Not much longer.
Isla pressed the thought, her breathing ragged and rough. Her footsteps thundered against the forest floor. Each duck and dodge added ample distance between herself and her pursuers.
The treetop plafond receded and her running stalled. A brief stint of moonlight enveloped her body, the mystic hue beckoning her sight like fine laced brandy. One second more, and the view vanished.
"There she be!" bellowed a deep, hoarse voice.
An arrow nicked her arm, tearing clothes and grazing skin.
Isla tsked and resumed her pace. Give them one chance and escape dwindled. They had appeared incompetent and lazy, like the fool who challenged her. But now? No, now they hunted.
The flat muddied woodland before her angled. Between the exposed roots and poor traction, one misstep, and her lives flashed before her. Still, Isla launched herself at the sloping obstacle. Forget the risk, armed men chased her tail, thirsting for blood. Even she wouldn't accept death with open arms.
With large trunks for support, she balanced her descent. The bark's grooves indented their marks upon her flesh. Twigs scratched her body, their sharp ends clinging to her cloak. Each addition strengthened the resistance, but Isla wrenched the cloth and freed herself.
Another arrow plunked above her head, splintering wood. Chips of bark hurled at her, pecking her face. She reacted, shielding with an arm, but the simple movement shifted her equilibrium.
She burrowed in deep with her heels. Yet, roots snagged her legs and the mud coaxed her footing. The forest's foundation endured the grapple, buckling her feet and lurching her forward. Instinctively, she grabbed an overhead branch and eased her momentum. Dropping and wrapping her arms around her head, she slid down the remaining incline.
Mud matted her back and the wet, chilling wind smacked her face. She groaned, rolling over. For once, couldn't escape be easy?
Isla humphed and stumbled upwards on loose rocks, advancing forward. One second lost could undo her effort. The arrow bearing her name would arrive, striking her beating heart. She coughed, stifling the sound.
Soon, her time would come, she could taste the freedom.
She shoved through the dense foliage, protecting herself against piercing twigs and thorns. Bolting into a narrow clearing, Isla halted.
A man with snow-white hair and irises replicating the sun stood before her. His otherworldly appearance conflicted with the pale low-class overcoat he wore. No shred of identity or race marked him to others. With the moonlight glimpse fleeing, a shadow inched across his stone-cold face. Accompanied with a wide-open stance and arms crossed, he dominated the forest.
Her time stopped—it was Skye.
Warmth evaporated from her veins like water touching a white, molten star. Her pumping blood slowed, her adrenaline sapped. The solidification expanded, entrapping her whole body and shackling her legs.
She had expected Skye ever since she saw the wanted notice and heard the words of Maron's elder. But not this soon, not to mention within the forest.
Isla cleared her throat, calming her breathing. "Why are you here?"
"Does it matter?" Skye retorted.
"I'd say yes," she mocked, placing her hands on her hips. "Aren't I allowed to know if you'll kill me or not? Or is that another grand secret for me to uncover?"
"Complaining about your failures only shows your immaturity."
"Hurry, ye fools," a voice resounded.
She shrugged. "Yeah, I'm a failure. But I doubt that explains your constant need to chase me." Isla curled her fingers then unfurled them, repeating the action. "So then explain to this poor fool, why you're here?"
Skye remained silent, instead, he raised his arm and exposed his palm. The spot before him glowed a faint white. The glare strengthened, illuminating the woods.
Isla watched, steadfast and unflinching at the surge of light. One mistake, and she forfeited her life to Skye.
The eye-numbing radiance faded. Her eyes adjusted, outlining Skye's creation against the black backdrop, an unsheathed short sword filling his grasp.
She lowered her body, training her gaze. Yet, her instincts screamed retreat. But how could she? Skye would skewer her in two, leaving her corpse for a stray Demon's feast.
Isla clenched her teeth and reached beneath her cloak. She caressed the cold dagger's hilt, awaiting Skye's attack.
But instead, he rotated the blade and pierced the ground with it. For a second, Skye stared, his mask spotless. He afforded no clue in interpreting his purpose. What was his plan?
Finally, a yellow hue exuded from his skin, enveloping him. The intensity grew before Skye disappeared, leaving her and the sword behind.
He posted a bounty for her head, but now he helps? Again, his confusing methods stumped her. One day he kills her; the next, he saves her.
She ignored furthering her thoughts, instead, Isla rushed the weapon, yanking the blade from its earthen tomb. The leather entwined hilt and the blade's heft yielded comfort. A grin crept to her face at the polished and clean surface. Armed and ready, now the counter begins.
The trudging behind her ceased. Turning, Isla counted the two former comrades accompanying the dead man and four add-ons. The new interlopers wore a similar styled black cloak, however, masks concealed their faces, offering either a receding hairline or bald top to pair. Torchlight highlighted their protective light armor covering their chests with their legs bared free. Yet, all other observations lacked luster when compared to the obvious scratch and rust marks marring their trade's tool.
Isla sighed, more amateurs.
"You'll be payin' for what ya did. Put that weapon down and we won't take our time slaughter' ye," growled the traitorous knave while his comrades inched forward, their formation split.
"Ganging up on a single girl, you do call yourselves men, right?" She weakened her grip, the sword teetering on her fingertips.
"Shut ye mouth. This yer last chance, put it down," he roared.
She switched sword arms, the heft invoking a throb. "You know what? You're right. I'll make this easy." Isla stooped and planted the weapon. Her attention flickered from one man to the next, from their postures to their minute reactions.
Still hunched, her free hand slipped into her cloak and she paused.
Her nearest enemy swatted air and rubbed his face, both eyes closed. Isla grasped the dagger's hilt and flicked the dagger from her inner pocket.
The projectile swooped headlong, piercing the throat of the distracted foe. His knees crumpled and his face kissed the ground.
Without hesitation, she lifted herself and her weapon. Isla pivoted, swapping weapon hands and returned to the woods.
"Kill her!"
Their stomping morphed into softened steps, and she spared a glance. Only two men followed, their hulking bodies swerving around the tree trunks.
Giant shrubs coated her pathways' side. Their leaves rustled, and a pursuer leaped from the foliage, baring his teeth. Isla sidestepped but continued her sprint.
"Ye fool." A grunt sounded and the pounding footsteps mellowed.
Had they given up? She pushed her legs harder and heaved a breath. Did she have time to take one out? Isla swiveled her gaze, scouring the landscape.
The land sloped and she veered right, moving up the small mud-coated hill. She concentrated on maintaining her footing, her muscles blistering and whining as she ascended. Though energy vacated her body, the risk rewarded her with a lone pursuer. Even better, one from the bar.
Isla rounded a tree, fixing her back against a narrow birch. The smooth surface supported her while she watched the enemy nearing her position, his torch shining bright.
He climbed the slope, each step solid and stable before his next. Mist sheened on his forehead and matted his thin hair against his neck. He closed the distance, his breathing ragged.
She strengthened her grip and turned her body. Her momentum drove a downwards slash. But he parried the blow, rocking backward and sliding a foot.
Without pause, she stormed his defenses, delivering an endless rain of strikes. His sword vibrated from her power, and his lips puckered. A feral growl ripped from his throat, but his stance endured.
The continuous stamina drain fueled a burn, the pain heightening with each strike, slowing her pace.
With her weakness showing, he countered, copying her but with thrusts. Each blow's weight equaled a behemoth's strength, forcing her blade lower. Yet, her gaze flickered, seeking an opening. For one chance.
Isla bit her lip. An ache permeated from her arrow graze alongside her throbbing muscle spasms. She needed to act.
Surrendering her position, Isla launched herself forward. Her weapon scraped against her enemies and her knee connected with his lower body. His howl gurgled as he tumbled down the hill.
Isla dug her heels and sword into the hardening mud, slowing her descent. At the base, the man skid to a halt, his weapon laid well behind him.
Reaching level ground, she straightened her posture and rushed the fallen man. His body trembled as he crawled to his knees. Yet, she doused his success by grabbing his wet hair and pulling. He groaned and lifted his arms, lashing out. But a single slash across his throat ended his struggle.
A roar unfolded from whence she came. Another pursuer bolted from the thicket, charging her like an enraged beast.
Without pause, Isla returned to her course. She heard his march but trained her gaze on the widening path.
The trees thinned and the terrain transformed from flattened dirt to a rock littered hazard. With distance, the small pebbles grew to smooth boulders. Water had stained their bodies and the river's current threatened their position.
A breeze propelled the mist, dotting her tongue. Each drop fueled an insatiable thirst, but quenching her throat became impossible as a searing pain surged through her leg. The vision of relief before her disappeared as she staggered and fell.
Smacking into the earth, she rolled. On reflex, she stabbed upwards, right into her attacker's belly. His warm blood flooded her chest as he collapsed onto her, his limbs twitching against her skin.
She grunted, squirming beneath his mass. His wretched rain-soaked and sweat riddled body smothered her airways. One shove, and another, and finally his fat shifted. She inched out, sliding her body free.
Isla crept upwards, her knees baring her weight. Mud coated her face, her hair and her limbs. She gasped, choking on the clean intake.
She looked back as her remaining three enemies burst through the thicket. With a narrow stretch of land separating them from her, Isla spun and leaped into the cold, raging water.
Isla sunk, her feet kicking to the surface as the current carried her on. Yet, the water's speed countered her efforts, keeping her under. Her lungs burned and she struggled, flailing her arms.
With a burst of energy, she surged to the surface, her wheezing pained. Her head bobbed as she consumed mouthfuls of water.
Still, the swirling rapids dragged her forward. The last traitorous foe rushed beside the water. He weaved between large rocks and over fallen trees. But soon, even he was lost.
She welcomed the brief comfort before she crashed into a log, sending her under. Her hands swung for contact, latching onto the warped wood. Even with the slick and rotten surface, she managed to haul herself up, coughing water. Despite her body's wails, she managed to drape herself over the log and cling on.
The river twisted and dipped. Isla was whisked away, forced from side to side.
The landscape blurred and her eyelids inched a crack from shut. Each second wrecked her concentration until the water slowed, yielding momentum. Her life support drifted along the lazy river and her legs finally dragged through the silt.
Using the last of her strength, she stumbled through the shallow water to the riverbank. She drew a haggard breath before collapsing onto the shore.
Her vision blurred and faded, the coming darkness welcoming her with open arms.
A/N: First chapter! Let me know what you think. Do you like it? Have any impressions? Is this the end already?