After partly avenging her mother's death, Evette Star, the illegitimate daughter of an elven king, sets off on a warpath to find the adversary of her people.
The human King in the West, Dracul Dregoth, has locked himself away in a stone tower for r...
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Evette moved closer to the man dressed in black. He retreated back a few steps and drew his sword. It was evident that the noticeable gleam in his green eyes was caused by fear. The reason he chose his sword instead of his bow and arrow was unknown. He stepped backward until his back pressed up against the bark of a tall, stable tree.
The air turned brisk and hardy. It was as cold as frost, and as bitter as raw herbs. When the air touched Eve's skin, it practically turned to steam. She burned with an unusual, magical flame. She knew that she did not have much time to dally. The faster she could drive her blade through the man's heart, the better.
The medium sized sword in the man's hand was a dark metal. Its excellent craftsmanship was evident, and as it collided with Evette's bloody steel, it sang a metallic lullaby. The two swords ebbed and flowed together in a dance of skill and arm strength. Evette was moving quicker of course, clearly exerting her energy in the heat of the moment. She knew that this was a bad thing, but the darker part of herself could not care less. The fire in her veins gave her an unlimited amount of strength.
"Who sent you?" Evette growled as she inched closer to the man, the sharp edge of her sword forcefully kissing his blade. Whoever faltered first would have to yield.
The man gave no response. He struggled to hold his blade up. Evette was stronger than him, and she knew it. Although she had a small frame and thin arms, she outweighed him in muscle. His hands were uncalloused, and he had clearly never been in a sword fight with an angry elf. He did not know what he was getting into, to say the least. The black hood that the he wore fell back, revealing his face. With pale features and young green eyes, he did not look very menacing. Locks of braided dirty blond hair blew in the wind.
The sound of clashing swords made up the empty words left unspoken by the man. He gave his answer in the silence. He would rather die than give a response. While continuing to fight against Eve's forceful lunges, he found himself tired and bloody. She had nicked his covered forearms with the sharp edge of her sword, drawing crimson blood. His shirt and hardened leather armor were sliced to shreds in certain areas.
Evette's eyes were fueled with fire. Just as she forced the green eyed man to drop his weapon, she heard approaching footsteps behind her. She ignored what she heard, and gripped the man by his loose collar. His back slammed against the trunk of a different tree. Eve blinked twice and inhaled sharply. Before she could open her mouth to begin questioning the man, she heard a familiar sound. An arrow once again whooshed through the air.
The arrow struck the man's left ear, successfully nailing him to the tree behind him. His body stilled and he let out a scream. The gaping hole in his fleshy ear kept him from squirming.
A second arrow was shot from nearby. It flew so close to the side of Evette's head, that it just about grazed her dark skin. It was mere centimeters away, almost close enough to kill. The metal tip pierced the skin of the man's right ear. He was pinned to the tree Evette held him against; clearly in excruciating pain.
