Prologue
They were here. They were coming.
I tightened my grip on my dagger, contemplating to strike. I had failed once, and will not once more.
The old scar stretching down my calf was throbbing in agony, as if temping me to hurry. Patiently, I waited as the seconds crawled by. The timing had to be perfect, not a second more or less.
I narrowed my eyes in concentration, not missing any details. I readied myself as they approached. One step... Two steps... Three.
I leaped from my spot, ambushing them. I let out a cry of fury as I drove Pagos straight into her closed wound, now reopened. Blood spluttered everywhere, a gory sight was beheld. I smiled in achievement as I unsheathed Pikros, ready to strike once more.
Running to their accomplice's side, they tended to her fatal wounds. Cold sweat streaked from her pale face, the ambrosia fed did no favor. As her heart rate decreased, all hope gradually faded.
Then, as if on cue, they drew their weapons in unison, and I held mine up in response. Their faces showed no fear, their eyes filled with determination. Vengeance from their lost friend gave them new found strength. They got into a stance, feet firm on the ground. The silent conversation was clear; the battle was on.