Oki – The Beginning
The blissful sun bathed her skin as she stood amidst the scene of carnage, her heavy, furred robes still neatly draped from shoulder to foot. Under her long, dark hair, two gleaming eyes stared at a pair of shaking, bloodstained hands. Oki could still not comprehend the events that had just occurred - the more she thought about it, the less it made sense.
It had begun just before sunrise. The cover of nightfall gave him the chance to approach so close before being noticed. The guards, were they still alive, would have felt foolish for the mistakes they had made. But it was too late for them now; the enemy had shown no remorse.
The first the militia knew of his presence were the screams. The two young siblings awoke just in time to watch the horrific figure murder their helpless, sleeping parents. If only they could have realised, they would have survived if it were not for their distraught screams of anguish.
And then, finally, the militia reacted. Within a moment the small group had drawn their arms and were standing on the cold and icy street that made up the main road through the village. As the heavily armoured unit made their way towards the now silenced house, he emerged from the darkness.
Slowly, silently, he made his way towards the villages' defenders. His pale face lacked any emotion, and it was obvious now from where he had come. In his hand he calmly held a black steel sword, and his body was adorned with a cloak darker than the night that enveloped him. From under this came the dull gleam of metal, his armour, a breastplate of the same material as his sword. Without thought or feeling, he closed the distance between him and his foe.
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The screams had woken her up to. She sprung to life, sitting up in her bed. What was going on? The screams had stopped now, and there was but a little commotion outside of her window. However, it was far too late as curiosity had already claimed its grasp upon her. She quickly grabbed her heavy robe and made her way across the dark room to the shadowed window. Crouching down, she pulled the corner of the drapes aside and peered out into the night.
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The unit of militia stood ready for the oncoming warrior. Oki's father stood proud at the head of the formation, prepared to sacrifice his life in the defence of his home. They did not try to speak with it, for they knew it would not reply, and they stood alert – watching, waiting for the automation to approach.
That's when it began. The unit charged forth into combat with the outsider. Over a dozen men moved in with ferocity unknown to all but the bravest of warriors. But alas, their strength was not enough. The knight of death moved with feline reflexes and exceptional speed. His sword whistled through the air as it parried every strike made against him. Every blow he dealt struck home, every blow removing one of his foe.
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Oki watched in horror as the village guard fell, one by one, to the greatest warrior she had ever seen. She thought for a second that she was still dreaming, watching as though the result was irrelevant to the conscious world. And then reality stuck. She let out a horrific cry of pain as the emotionless warrior plunged his dark steel sword through her fathers stomach. The blade cut effortlessly through the armour plating and hacked through bone and tissue without remorse. The warrior pulled the weapon from his bowels, and Oki's father fell heavily to the ground, blood gushing from his wound.
The guards had fallen now, and the warrior stood proud amongst the scene of death that he had created. Before he could decide his next action, Oki leapt from behind the window in which she was hiding. Unarmed and barely trained, she was no longer in control of her actions. Her emotions flooded her body with an anger she had never before felt. He was going to die, she knew not how, but she was going to kill him.
The first rays of the sun emerged from the distant horizon, as she charged ferociously toward the murderous beast. He turned in time to watch her pick up her father's sword mid-stride, and he stood ready to intercept the enraged heroin. He watched in disbelief as the lone woman, wearing but a nightdress and a robe, rushed toward him ready for combat.
As the distance closed, she leapt skywards. Her feet tight together, she arced many feet above the head of her father's murderer. Perturbed and surprised, he quickly spun around to stand ready. She could feel the golden weight of the sunlight upon her face, and the world around her moved so slowly. She perceived every movement and with incredible ease she dodged every attack that her attacker made, her body moving with a fluid grace.
With every strike that missed it's target, his anger intensified, and his aim grew less true. Oki still displayed no signs of faltering, and then she struck back for the first time. Stepping aside from a heavy, downwards blow, he had left himself completely open. She swung her heavy sword with ease, and it struck its target with incredible force; cleaving a gaping wound into the knights weapon arm. He fell to the ground clutching desperately at the injury.
As his armoured body smashed into the cold, icy ground so did Oki's sword. Unarmed once again, she leapt onto his upturned back, and with the ferocity of a wild animal, she beat his head against the toughened ground. Over and over, his face thumped and smashed into the bloody ice and still she did not stop. Only when her arms grew tired was she sure that she had avenged her father, and she stood up confused and absent-minded, ready to walk the new path life that had opened afore her.