Journey of the Lost

Chapter 1

       A sword whistled past her ear as Jaylen rolled across marshy ground. The watery moss clung to her shoulder as she returned to her standing position. The water soaked her boots, making them feel like rocks tied to her feet. There were slowing her down too much to have a chance in this fight.

      She raised her dagger to deflect away the next strike from the curved blade, rolling away once again to shake her waterlogged shoes off. She grabbed one in her hand and threw it at her opponent, who sliced the leather boot in half with his sword. She used his distraction to slash him across the thigh, beneath his guard.

      He yelped in pain, jerking away and coordinating his stance once again. Her foot was already at his face, and there was a sickening crack as his nose snapped beneath the heel of her bare foot.

      Jaylen deflected his next swing, not in the least delayed by the previous smashing of his face, but the force sent her reeling backward. She might be quicker than him, but she was not stronger.

       Her opponent was a man abnormally tall, with brutishly broad shoulders. A thick, black beard covered his crooked and bleeding nose, blending in with his dark, untrimmed hair. His skin was brown in color, undoubtedly from hours upon hours working beneath the hot sun, green eyes glowing with a hint of annoyance at his smashed nose. His hands were big, strong enough to pull a small tree from the ground. He was renowned for his strength, skills, and tenacity all throughout the town of Nerid, but Jaylen had no fear of him.

      His next blow she was sure to dodge, rolling behind him for a stab in the back. His foot swiped behind him without him so much as turning around, and she tripped, falling flat on her back. She wheezed as the breath left her lungs, the sticky swamp water soaking her brown hair and making it cling to the sides of her face. She found the tip of her opponent's sword at her throat and groaned.

       "Never assume your opponent has one way of battle," the brutish man snarled into her face, spraying her cheeks with saliva. She made a face. "Just because one might be good with a sword does not mean they can't fight with their hands. Just because you've gotten behind their blade does not mean you've gotten behind their defense!"

       "Ruskin, let the girl get up. You're making her ruin her clothes!" A woman's voice called behind them, but Jaylen knew better than to let her gaze slip off of the man. Last time she had distracted her attention, he had caught her in the eye with a large fist, scolding that an enemy will take advantage of every distraction, every moment of hesitation. Because of that blow that still left a painful memory, Jaylen did not relax her body nor take her eyes from his.

      The sword was removed from her throat and belted, and his large, rough hand was extended to her. Jaylen took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Ruskin dusted his scarred hands off on his pants, then nursed his broken nose as he turned to face the woman who had called.

      Jaylen grinned wickedly, recognizing her opportunity. She moved as fast as lightning, swiping a foot beneath his in the same motion she took his sword from his belt. Ruskin lost his balance and fell on his side, finding the sword blade against his throat.

      Jaylen crouched on top of him, grinning broadly as she crowed, "The enemy will take advantage of every distraction!"

      "Don't spare the soldier who is stronger than yourself." Ruskin surged upward, catching the blade in his hand and tearing it from her own. The sword spun through the air as Jaylen found herself defenseless against the man.

      "Well, I wasn't going to kill you," she grumbled, and he considered this. Then he gave a satisfied nod.

      "Fine. We're done for now. And go find your shoes."