The Burning Sky.

Ivory kept running. She knew if she stopped she would be caught, and after what she had done to Keilen, she knew that she would suffer. on she stumbled, through the whimsical brush, slipping in the mud and getting scratched by branches of scrawny, leafless pillars, who reached out with knobbly fingers, trying to grasp hold of her frail autumn body. She cursed her boots, which were thin leather and slightly heeled, not decent for running, especially not in the terrain she was encountering. She guessed that about five people were following her. Five people. Five men.They sounded as if they had been trained for strength, not swiftness, they were like bears, clumsily smashing through. Ivories lungs burnt, her side stabbed at her with a horrible stitch, and she felt like she was going to vomit. She looked at the trees, they were all too scrawny to climb, reaching to the sky with knobbly fingers of skeletons. They were still only young, littering the ground with their shrouding shadows. The stronger, older trees had been burnt to the ground four years ago, in the Great War. Ivory tried to think of another way to escape, she didn't know the area at all, had no idea where she was going as she was smashing her way through the woods. She had no time to go slow and cover her tracks, as already she could glimpse her hunters, fifty metres behind her. There were five men, she confirmed, and they were all boars of men, huge , muscular and trained for close range battle, not running. Five men against a young exhausted lady the odds were certainly not in her favour.

"Unprotected, slow, impatient," her mind whispered to her, stating their weaknesses and trying to figure out a way to outsmart them. She caught sight of a flash of a purple coat that one was wearing. "Class six" She continued, "That means they are probably each equipped with a short sword and dagger, they're useless at a distance. Best not to let them be in range to use the sword."

She came across a path. She ran onto the relatively even ground and gained a few hundred metres, a burst of adrenalin fuelling her into a sprint. She turned a corner of the track and to her delight found a burnt out house with parts of its shell still standing. She ran off the path into the ghost house, scanned the floor and grabbed what she was looking for, an iron poker, laying by the ruined fireplace. She slid behind the door frame, waiting. After a few seconds the first guard entered. She leapt out, swung the iron fire poker and smashed him in the head before he could do anything. She had only a second to look at the huge dent she had left in his head with content before the next man came smashing through the door. He lunged for her but she jumped out of the way, but not before he had clipped her on the shoulder with a clumsy, but heavy, blow with his fist. She swung her arm again and smashed her impromptu weapon into his ribs, then, as he doubled over in pain, she bought it back and speared him, straight through the chest. He went pale and collapsed to the ground. She had a good thirty seconds before the other three reached the house, and by that time she had equipped herself with one of the soldier's swords. She easily dispatched the last three as they were stupid and came through the door one at a time. A quick slash of the sword and the first ones throat was slit, she thrust the sword forward and stabbed the second through the chest and then bought the sword out straight away and swung it, perfectly timed to slash open the stomach of the third.

Ivory stood for a minute, she felt the sensation the adrenaline had bought her drain away, and she collapsed in a puddle of blood and guts, panting hard. She tried to stand, and just managed to, even though her legs could hardly hold her. She kicked off her boots, determined not to let them slow her down anymore, and stripped one of the soldiers of all weapons. The sword was average class six of type, iron, thick, no decoration and built with great strength. She also took a small vile of strong alcohol he had attached to his belt and the pouch of coins each soldier carried carried. She packed everything and turned towards the door. As she begun to turn she felt something ice cold, sharp and familiar pressing into her throat. She instinctively swung her elbow back, but before it could collide with her attackers ribs the knife was pressed harder into her throat.

"Where were you going?" The man whispered in my ear. "Drop the sword honey; you don't wanna hurt yourself now, do you?"

"I could advise you to do the same," I replied, gripping the sword tighter.

The man made no reply, but Ivory felt a trickle of blood begin to run down her throat. She dropped the sword in response. As soon as her immediate form of defence was out of the way the man grabbed her arms, twisted them painfully behind her back and pushed her to the ground, driving his knee into her back and binding her wrists together. As the heavy iron cuffs were locked into place he released her, rolled her onto her stomach and frisk searched her, a bit too thoroughly around her chest for her liking. He removed her newly acquired weapons, and then blindfolded her. He laughed; she felt so helpless blindfolded, and was worried that the army had found one of her weaknesses. She couldn't blow anything up without being able to see. She was also pissed at herself for forgetting about trackers. Trackers are soldiers, but are trained in the art of being silent and swift, they are placed randomly, about three minutes behind certain squads, usually only when they are on a special mission, to aid them if they need it, or finish jobs and tie up loose ends that the others had started. Ivory had assumed that the group of men chasing her were just the usual patrol, who had recognized her, but now she realized that they were assigned especially to capture her, and she could not forgive herself for not noticing earlier.

Watching from behind the empty frame of the building, peering through a crack in the window frame, Soren saw the girl get captured, and was waiting and watching with interest to see what would happen next. He knew he would probably rescue her eventually, but he wanted to be sure she wasn't some crazy murderer or anything. The two were not talking much though. The girl just sat, trying in vain to slip her hands out of their chains. The tracker was staring at the girl, a hungry look in his eye. Then the girl broke the silence, she said smart-ass-like.

"So are we just going to sit here all day? Don't you want to hand me over to Keilen and claim your reward as soon as you can?"

The man turned his head to the side, taking the girl in, "I think I can wait," he replied, then lent in towards her and kissed her. She freaked out, tried to pull away and failed. The man was holding her tight, and it was impossible for her to fight him. Suddenly he pulled away, yelling, he spat, and his saliva was filled with blood. He glared at her, and then asked, disbelievingly "Did you just bite me?" He didn't give the girl time to answer. "Bitch" He shouted. And then bought his hand up, and then bought the back of it hard across her face. Her head snapped to the side, she immediately looked up at him defiantly. The tracker slapped her again.

It was then that Soren decided to step in; he set an arrow, drew back the bow string, aimed, and released. The arrow penetrated straight through the trackers back. The man died almost immediately. The loud smack of him hitting the floor echoed ominously around the small room.