally fast.

The Enchantress floated among the mess of vampires and their clockwork male soldiers. She scanned the army for her niece, the only person she secretly harboured a deep caring for. “Where are you my darling.”

In his hand was an axe that he smashed down onto Colette as soon as he was within attacking range, she jumped back just in time to avoid a death threatening injury, but screamed silently as one edge of the axe bit into her arm. She was in awe of his sheer strength, the axe was twice the size of her staff, and even if the staff had been filled with magic it would stand no chance against him. All she could do was doge, until she could find a place to disappear from sight through.

Sparta was much faster then she had last heard, twice as fast as last time they had been forced to fight. She threw her staff into the air and jumped up to grab it, dodging a punch from her opponent. Using her magic she managed to push herself further into the air. She scanned her surroundings; all she could see was dead clockwork soldiers, mainly belly dancers. “At least the Enchantress has escaped,” she thought wearily. The magic had drained so much out of her already.

She fell back to earth as slowly as she could, but still ended up landing painfully. She jumped to her feet, surprised but relieved that Sparta was nowhere to be seen she turned and began to push her way through the fighting masses, occasionally dodging an attack or defending a blow. “There’s no point fighting a lost battle,” she whispered grimly. Mentally she commanded the fake metal clockwork piece on her to disintegrate, luckily for her it did so in ten seconds.

“Lady Colette!” His voice reached her as clearly as if he was right beside her.

A shiver was driven up through her spine as she turned. She wasn’t able to doge what he threw at her, instead his axe logged itself into her torso and she fell backwards from the force. She screamed agonisingly as the enchanted axe seeped poison into her blood, poison strong enough to kill an elephant, if there were any left in the barren new world.

She looked up fearfully at her attacker, as usual Sparta was masked, but at least she knew exactly who he was, and what he was capable of. She spat at his feet, gladdened that the spit travelled surprisingly far and well. “I hope my partner hunts you down and chops your head off you stickleback meat breath!” She hissed; throwing any insult she could make up at him. “You snout headed weasel.”

He bent down to look right into her eyes. His hand grasped the handle of the axe and wrenched it from her wound.

She cursed violently and threw up blood, her body wriggled with pain.

“I hope the vaccine your betrayer gave you before will keep you alive a little longer. Can’t have my Lady dieing before she can serve her purpose.”

“And what is my purpose?” She asked mentally, knowing from past experiences he had the same ability.

“To kill the Enchantress, the creator of the first clockwork army.”

“Damn vampire kind. She should have sent her army after you first.”

“Ah of course. All those years ago, when your family died at my father’s hands...or should I say fangs?” He opened her mouth and closed into her neck, closer and closer till she could feel his breath.

“Your forgetting how poisonous my blood is to a weak vampire.” She whispered.

He slowly sank his fangs into her neck, crunching through her flesh and into her blood. He took a small sip of her blood before ripping his fangs out of her neck. “And your forgetting that I can run faster then any creature or machine on this planet,” he whispered in her ear. “Your mutated blood won’t save you from me. Not now.” He sank his teeth back into her neck so sharply she almost choked on her own breath.

“You’ll pay for this,” Colette whispered softy and it sounded oddly threatening considering she was the one threatened the vampire who was drinking her blood. “I’ll stake you personally!” She hissed as his fangs ripped out of her neck. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip as pain rippled through her.

“Maybe not, once you learn the truth of your last living relative, your precious Enchantress.”

“Sparta, we must go. Leave her!” A fellow vampire appeared out of the gulf of clockwork fighters. “Come!” He yelled.

The super vampire look up at his friend and bared his fangs savagely, blood dripped down his fangs and his hands raised his axe in the comrade’s direction. He had blood lust. “I will be taking her.”

“Sparta we are going to loose, we must fall back!” The vampire approached his friend and grasped his free arm. “Get up and leave her, you can come back for her later.”

The vampire hissed at her and grinned. His smile wasn’t horrific but it wasn’t exactly a pink and fluffy dreamy smile. “I’ll be back for you darlin…” his free hand reached down and covered over the wound in her neck. “My mark will forever stay with you, and no one will want to be near you for fear I come after them too.”

She closed her eyes for a few minutes, knowing they wouldn’t be there when she opened them. Yet she was still surprised at their stealthyness. Her hand reached her neck numbly, checking the small two wounds, it seemed they had healed over, but left two thin diamond shaped knobs. She closed her eyes again but this time fell into a relaxing sleep. Even after her ordeal she couldn’t help but dream of a past memory long ago.

The Enchantress sat on one side of the bed; she seemed calm and unconcerned about her niece’s condition. “Are you able to remember what happened to you?”

The young spy took a while to answer, she knew how much her auntie hated the vampires, especially the super vampires who couldn’t be killed off by light, holy objects, garlic and stakes to the heart. At least super vamps were rare; often there was only one or two of them in a whole pack of normal vampires. “Not really, no, I just remember an axe coming at me.” She cleverly pretended to shudder as if she had seen the axe in her mind.

“Very well then. The doctors have given you a months good rest.”

“A month!” She sat up in astonishment, pain ripped through her spine and she let herself fall gently back down.

The Enchantress raised an eyebrow, “my dear you have suffered trauma, you have been hit with a poisoned axe blade in the chest and you’ve also been drunken from by a vampire.”

Lady Colette absently touched the two small bumps on her neck, remembering the stark pain from his fangs breaking through her skin. “I’m sorry auntie Enchantress.”

“Well I shall be off to a meeting, I’ll see you later on. Maybe tonight.”

“That would be nice Enchantress.”

The second night in the hospital wing of the gigantic mansion didn’t go too well. By the time she was asleep she was dreaming and was as content as she could be, but then a dim light lit the room up slightly, creating a spooky shadow that walked across towards her.

He was cloaked in darkness and as he sat down on the chair he threw it off with ease, the darkness disappeared and the light flooded into the room. “Wake up Colette.” He whispered grimly.

She didn’t move, instead turned so she wasn’t facing him. Her hand grasped at some sort of unseen thing in the air, then fell back down gently onto the quilt.

His hands reached out to touch her but a fleeting memory passed through him, he decided against it. “Wake up my Lady!” His hands touched her shoulders, gently prodding her flesh. “I haven’t got all night for this!” He hissed angrily.

Still she didn’t move.

“Damn girl, get the heck up now!” He raised his voice. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a guard’s shadow move. He had been heard. He sighed angrily and ripped out all of the sticky pads from her hands and arms and threw them aside. She still didn’t stir. He picked her up in bridal lift and coaxed his cloak to him.

The darkened shadow crept along cleverly, as if everything was a simple game it didn’t wish to loose. Finally it landed on Sparta’s back and he tied it tight around him, making sure it partly covered the lady spy.

She woke up in a deserted room feeling slightly sick and nauseous. She checked her stitches, relieved to learn that they were still there, strong as ever.

“You have been sleeping here for a few days.”

So it seemed the room hadn’t been as deserted as she had first thought. “Sparta?” By now she could recognise his cold tone anywhere, his voice of mystery that would intoxicate any random human, but not her.

“There’s a basket of fresh laundry form one of my servants, mainly my sister’s clothes but she won’t mind you borrowing them. Put something more suitable…” He smiled as she carefully sat up, “and more tasteful on.”

“What am I doing here?” Her voice seemed calm, but her hands shook violently, “is this some sort of sick joke?”

“Far from it Lady Colette, in fact I have some information I need to tell you.”

“When?”

“When I say, until then you will accompany me down to the party and feasting.” He stood up and turned to go.

“Feasting? On what?”

He turned to her and bent down, “food, no blood my Lady,” he whispered softly, touching her scarred neck with his hand. “They won’t hurt you anyway, so long as you bear my mark your safe from them.”

“Well that’s a relief,” she said sarcastically. “But what about you?”

He ignored her as he walked to the door, but then he spoke just as the doorknob turned. “Well it depends.”

“On what?”

He left the room without leaving her with a reply to settle her worrying pain.

She sank back down into the bed for a few minutes, contemplating death, or escape. But she knew it would be useless, escape would probably get her into a lot of trouble, death would mean, well finding out if there was anything on the other side of the wall, and she wasn’t ready for that, well not just yet.

He watched her with yearning eyes as she gracefully walked down the stairs, she didn’t show any bad health and hid the fact that she had stitches very well, moving perfectly to disguise them. She had dressed in a beautiful dark red gown that was embroidered with curls and small flowers. Her hair, although quite short, had been put into an elegant twist with an orange flower clip that held it in place. The men he sat with were unsure of having a human among vampires, but they admitted mentally that she seemed quite a catch, not beautiful or handsome like himself, but pretty in her grace and speech. Already she had joined a small table and was talking to some common vampire ladies.

“You should join her boy,” the currant king of the tribe of vampires sat beside his general. “My what children you would have together.”

“My king!” He looked at the older vampire in horror.

“Oh please boy, I am not a fool, no offence minstrel.”

The fool jester nodded and bowed, “why tis ok your majesty.” He disappeared off into the dancing crowd, getting ready to entertain for money.

“Go and speak with her, get to know her a bit. Maybe even get her to trust you?” The king advised his general. For although the young general was a clever man in combat and tactics. He wasn’t too clever at romance.

Sparta silently sat opposite her and watched her stealthily, occasionally nodding with the group of talkers or shaking his head. In minutes the gang of ladies left to dance to their favourite music.

“Will you stop inspecting me like that,” she spoke softly, even smiled when she saw him smile.

“Would you like to talk my Lady?”

She shrugged her shoulders tiredly, “I’d rather go back to sleep.

He frowned, “a lady doesn’t shrug her shoulders in public.”

“Well its not in public, its in front of you.”

He shook his head, “so how are you finding the people here?”

“Their quite interesting, full of stories of war and combat, unlike the ladies in my homeland. Oddly friendly too.”

“Well they do know of your status.”

“Food and drink wise?”

He laughed and shook his head, “not quite, the fact that your blood is a mutated kind that can only be drunken by a super vampire was quite a tale to tell when my special guard and I got back.

She shuddered, “was I your first target?” She whispered.

He stared at her coldly, “what are you talking about?”

“I know that when a vampire come of age he or she is given a target of the opposite gender, they then have to either choose to kill him or her and drink their blood, or to turn them. I need to know if I was your first.”

“You don’t waste any time to learn about this sort of stuff, do you?”

She didn’t reply, staring back at him stonily.

“When I came of age, yes you were my first target, but when I met you in the cemetery…you remember don’t you?”

She smiled fondly at the memory; “it was the first time I had visited my family’s grave since the big funeral. I was happy, telling them that I would be safe...”

“And not to worry, because you auntie was going to take you in.”

She nodded, a little taken back at how much he paid attention to what she was saying and feeling back then, so long ago.

“Well when I met you I couldn’t go through with it, didn’t have the heart. I watched you though.”

“Stalked me,” she corrected.

“Ok yes, I guess, but I was curious, I could sense something was wrong with you. Something inside of you wasn’t the same as other humans I’d seen.”

“My blood.”

He nodded, “something else too, your magic, it was weak compared to everyone I’d ever met.”

“Oh thanks for the compliment,” she spoke sarcastically.

“But then I began to talk mentally to my father, asking him what I should do, and you intervened. You began speaking to me mentally in my zone, without even getting invited to do so. I have to admit I was spooked.”

“Then five years later you tried to kill me again, but I was an even match against you.”

He nodded, “my super vampire genes hadn’t develop by then. But now they have and I am a true super vampire.”

She nodded grimly, “and now you could take me down easily. Like you did the other day.”

“You’d be like me if you were to become a vampire too.”

She stood up abruptly, knocking down the chair in her shock. She touched her scar. “I’m your property now aren’t I?”

He waved away the on looked and turned his attention back to Colette, “you always were.” He smiled and stood up, taking her hands in his and whispering words into her ear. “You always will be, wherever you go, wherever you hide, I will find you. So you might as well get used to staying her for a while.”

He flipped through the book of articles, articles that had been banished form the Enchantresses site, simply because they told the truth to the whole mess of the war. The first article was about the beginning of the first clockwork army, and argued the point that the Enchantress had used spirits of young women in her first batch.

“Show that to her first.”

“When my king?”

“Tomorrow morning. Go to her room and speak gently to her about it, then show her the article. Give her an hour alone and then go back to console her.”

“I doubt she’d want to get consoled by me, especially after what you told me to do.”

“Sparta, she is needed to be kept safe, by your side. So she must become your property too. Besides, you’re the closest thing to a friend she has here, and you know her inside out.”

“I actually feel sorry for her, she has such magic in her blood and she can’t even use it without damaging her spirit.”

“But the Enchantress won’t care, some day she will try to get her niece back, and that day will be to use her magic to creat thousands of clockwork armies and that you must try and show her or speak to her about. The Enchantress is no angel, far from it in fact.”

“So the battle has begun?”

“No, it began a long time ago, before you or Colette were even born.”