"Being a good writer is 3% talent, 97% not being distracted by the internet." Cyrus Farivar

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Final Moments

 For some reason, I'm feeling medieval.

Final Moments

            She gasped, hand reaching to where the dagger was currently protruding from her chest. Wrapping her fingers around the hilt, she tightened her grip and tugged with all her might. The blade clattered next to her, as one hand dropped while the other pressed on the open wound. Coughing, she propped herself up on an elbow. Surveying the room, she noticed the bodies; not a single one moved, nor could she hear heavy breathing.
            Gritting her teeth, she managed to roll over and push herself to her feet. Her legs felt wobbly, unsure of their destination as she stood for a moment to collect her bearings. There wasn’t a sign of the Royals. Pushing herself toward the stairs after grabbing a blade, she made her way up, following the destruction.
            This sorcerer was powerful; his army of the fallen certainly no match for a simple soldier; nor a woman that had disguised her way into the ranks. Down the corridor she could see the flashing of colored light. Magic. Racing faster, she burst into the room as the battle ensued. Without a second thought, she flung herself amidst the dueling magic and the remaining Knights fighting the dead army. Her heart pounding, she dodged sword swings and fiery spheres.
            Ignoring the commands from the Prince, she approached and heaved the dagger at the sorcerer. It took him only moments to knock her flat, a glowing sphere hitting her breastplate. All went black as the battle raged.  

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