❝ In a world tainted by decadent rulers, the Princess must step back to her kingdom for a revamp of the rules, claiming her rightful place on the throne ❞
Rules are made to be broken was the only rule Lysandra ever abided by. When that very principl...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The city welcomed the night with grace. It was the slow flickering on of bulbs and lights at first and then the horizon descended, a variation of dark hues taking its place. The stars yawned and twinkled, getting up from their quite literal day dream. The sound of gasps and grunts however was what disrupted the peaceful rhythm of the sequence of everything.
The weather however boded no difference to Lysandra whose pair of dark eyes flitted back and forth the two men in the ring, her palms fisted and her lips set into a firm line. She did not let her focus waver as she calculated the next moves of both the fighters, planning a formula of her own in her head.
Just as she had expected, the man in red vest swung his fist from the bottom, ramming it into the chin of his shirtless opponent. He fell onto the ground with a thud and the victor raised both of his hands up in the air, shouting along with the others.
"And the hero wins yet again!" announced the commentator, his voice booming through the microphone amidst the cheering and howling of the spectators. "That's right, cheer for Skeletor!"
"Who's next?" challenged he, curling his index with his hand moving and pointing towards the crowd in a circular motion.
Lysandra, who had been observing the whole thing from the very beginning, stepped up and pulled the hood of her jumper down. The crowd gasped looking at her while the man, Skeletor, chuckled roaming his eyes up her body, sizing her up. Putting his expectations to shame, she held his haze with nothing but confidence shining through her hazel orbs.
"Where you get your gall from, I wonder. Do you really believe that you can fight me?" he tried, but failed miserably, to scare her off.
She simply nodded and signalled for the commentator who then finalised the bets. As soon as his whistle was blown, she got into her form, defending every strike of her opponent with a stronger one of hers. He stepped back, panting while she stood unfazed, circling him.
Being the stalwart that he was, Skeletor grunted and bulldozed his way towards her, punching her face with his fist slamming right into her cheek and then knocked her down with his head lodged into her middle. The crowd cheered as he confided that she would never get up but, she threw water onto the fire they had lit up by getting to her feet within no time and yanking the bulky man down, with her hand clamped on his ankle. Taken by utter surprise, he fell down on the ground, reaching out with his hands to reduce the impact of his fall.
Lysandra smirked down at him, dusting her hands and challenged him to get up. Skeletor growled and charged towards her while she simply dodged him by stepping aside. She was riling him up, making him see red and lose all of his control, his concentration shifting away from his determination to win the match. Clever moves and almost lethal tricks were the reason why she was still in the ring, almost on the verge of snatching the victory.
It took a couple more minutes of her relentless defence, tactical mind games and gasps from the people for her to confirm that Skeletor was finally exhausted. She took this as a chance to pack a powerful punch right at his face and he stumbled back holding onto his nose, shooting daggers at her.
