She had counted the odds. She had done the mathematics of survival and found them wanting. Behind her the cathedral stood as it had stood for centuries, indifferent to the battles fought in its shadow. Above her the raven circled, herald or mourner, she had never known which. She raised her sword anyway. Some battles are not fought to be won. They are fought because walking away was never an option.
Oil painting, dark fantasy in Luis Royo style. Foreground: a dark-haired warrior woman in torn black armour, confident stance, holding a large sword. Midground: swirling mist from which emerges the massive head of a dragon-like creature, one large amber eye visible, body obscured by mist. Background: ...