When nineteen-year-old princess Ona is abducted on her way to her wedding, her betrothed, Didé scours all of Out-earth looking for her. Dragged to the highlands of Kebo that she knows about only from legends, Ona discovers that her captor is not onl...
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They turned a corner and found their path blocked by a trio of their pursuers, blades drawn menacingly. Tij stepped protectively in front of Ona, dropping into a defensive crouch.
The first warrior charged recklessly. With almost contemptuous ease, Tij dodged the clumsy attack and delivered a savage kick to the man's knee, dropping him with a howl of pain.
The remaining two marauders hung back, advancing more cautiously. As one lunged forward, Tij met his attack with a dizzying flurry of strikes - knuckles and elbows deflecting the blade harmlessly aside at the last moment.
Growling in frustration, the marauder overextended, leaving himself exposed. Tij capitalized instantly, his open palm slamming upwards into the man's chin. There was a visible ripple of energy as Tij's power-surge-focus briefly manifested as a shimmering force aura, amplifying the blow's impact. The stunned marauder collapsed in a heap.
The final marauder's eyes went wide at this display of skill. As he hesitated, Tij dropped into a low stance, extending one hand as if grasping an invisible sphere. He drew his arm across, materializing a shimmering force barrier that deflected the panicked slash of the warrior's blade.
With a grunt of effort, Tij dissolved the barrier and expelled a focused kinetic pulse that sent the last man tumbling head-over-heels down the tunnel from whence they came.
Few more assailants lunged at him, only to be repelled by the invisible barrier that surrounded him. Meanwhile, Ona cowered in the corner, her screams piercing the chaos.
Tij's eyes widened as he saw the glint of steel slicing through the air, the assailant's sword aimed squarely at Ona's unprotected form. Without a moment's hesitation, Tij threw himself into the deadly arc of the blade.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the razor-sharp edge bit into the flesh between Tij's shoulder blades. A guttural cry tore from his lips as searing agony lanced through his body. He could feel the unstoppable momentum of the sword punching through muscle, scraping along bone, impaling him from back to front in a gruesome parody of a consummate warrior falling on his own blade.
Tij's knees buckled, but he willed his trembling legs to remain locked, refusing to crumple to the ground just yet. He had to use every last ounce of his waning strength to keep himself upright, to keep that lethal span of steel from plunging into Ona.
She turned at his anguished cry, her eyes going wide with shock and disbelief at the grotesque sight. The blade protruding obscenely from Tij's abdomen seemed to mockingly quiver with each rattling, bloodstained breath he drew, until the assailant withdrew his sword with menace and to meet a groan from Tij's lips.
Ona's hands flew to her mouth, unable to stifle the guttural wail that arose from deep within her core. Tears sprang instantly to her eyes, spilling down her cheeks in torrents as a visceral sob wracked her slender frame.
