Like everybody knows I don't own the TV show "Highlander" or any of its
characters. I created some new characters though, these are mine.
This story takes place just after the episodes "Comes a horseman" and "Revelation 6:8".
MISTAKEN
Prologue
The motorcycle sped with 90 mph over the wet road. Richie knew he was taking a lot of risk, maybe a little too much. Not only was the road wet, but it was also pitch-black. It was a road outside of Seacouver, one without streetlights. But Richie didn't care, he loved the feeling of speed, and because it was a relatively abandoned road he didn't run much risk to endanger the life of other (mortal) people.
Richie needed his full attention to see where he was going. He had reached a woody area, so the trees blocked the little moonlight that was available. And the heavy rain didn't improve his sight either.
Just when he was about to take a turn, the buzz hit him. He lost his balance for only one second, but it was one second too much. He missed the turn and went straight ahead instead. His front wheel hit a stump, which caused him to fall.
Dizzy, Richie sat up, leaning against a tree. He immediately tried to locate the immortal, given that this person could be an immediate threat to his life. He didn't have to look very hard.
But the immortal didn't pose a immediate threat, at least not yet. About 30 metres from where he was, a car was parked on the shoulder of the road. The car apparently had broken down, a man was working under the hood. He didn't even bother to look in Richie's direction.
Knowing he was not in danger yet, Richie looked around to see what happened with his own mean of transportation. His motorcycle was only five feet on his right with the back wheel still spinning.
Richie turned his attention back to the car when he heard it start. Satisfied, the other immortal got out the car, closed the hood and looked at Richie for the first time. Richie got on his feet and pulled out his sword. He was still a little wobbly but he wouldn't show it to the other man. He was pretty sure he could hear the other man mumble something like "nice welcome committee". The man took off his long raincoat and held his sword down, the tip in the muddy ground. He leaned on the sword with both hands, awaiting Richie's next move.
Steady on his feet now, Richie moved to the other immortal. He could see the man better now. He was white, about six feet tall, with a muscular build and short dark hair. The sword he had in his right hand was an Ivanhoe.
'You're sure you wanna do this?' the man asked. Apparently he didn't really want to fight. Richie wondered this was because he wasn't very good at it or because he just wasn't in the right mood.
'Yeah, I'm sure.'
In response, the man pulled his sword out of the mud and held it out horizontally in front of his body. Richie started the battle by hitting at the sword with his own.
Richie knew this challenge was a big mistake pretty soon. The man was strong, fast and at least one move ahead every time. Some of his opponent's moves gave Richie the idea this battle was a piece of cake for the guy. If this was true or not, this man was without doubt an experienced swordfighter. Probably more experienced than he was.
The fight didn't last long. Suddenly Richie found himself face down in the mud, without his sword in his hands. When he looked up, he saw his sword. A big problem was that he saw a pair of feet immediately next to him. He would never be able to reach the weapon.
Richie gasped when he felt cold steel against his throat, cutting in his skin. He started to feel the fear; he felt shivers go up his spine and he wasn't able to move anymore.
The sword was pushed upwards, forcing him to look up at the other man. The man's face was without expression, and so were his eyes. Richie cursed inwardly. Why had he challenged this man? The man had given him the change to walk away, so why didn't he? Now he was going to die. Richie was surprised he was annoyed by the fact he didn't know the name of the man who would take his head.
To Richie's surprise, a smile appeared on the immortal's face. 'Not bad kid,' the man said. 'Not bad at all.'
This story takes place just after the episodes "Comes a horseman" and "Revelation 6:8".
MISTAKEN
Prologue
The motorcycle sped with 90 mph over the wet road. Richie knew he was taking a lot of risk, maybe a little too much. Not only was the road wet, but it was also pitch-black. It was a road outside of Seacouver, one without streetlights. But Richie didn't care, he loved the feeling of speed, and because it was a relatively abandoned road he didn't run much risk to endanger the life of other (mortal) people.
Richie needed his full attention to see where he was going. He had reached a woody area, so the trees blocked the little moonlight that was available. And the heavy rain didn't improve his sight either.
Just when he was about to take a turn, the buzz hit him. He lost his balance for only one second, but it was one second too much. He missed the turn and went straight ahead instead. His front wheel hit a stump, which caused him to fall.
Dizzy, Richie sat up, leaning against a tree. He immediately tried to locate the immortal, given that this person could be an immediate threat to his life. He didn't have to look very hard.
But the immortal didn't pose a immediate threat, at least not yet. About 30 metres from where he was, a car was parked on the shoulder of the road. The car apparently had broken down, a man was working under the hood. He didn't even bother to look in Richie's direction.
Knowing he was not in danger yet, Richie looked around to see what happened with his own mean of transportation. His motorcycle was only five feet on his right with the back wheel still spinning.
Richie turned his attention back to the car when he heard it start. Satisfied, the other immortal got out the car, closed the hood and looked at Richie for the first time. Richie got on his feet and pulled out his sword. He was still a little wobbly but he wouldn't show it to the other man. He was pretty sure he could hear the other man mumble something like "nice welcome committee". The man took off his long raincoat and held his sword down, the tip in the muddy ground. He leaned on the sword with both hands, awaiting Richie's next move.
Steady on his feet now, Richie moved to the other immortal. He could see the man better now. He was white, about six feet tall, with a muscular build and short dark hair. The sword he had in his right hand was an Ivanhoe.
'You're sure you wanna do this?' the man asked. Apparently he didn't really want to fight. Richie wondered this was because he wasn't very good at it or because he just wasn't in the right mood.
'Yeah, I'm sure.'
In response, the man pulled his sword out of the mud and held it out horizontally in front of his body. Richie started the battle by hitting at the sword with his own.
Richie knew this challenge was a big mistake pretty soon. The man was strong, fast and at least one move ahead every time. Some of his opponent's moves gave Richie the idea this battle was a piece of cake for the guy. If this was true or not, this man was without doubt an experienced swordfighter. Probably more experienced than he was.
The fight didn't last long. Suddenly Richie found himself face down in the mud, without his sword in his hands. When he looked up, he saw his sword. A big problem was that he saw a pair of feet immediately next to him. He would never be able to reach the weapon.
Richie gasped when he felt cold steel against his throat, cutting in his skin. He started to feel the fear; he felt shivers go up his spine and he wasn't able to move anymore.
The sword was pushed upwards, forcing him to look up at the other man. The man's face was without expression, and so were his eyes. Richie cursed inwardly. Why had he challenged this man? The man had given him the change to walk away, so why didn't he? Now he was going to die. Richie was surprised he was annoyed by the fact he didn't know the name of the man who would take his head.
To Richie's surprise, a smile appeared on the immortal's face. 'Not bad kid,' the man said. 'Not bad at all.'