Claire

PROLOUGE

          Claire

          The sky wept through the greying clouds as a horse, dark as the looming twilight, traveled beyond the horizon. On it was the stoic shell of a cloaked individual, face hidden behind the shadows, yet the darkness still not enough to conceal their identity. For no matter how fast one shall run, they will never be able to escape from their path of wander.

          But suddenly, their movements faltered into an unexpected stop, stopping just by the edge of a cliff, death peeking it's icy orbs down below. Remaining stoic, striking yet cold amber eyes rivaling death itself, glared down at the dense forest accompanied by the distant sounds of hiding creatures enclosed in the threatening darkness.

          Gently as it could, the icy wind that appeared within the rain blew upon their slender figure, faded crimson cloak dancing along with the swaying leaves. When the cheap imitation of peace was suddenly interrupted by a sharp sound piercing unto the air thick with tension, sudden pressure felt upon her neck.

          "Surrender." Threatened a voice, a man, from behind, the weapon that they observed to be a sword now slowly digging into their flesh. And like a warning from forthcoming danger, lightning flashed through the firmament. But still, the mysterious fellow remained collected, the order to yield greeted in heavy silence.

          But despite their eerie stillness, swords are unsheathed, and bows remain ready. Wary and calculating eyes hid in the shadows, studying the proud figure while two stood behind them. When finally they hummed, mockery evident in their tune. "A hundred against one?" Was what escaped their lips, along with a soft chuckle.

           "We know a hundred is not enough." Answered the deep voice from behind, hope lost in his voice. For despite the ones with protection, the feeling of dread still remained. Who wouldn't when they're facing the figure even the mightiest warriors feared.

            "Hmm... You make me sound rather threatening." They began, voice strong with no hint of fragility. "Isn't that a bit unfair seeing as you rebels are the one clothed with weapons?"

          "Yet we were not the ones that killed more than the number of weapons we hold this night." The reply came out unexpectedly, spilling out of his mouth like blood from wounds untreated. And with that, amber eyes darkened, mouth pursed into a thin line.

          "You truly are quite the philosopher, sir Lionel." The person left a bitter chuckle,

          "Is that why you've forsaken the King?"

          "That corrupted man was no king!" Lionel exclaimed, his sword trembling in rage. "And yet, you too are no loyal subject, sire." They answer simple, tone gentle but a mere facade. "And you are already no knight, Oliver." Slowly, his bare hand raised from his sides, "Or should I even call you that?"

          Quickly as he could, he pulled down their hood.

          And appeared a gust of wind.

          Surprised eyes overtook the vicinity as their rigid stance faltered as they were to watch their hair. Pale as the milky light that appeared within the moon, flourish in the endless winds. It swayed like the crashing waves of the great ocean, uncontrollable. Mesmerized, they could only stare, so stare they did.