...67...
THE EMPEROR'S SEALđ
That devilish smile, it was the kind which could make anyone's blood to instantly run cold.
It was the kind of smile that never failed to instantly turn someone into an immobile statue, causing tremors to run through their static figure and back.
Vura stared back at the familiar face of her mistressâwhich was feeling far from familiar at the momentâwith the fear that the evil in her eyes spelt.
'Come on, bring it on,' she continued to provoke the lady.
As her mistress advanced, she prayed to God to spare her life, wondering if she would survive at the merciless hands of her mistress.
Her short life played before her eyes in the few seconds before the devastating strike came.
Surprisingly, she was able to defend the strike, and she smiled.
The luck of the heavens seemed to have been on her side.
As the lady grunted in anger at having missed, she spied Xiera from the corner of her eyes.
Together, they fought against their lady in a duel that she was most definitely enjoying so well.
And despite knowing her for a long time, they were each hardly correct in predicting her next move.
The duel was a rather interesting one.
The strength of the two ladies were diminishing, but that of the lone fighter didn't seem to be going down at all.
The weary Vura narrowly missed a blade strike from another crazy attack and was saved in time by
Xiera who parried the blade away.
The lady stared straight at them then stepped back with her blade.
She studied each individually for a short moment with that signature evil look in her eyes that they both knew spelled doom.
They were both definitely praying vigorously in their minds to be spared from her wrath when the Little Prince and his envoy arrived at the right moment for it distracted her for a moment.
And then she was at them again, as fast and fiery as ever.
Both blocked her strike at the same time with each of their blades.
She growled low and began to push forward causing both to keep moving back wearily, each trying to hold her ground.
The moment it felt as if both their legs would give out, she bounced back and came at both again without giving them time to recover.
'Oh no!' Vura yelped as she came onto them.
But she never reached them because Octavia met her along the way with her sword.
She fought with the expertise deserving of serving royalty.
Yet, the Lady was still too strong for her to handle.
She was holding out well, just getting by in the fight and anyone could see that.
A small mistake and Octavia was disarmed, her sword tossed far from her and another descending towards her neck.
She prayed to her ancestors of the Aqua Territory for her last moments and safe passage into paradise with her eyes closed.
But, she never got to meet them, her ancestors that is because someone stopped the blade at its last moment with a strength that matched the lady's own.
The sound of iron meeting iron caused her to open her eyes and sneak a look.
It was none other than her master, the Little Prince who had blocked the blow with his sword.
He had just saved her from the claws of death, and she was indebted to him once again.
The Little Prince and the lady battled on a fierce fight that looked as if it wouldn't end.
Swords flew through the air and came down only to clash and clash again, kissing each other with a persistence that kept the two going.
As they fought the Little Prince wondered where on earth his irresponsible brother could be when all this was unravelling.
And then, "Mine."
The voice stilled her immediately.
She instantly recognized that familiar redolence and turned towards it, abandoning her battle foe.
Why?
Why on earth was that scent so pleasing, so soothing, so familiar?
And it was coming from him, the tall dark stranger who was staring straight at her with eyes that seemed to see all of her.
He began to come up to her and she could do almost nothing but to stare helplessly at the epitome casually strolling up to her.
"Mine," he said again.
He reached out and tried to take away her sword.
There were warnings in the background from different sections to not face her unarmed or approx h her directly because it was dangerous.
But each and every one of them went down the drain as soon as they were uttered.
Despite her momentary distraction and confusion, she was extremely quick in evading him.
She stared at him and when he moved again, she attacked him.
She side stepped her first two attack precisely as if he were reading her.
Her surprise shew on her face and it was it that allowed him to be able to disarm her in quarter of a nanosecond.
He threw the sword to the left, the metal clanging as it met the ground.
'You dare?!' She questioned.
And she was after him with every ounce of anger in her.
She was switching and nibble on her feet, meeting fearlessly and confident for the hand to hand combat.
She attacked him furiously and he in turn evaded her moves smoothly, leaving her perfectly frustrated.
She inhaled and reattacked him with a fulsome vigour.
Yet, he easily blocked each and every of her rather fatal attack.
Her counter attack was brutal and ruthless and he only managed to side step it at the last minute, a narrow escape.
Their spar, it was a tense and suspenseful fight.
Everyone watched the match with their hearts palpitating wildly in their chest and the tension of the unknown eating away at them.
After a few moves from her side, the emperor stilled and watched her advanced.
She didn't find his staring suspicious and continued to come at himâshe was about to pay for it, her negligence.
Suddenly, he attacked her, no longer defending like he had been doing all along, taking her momentarily but surprise.
But the simple short moment was enough for him to execute his quadruple signature moveâthe Little Prince liked to call it the emperor's sealâon her, one that had her staggering back, almost losing her footing.
It was almost because he had caught her, hugging her tightly to his chest.
That familiar rich soothing redolence assaulted her senses once more, leaving her buddy and needy and nearly swaying on her lousy feet.
'You,' she whispered, lifting her eyes to look at his face properly.
'Mine,' he whispered an answer.
He equally stared back at her with his deep melanous eyes.
'It's me,' he carried on in that same low whisper.
She on turn tilted her head as if to look at him well enough with a confused look on her pretty face and in her effulgent eyes.
'Who?' She asked him.
He lowered his lips to her and touched hers lightly with his.
...OmaPhinaPhiređ„