Bellator

Prologue

My hands curl around my sword and I draw in a breath, feeling the movements around me. The blind fold may have taken away one of my senses, but every good warrior goes by what they hear, not by what they see. Their eyes can mislead.

Suddenly, I hear a rustle to my east and I can't help but smile. Easy.

I flip my Black Witch sword in my palm, waiting for the enemy to find me. It's easier for the prey to find the predator, it saves the hunter energy.

Their faint foot steps, breathing and scent tell me what I already know. They're what the wiseman call "The Soldiers of the Forest."One of the finest slaves on our land, wild and free beasts, they are. Ogres are blind but have great strength and are about three times my size. Not an issue.

This was going to be fun. The only question was how many are there, I think but instantly put my mind to the hunt. It did not matter how many there where, I was a warrior. Nothing mattered, not even the blood on my hands.

They were approaching, their motives fickle, but either way these are my grounds. There was only one obvious victor to this pathetic battle.And, incase you didnt realize, that would be me.

The first solider swung at me clumsily and I slashed my magi sword across his windpipe like he was air. His foot steps gave him away that even a mortal could hear his lumbering steps. Fool.

When there's one there's many; this was the case. After the first ogre hundreds of them surround me with no order. Their plan was to take me down. I laugh at their foolishness.

Crouching I wait for them to charge. When they do I'm prepared. I dance around them in a silver blur slaying the creatures without thought or emotion. Blood caked my hands and slowly their cries die out and silence filled the forest once again.

When I observe my job I'm satisfied. The cuts were clean. The fight wasted little energy; infact, I felt alive and great. Plus the horrific scene in front of me would send a clear sign to the villagers.

A sign of respect.

No more pests wandering near my territory. No more damage will be done.

After cleaning my blade and stealing their herbs, I'm prepared to leave. However, I had one more task to complete.

The ogre's magic still surround them in a bright aura. Slowly, I open my mouth and breath, in their power, collecting it for myself turning their corpses to dust.

The power surges through me and I feel damn powerful. My thirst for souls is quenched. This is how I fed.

Warriors got power from a body's soul. More darkness I killed, the better for me. For them.

I hop onto my black horned steed and flee the crime scene. I had other matters to attend.

My home was deep in the depths of the Amissa Forest, land not many creatures find appealing because of the large predators that inhabit it. Creatures that even I kept out of their way. In addition, the curse kept all the innocent away as well. The witch who set it was an half mortal lady who had enough of the kingdoms and wanted to be alone. Therefore, she set a crazy spell on the forest that would slowly eat your memories and happiness until you were nothing.

That witch was also my only aquatint I had. She favored me, as the only immortal magi who could withstand her curse.

 I wandered in the woods on ol' Nuka, trotting around till she spots us. Nuka was my gift, from the witch, she was given to me on my 154th birthday to follow and carry me to where my mind takes me. The beast had massive wings and a long black horn upon its head, which helped much in her own survival. Her dark coat shielded her, keeping her hidden and her spirit kept me company.

Finally, a mist formed around a Willwood tree and Nuka leaps into it with delight. It took us to our little hut, delicately entwined in a historical design of the witches with branches of all type twisted neatly. It was a sight to see.

I hop off Nuka and silently open the door, welcomed by the many mystical smells of the witch's cookings. The room is dark and puffs of many colours arise from her cooking pot. Potions are laid everywhere and various ingredients that I've gathered are laid out on her Willwood table.

"Bella? Bellator! Is that you, child?" The Scottish, blind witch screams in a raspy voice until I pass her and touch her shoulder for reassurance. The witch did not ask if the ogres where gone because she knew me.

She is half mortal, born to a mortal Scottish family. Now, stuck at the meer age of 37, she has pitch black eyes and long red hair the falls to her waist. She was smarter then any wiseman and one of the most powerful creatures I have ever come across. She's blind, because of her own foolish obsession with testing her own creations. She was a feared woman, but a good one.

Silently, I, make my way to my part of the tiny hut and close the door behind me. I not tired; I don't sleep. I am just lost in a swarm of thoughts.

What is the Nightmare King planning?

Thd Nightmare King is from the Dark Kingdom. He is the main source. He creates sickness, and nightmares for mortals and, in extreme cases, unnatural or unplanned deaths. His people were his pets, toys.

Everyone.... Everyone fears something, even he does.

He feared me. Because of what I was. Who I was. And what I could do...

I was Bellator. The first, the greatest female warrior. No, I am the greatest warrior that ever came to be. My mission is, always been, to murder the Dark Kingdoms very own ruler, Caeruleus. To slowly watch the colour drain from his irises and his body turn to nothing. I am to end the terrors that took over my kingdom, that began centuries ago,

I swear it.

However, I am not ready, not yet.

"All good things come to those who wait," the witch once told me. "Your time is forever."