Prologue

 

His face bears murderous determination; unlike the intense desire he had brandished at previous occurrences when their gaze had met. Suddenly his eyes flicker up at the sound of a familiar voice calling out from a faraway expanse of space, and then with a quick jerk her victor is up and running. She gasps a hard breath, only to incite a searing pain into her lungs, a rip farther stretching the bounds of agony than even the blade had managed. No air!

Curious how the desperate scratch for survival can change things. She thinks, not in words, but in flashes, flash thinking that occurs to people meeting their end, or some other, unforeseen horror. Despite her best efforts and otherworldly talents, he had triumphed.

She heaves again hard, blinking wildly and thrashing her head trying to shake off the darkness that rushes in fast; sensing the faint smell of the grass amid the rusty aftertaste of blood, but still no air.  Over the years, the smell of grass had become synonymous with death, and she had loved it… until now. Digging her bare heels into the dirt, and clawing at the scant green blades, she struggles to get up but something other than pain has her pinned to the ground.

A thunderous crack nearby sends a rumble through the earth bed, and the sound of smashing rock hastens final impressions of defeat. Until now, it had been inconceivable, and her miscalculation will cost her everything.

 Get up! She commands herself. But the blackness takes over as her vision dissipates into a heavily blanked nothingness. Final, desperate gasps do nothing to stop the tingling sensation that is fast becoming inescapable paralysis while the thumping of feet treading quickly over the ground draws near.