A/N: This is my first foray into writing fiction, but I didn't want to focus on any characters we know and love. They may show up but I won't exactly say how just yet.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot and original characters
I'm not going to survive this I thought grimly. This surely had to be my end, my bones ache, it burns when I breathe and still my attackers won't stop their pursuit. I don't even know why they're chasing me, or how they can magically shoot fire. If I weren't about to die that fact would probably seem a lot cooler. But as it is, that's the least of my worries. I stop to collect my breath and my thoughts. I'm overreacting and forgetting everything the nomads taught me. I take a ragged breath in and calm myself. I hear someone run in and quickly shoot out three of the knives I always keep on me. The nomads didn't like it during my time with them but understood I would only use them in a dire need to protect myself. They hit their mark with a sickening thud and I quickly work to retrieve my knives and remove the evidence. After that I sit to meditate and work to clear my mind, hopefully then I can find a way out of this mess.
Faintly I hear more footsteps coming my way and lots of them, meaning I've got to run again. As I'm running I have to constantly bob and weave to dodge fireballs, seriously how do they do that? I'm not staying to find out though. I continue bobbing and weaving while also minding the terrain of this road in my attempt to escape. All my running leads me to an abandoned building, where I quickly run in and hide in the furthest room in the back. I can barely hear their footsteps over the sound of my own heaving breath. Eventually the leader must've called them back because the footsteps fade. I think I'm in the clear! I start to move from my hiding spot until I hear a shout of "surround! Aim! Fire!" and suddenly the walls shake as if there's been a massive earthquake. I guess they decided that if they couldn't find me they'll burn the building down and kill me that way. I look around in a panic, surely there's an escape somewhere. I run for the first door I see, and flames block my path. I search around for maybe a weakened wall to push through but there's nothing I can get through without being caught, I'm trapped. Still half-heartedly searching for a way out I start to realize there's nothing else I can do. So I sit in meditation and prepare to accept my fate. I clear my mind and wait, knowing the spirits will claim me soon enough. The thought keeps occurring to me that I have not lived a long full life, fifteen years isn't quite enough, but I guess it's my time. As the smoke and flames inch closer I close my eyes. The flames are close now, I can feel them licking at my limbs, and the smoke is invading my lungs. I am however totally at peace, this is my destiny. I feel myself getting weaker, it's getting harder to think let alone breathe, but still I show no fear, no pain, or no worry. I am determined to end my life as the monks would have wanted, completely one with my spirit. As I feel the last vestiges of life start to slip away, my eyes snap open, yet I only see white.
