(Doesn't really matter to me)
Ziad walked down the halls of the stronghold. He passed by other rebels. He had a day off today. His work has been hard on him lately. Raiding caravans, killing small platoons, etcetera. He walked outside and the bright light hit his face like a sword hits a man's head. He welcomed the warmth and walked over to the woods into an opening he discovered when he was a kid. He sat down on the plush green grass. he pulled out his sword and toyed with its edges. He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling at one with nature and the world.
There he is. Xylia held her breath—her target finally appeared. She hoped he wouldn’t see her perched in the big willow tree, with the many vines cascading around her. She didn’t particularly enjoy assassinations, especially when it was her own kin, but what could be done? The king’s orders had to be obeyed. She pulled an arrow from her quiver, softly pulling back the string and aiming the point at his chest. All she needs is for him to move his sword down an inch. Then, he’s good as dead.
He moved his sword around and in the reflection he saw her. She was holding a bow, aiming for his chest. His body stiffened and he took a deep breath. He pulled out his dagger and threw it at her in a swift movement while srting to the side, behind a tree. He held up his sword, poised for battler. "Keep em coming king. I'll be waiting" he whispered to himself.
Suddenly, a dagger entered her vision—it was coming straight at her. She swiftly crashed onto the adjacent branch, managing to avoid her death, but gathering numerous scratches in the process. She cursed under her breath. The bast.ard saw me. This was going to be more difficult than she had anticipated; she resented her underestimation of the task and her carelessness. Keeping her bow at the ready, she dropped to the forest floor. I have to get him out in the open, she thought.
He smiled as he heard her walking and he slyly darted to the next tree, without making a sound. He kept his sword at hand and he drew another throwing dagger. He pressed his body against the bark of the tree. He felt adrenaline run through his body. He loved fighting. This should be easy.. He came out of hiding but tripped as he threw the dagger. He quickly began scrambling to the next tree.
She listened intently, yet there was no sound. Nothing besides her own quick breaths. She hated fighting—more than that, she hated fighting when the target knew she was there. She heard the sound of the air splitting. Another dagger. This time, she didn’t get away fast enough. Her head wasn’t in the game. This would cost Xylia her heartbeat, if she wasn’t careful. I thin line of blood dripped down her arm, but she ignored it. I just want you to know, Ziad, I no longer feel remorse about killing you. I hate you deeply. She peered in the direction the knife came from, the immediately left and right. He would’ve moved, obviously. She darted up the side of a tree, no longer caring about stealth. She moved quickly—never stopping. His knives would not be fast enough to hit her again.
He saw her moving up a tree and he scurried up another one, remaining out fo site. He crawled up the tree like an animal fighting for his life. Atleast, that's what he felt like. But, he didn't mind it, he just kept his focus. Soon, he was higher then her. She wasn't fast enough. He lunged off of a branch and tackled her to the ground, straddling her and holding her down. "Well, I've got you know. Who sent you?" he asked in a stern voice.
One second, she was climbing a tree. The next, she was hurled to the ground. She was breathless, and pain gripped her body in its vicious euphoria. When she recovered enough to deduce what had happened, she was already pinned down. She knew his strength would outmatch hers. There was no point in struggling. But there was no point in surrendering, either. He spoke to her sternly, obviously thinking she was finished. Thinking she was too weak to do anything but tremble and submit. Stupid boy. “You know who sent me,” she said, her teeth gritted and her eyes fierce.
"Shut up" he said. He looked into her eyes menacingly. He put his famous smirk on and kept glaring. "You're no match for me. You're just a little girl eh?" he said as he chuckled. "Didn't puch up much of a fight anyway. So tell me hows the old king doing these days I want to know a bit about my father anyway" he said, feeling disgusted at the use of the word father.
The shock was on and off her face in a fraction of a second. Whoa. Wait a second. Father? Oh my go—there is no way. Wait, focus. Don’t let crap like this surprise you. She stared at him coldly. In the face of his menacing, arrogant smirk, she decided to smile gracefully, knowingly, as though she had planned this situation from the start. She said nothing. She didn't move. She allowed her mind to consider ways to get out of this.
The shock was on and off her face in a fraction of a second. Whoa. Wait a second. Father? Oh my go—there is no way. Wait, focus. Don’t let things like this surprise you. She stared at him coldly. In the face of his menacing, arrogant smirk, she decided to smile gracefully, knowingly, as though she had planned this situation from the start. She said nothing.
"Ok, remain as you are, now get ready to die" he said, pulling out his sword. He waved it around skillfully. He slowly but the sharp, gleaming tip to her slender neck. He smirked and drew a little bit of blood. "So, are you going to speak or should I just kill you?" he asked, his cold smirk present again.
It was humiliating, having this—this fiend, sitting on her, threatening her life. What made it even worse, she was a mess. Her dark hair had escaped it’s ribbon and was scattered around her face, her fair skin was covered in scratches and red marks from his tight grasp. But, she had a hand free now.
Her smile faded, she allowed herself to feel defeat. “Fine,” she muttered her voice low and agitated. She opened her mouth to speak, and shoved an arrow tip into his side. She used the momentum to roll over and dart away. The sword cut her pretty deeply—but it was the price to pay for freedom. She would fix it later. I may not be able to outrun him, but I will outsmart him. She would use her magic. She was the last of her dark elf clan, after all.
He stood up steadily and pulled the arrow out of his side, wincing. He put his sword away and threw two daggers at her, one whizzing past her head, and the second getting her thigh. He redrew his sword and began running after her. She wouldn't get away. The rebels would have this one.
She gasped at a sudden burning in her thigh. In addition to all her other wounds, it slowed her down drastically. She backed up to a tree, facing him, and slid down. The pain overtakes her and shows on her face. She muttered a spell and raised her hand in the air, putting a protective barrier around herself. But her insignia was fading. She wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. “If you think,” she paused, gasping, “you’ll take me alive….You are deluding yourself.”
He came forth. This one could use magic. She was special. He hit the barrier with his sword then stood back. It was no use. "Well done. You are pretty tough I guess. Not bad at least. But this magic won't hold long. You're wounded. I'm not stupid when it comes to those of your kind" he said with a chuckle. He waited, sword at hand.
“You don’t know…how tough…I am…” but even as she said it, she knew it was just a matter of time. She could keep the barrier up until her energy faded, and take her own life before he could, or she could drop it to heal herself and risk him getting to her before she could get it back up. No, he would get to her before she could do that. The spells are too long. He was too inhumane to allow her the honor of killing herself, as well. She considered the possibilities. She made a decision. It disgusted her, but it had to be done. She only needed a minute to gather up her strength. “Your…Your father is…better than ever.” She said, angry she had to answer his question.
"Mmm, that's not good. I should fix that by killing his little pupil eh?" he said with a sick laugh. He waved hhis sword around. "You'll have to come out of there sometime. And trust me, I'll be waiting" he said with a devious smile.
Yeah, you’d better enjoy this, she thought bitterly.
Gathering up what was left of her pride, she rose slowly to her feet. She removed her quiver and slung it around her bow—then she tossed the whole thing through the barrier, which she had managed to keep intact. It landed directly in front of Ziad, or as she would call him, the devil himself. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
She seemed weak. Was she giving up. He sighed. "I'll spare you. Just let me get you some medical help. Don't worry I promise" he said. He wasn't a merciless animal. He didn't like hurting people but he didn't like his job. He did what was right for the people, whether it meant taking down his father or not.