BURNING BLADE ...a new foe

The faces of those he had cut down on his path of revenge were still vivid in his mind.

Their pleas a ghostly chorus of haunting whispers. The road he had chosen had its price. A steep one. Far from his destination he knew there would be many more tolls to pay along the way. Only a week past, the memories still carried an electric hum of life.

But out here, all that seemed so far away.

Alone in the snow, days upon days of trekking from anywhere, he camped.

Time to plan, time to heal, time to ready himself for the next leg. The escape of his final foe was a bitter defeat. Though, not unexpected. One did not rise to that kind of power by intelligence alone.

Damn his luck.

His teacher had always told him to respect your prey. Study them. Never to hurry. To strike when ready. And to not let a surprise lead him into unwise action. Before the biggest storms there is always the deepest of pauses.

Flake by delicate flake the darkening clouds disgorged their loads.

Already deep, the snow continued to pile up. The sun had set and all around the sounds of life drifted into slumber leaving behind the silence. This place was sacred. A secret of old passed down to him by the one for whom he sought revenge. The waters of the spring in which he sat were special. Said to be the tears of a long forgotten god, they brought healing to any wound of the body. Heart, soul, and mind, those were another matter.

Body warmed by the fires far below that heated the pool, he planned. A deep breath and the cool air filled his lungs. A balance, of sorts. In, out, in, out, as his mind speculated. Where would his prey flee? What clever plan would be hatched? What weakness of his would they seek? He knew they would not stand idle now that his threat was revealed. How would they attack him?

Aches faded away as time stretched on. His own plans began to form. He must find them. To know where your enemy stood was imperative. Evil always sought the shadows, so there he must look. Without the where, he would be blind.

The sound of a twig snapping brought him back to the world.

Eyes focusing they sought a target in the inky black. The thin sliver of a moon hid behind the blanket of clouds leaving him nothing to go on. Had he imagined it? Or did his mind seek conflict, even here?

Another sharp snap, closer. He slid towards the edge of the pool, and his sword. Reaching out for the scabbard he drew his hand back suddenly. The brief touch of something on the back of his exposed flesh chilled him to the bone. He had seen what it was before it flew off. The stories, no the legends of what that little wasp represented...

There could be no hesitation now, for if those legends were true, or even a part of them, his journey may end this very night.

A swift movement and he was up and out of the water, sword in hand, clothed only in the steam coming off his still hot skin.

No time for modesty, he readied himself, eyes still searching the darkness for something, anything.

A buzzing, thin and high pitched.

Not one, but many. And close. How would he fight her? What had he heard about her that was true? Was there anything that he could use against her? The questions raced at an unbelievable pace seeking advantage in the thin volume of knowledge he had. His body relaxed, battle-ready, waiting for a direction to pounce.

Without ceremony she walked into the clearing. Clothed in silky darkness her pale skin reflected what little light there was. Jet black eyes sunk into a harsh boney brow were fixed on him. Hatred, like a single pure note, was the only thing he could sense. To match that glare took a feat of will he'd never had to muster before. The five wasps that she called pets perched on her shoulder. Said to contain the souls of her siblings she had slain to attain her position, they followed her silent commands.

Stories called them the heralds of your doom, if you were unlucky enough to catch their attention. Her attention. An assassin of old, her origin faded into the mists of time. No full story existed to explain the existence of this person. Death, that was how all the rumors ended. And now she stood before him.

'You have aroused the anger of my master,' came the raspy words. 'He has told me to seek you out. To deliver a message.'

His hands tightened on the sword, body at the ready. 'Message? What message?'

A blink and the world seemed to shudder.

He was on his knees. A sword pressed close to his neck, death a moment away. Time stretched out, replaying that last instant. Movement that couldn't be followed. A blur. Weakness that sucked the life from him. His supplication. The end of his journey?

---

Behind his left ear, 'You thought you could hide her, didn't you?'

---

His blood chilled, then in an instant came to a boil. Every muscle in his body strained to move, to act, but controlled itself. 'Death is too good for you. Your strength shall now become your weakness. A punishment to match the crime. Pain, eternal.'

How had they found her? How had they known about her? She had been a secret, even from his teacher. The second part of his soul that could not be denied, though it had been forbidden.

'How...' he began to ask

As the light touch of one of her winged pets touched his neck. 'How indeed...' came the reply. And like liquid fire the pain slid into him from a dainty stinger. Again steam rose from his body as it trembled. Muscles rippled under an intensity that left him sliding to the ground in a limp pile of flesh and bone.

'Do you understand?' came the question with an uncaring laugh. 'You will remember this, forever. I am off now, to deliver another message.' And then, darkness.

A minute, an hour, a day later, he couldn't tell. His eyes refused to open. Sounds from the gurgling spring were close, close enough. A scream, his own, muted by the snow, one after another, as he crawled fist over fist to the life-giving water. He would live. For now.

How had they found her? Could he get to her in time? Would he be able to save her?

The questions turned over and over again in his head.

No good answers to reply so instead his mind moved to the first step, healing. He could not pursue, could not fight, could not win, if he did not first prepare. Heaven damn him for the delay. He would rescue her. But for the moment... As his mind once again slipped away.

What's going to happen next to our intrepid here? Will he make it to his love in time? Will the evil assassin reach her first? Stay tuned!

PART ONE - REVENGE