Fate Weaver's convergence

C3

I ran. First at a trot, then at such a speed that I'd worn the muscles of my ribs sore, creating a sharp pain in my sides. I held the sword with both hands, holding it as if I was running forth with a pole to avoid catching myself on any brush too thick for my current body to overpower. Abandoning the sword should have been common sense, though, for my life, I couldn't wrest my fingers from it. The weight was great for such a small body, muscled aching as I struggled. However, my mind screamed to hold onto the forged steel lest a sense of dread overpower me. My life, somehow, depended on this sword. I darted into the woodline, delving deeper into the forest in some strange hope of giving myself mere minutes, even seconds, ahead of my pursuers. From what I could make out, both from sound and eyesight, I appeared to gain some space ahead of them, though the thought did little to ease me and slow my pace.

Some hour or so later, my breathing was so ragged that any mother accustomed to a child with asthma would have eyed me with worry. My clothes were soaked in sweat and waterlogged to the point one wouldn't doubt I jumped into the river wholesale. A child of such size, one would think they'd perish at such loss of water.

Just– keep– moving.

I brushed my bangs from my eyes with my forearm, freeing my gaze from obstruction, fearing an outstretched root or any other obstacle that would get in the way.

Damnit! Just the icing on the cake!

Being pursued by some unseen enemy so far, my body was starting to feel the chase. Like some exhausted game animal worn down by dogs, I was slowing down from the lack of energy I already suffered.

At this point in time, fear began setting in, my body finally chose to void my stomach contents as I ran. It was all I could muster to continue pushing myself, the tremors within my upper body nearly doubling me over. It was water from the river, having turned my stomach over upon itself thanks to overconsumption. I'd taken in more than would have been wise with hindsight taken into account.

–

For fifteen long– agonizing minutes, I continued that pace, avoiding my pursuers with an almost animalistic instinct. Sadly, luck, or more likely my lack of evasion skill compared to those who hunted me was coming to a head. Everything burned; my lungs, my legs, my core. I found myself bobbing my head, drool falling past my lips as my nostrils burned from the cooled air passing through. Carrying the sword in both hands, I was barely able to maintain my jog whilst the same perplexing alerts rang away within my periphery and ears.

Alert: Intercept imminent, Seek assistance immediately!

What good does that do me!? For such an unreal thing, you can't even give me direction? What am I to do? Run until driven to a fruitless stand against someone more powerful than me?!

It rang again.

Alert: Friendly party within detection range! Continue heading!

Tears began streaming down my face– the sense of desperation and fear intermingled with the pain this body screamed from within my mind. The elevation began to change, the forest floor reaching upward as if for the sky itself. It rose to an extreme degree, yet not so extreme that one couldn't scale it with just their legs if forced to. It was fast approaching, and looking in either direction brought hopelessness as the rise in elevation seemed to be without change in either direction, only varying in severity.

C'mon, push!

I chided, staring up to the now visible crest of the incline. On my approach, the thickness of the brush obstructing me became only more evident. However, amongst my own heartbeat and the distant echoes of men behind me, what came from over the hill was more welcoming than I could have hoped for in my situation. Fatuous bickering echoed from ahead, four voices by the make of it, with more than enough energy to boot. It was a rough and desperate guess that the group was a mere twice the distance from me as I was from the top of the hill.