Mismatched(A collab with EmeraRider)

Chapter 5

       The hooded figure prodded me onward, one hand holding her sword and the other a torch she stole from our campsite. All I could think about was that each step taking me farther away from one captor to another, and I was pretty sure that Nathan was more merciful than the hardened woman before me.  After ordering me to come with her, she remained silent, only slightly snickering when I  tripped.  I kept my eyes on the uneven ground while my stomach twisted into a knot over and over again. My breathing was shallow, and sweat beaded on my forehead. 

      I needed to be calm. That was the only way I could make it out of this situation alive. I thought of Nathan, who was still peacefully sleeping by the dying fire. What would he do? Well, he wouldn't be captured in the first place, but that's beside the point. I racked my head for any possible solution as we approached a carved stairway. Then it hit me. 

         I paused at the stairway, looking back at my captor reluctantly.

            "Go on," she snapped impatiently.

      Each stair was rough and poorly shaped. It was made hastily; the workers who made this didn't have the luxury of time. I slowly climbed them, testing each stair with a foot before continuing. My captor moaned at my torpid movements. My foot slipped, and I landed on my knees and palms.

             "Ugh!" My captor spat. "For God's sake--" I didn't give her time to finish. With lightning-like speed, I was on my feet, pulling my sword out of its scabbard. My foolish captor didn't even think about disarming me...but would I really be able to use my weapon anyway?

         I pointed my sword at her chest, right where her heart would be.  My captor's mouth was in the shape of an "o." But that shock did not last for long. Even I could see that the sword trembled in my hands. She smirked.

             "You really think you can do it?" she said, gesturing to my weapon, "then go ahead. Get it over with."

       I had this insane urge to plunge my weapon into that heart of hers, to prove her wrong. I blinked, a little shocked. I expected her to beg for mercy, but that just showed how much of a child I still was.

     Her eyes narrowed, and it was then I reazlied that this was the hesitation she was waiting for. She pounced on me with predatorial aggresiveness. My captor had a weapon of her own, too, a jagged, double-edged sword. She pointed it at me, and soon, the metalic music of clanging swords filled the air.

          A strange type of energy enhanced my senses, making colors sharper and my reflexes quicker. Her sword came down in a deadly arc above my head , and I was able to block it a mere hairswidth away from my head. At this point, we started to descend from the stairs. I swung at her torso as she leaped back,  my sword grazing her shirt. I growled in frustration.

              My arms were already sore, my fingers numb. I was weak. Too inexperienced. I cursed myself. My opponent saw my fatigue, too, and charged at me, her sword raised high above her head, too confident to see that she had left herself vulnerable.

        So with my last ounce of strength, I swung as hard as I could at her midsection. My sword hit her torso with a sickening "thunk" sound, and blood immediately darkened her white shirt. Her eyes were wide with pain and disbelief as she stumbled back. On the other had, I stood there, shocked. Had I just...? I couldn't possibly have...I dropped my sword, and then clumsily shoved it back into its scabbard. It was still covered in blood.

            My captor lay their, gasping, staring at my venemously. But I didn't feel pain, or guilt. I felt nothing. Absolute numbness overcame my body as well as my emotions. I didn't cry or scream, though I'd probably do both soon. But for now, I was driven by instincts, to keep going.