Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of the characters besides my own.

Prelude to Fate

Chapter one: Intro to a Prelude

She rode cautiously, careful to step in pre-trodden earth so as to conceal her path. With every sound in the forest she listened intently as the ears of her horse pricked up: waiting in the dark, anticipating discovery. Ten minutes she would wait before silently signaling her mount onward. The was a risky thing, to be out in this forest past sundown, and tricky business indeed to stay alive one you were captured. It was something she had to avoid above all else.
Her horse stopped abruptly then starting moving to the left of the path. He was veering off towards the dense brush of the forest. Was there something that she hadn't heard? She didn't think so. They were soundless in the quiet night, any sound made they were certain to hear. She tried urging her horse back to the center of the path, where it was most worn down and covered in hoof prints. That was when she saw it, a quick shining of metal as the trees overhead momentarily shifted in the wind to let the light of the moon down.
Nimbly, she dismounted and landed on the ground with a crack. Shit, she thought. A broken twig now lay snapped under her heavy leather-riding boots. The wind has ceased so not even the slight rustling of leaves could make cover for the sound that seemed to echo throughout the entire forest. The silence in the dark was overwhelmingly eerie now. Not a sound. She heaved a silent sigh of relief. Slowly, and watching her footing, she now moved expertly across the ground and knelt down beside the spot of suspicion.
Taking out a box of matches, she risked striking one. Cupping her hand around the flame to conceal the light as best she could, she surveyed the intricate groundwork that was before her. It was a system of fine ropes, no thicker than common thread, held tightly between thin blades about three inches wide protruding from the ground. They were set down in a pattern of rectangles, with one rectangle set on opposite sides of the path every couple of feet, connected diagonally by the same thread that connected the blades inside the rectangles. She removed one of her gloves and lightly set a fingertip on the top of one of the blades. She bled. She tried bending it, but despite the paper-thin construction, it held strong. She guessed it was made of some sort of metal. She then stood up and found a thick stick close to the side of the path. She moved further down, about ten yards ahead of where her horse stood, still unmoving, ears up, listening for her. She laid her body flat on the ground next to one of the rectangles and with slow precision dropped in centered over the rope.
Very quickly she was overwhelmed with a series of flashing events. The rope cut halfway through the stick in an instant before it slacked and the blades began glowing bright red up and down the path. She chanced a look back at her horse; one of his hears was twitching nervously. Then, in a delayed reaction as if to trick a passerby into security, a massive plank plated with arrows swung down from overhead barely grazing her back. A single arrow cut through the air in a high-pitched whistle.
And then she heard it.
Hoof beats.
Damnit. "Maiy!" The horse came swiftly, dodging the lethal framework of blades and rope, and continued to gallop as his rider leapt smoothly into the saddle. From the booming of the approaching hooves she estimated a mere minute before they were upon her.
Dismissing her previous tactics of silence, they now charged off the path and into the overgrown forest. Here the ground was harder and they could fly faster. It didn't matter if they were heard any longer, for she could almost feel them closing in around her. In the distance she heard a low rumble. The ocean. She was a lot closer than she had thought. Damnit. She had been so close. Another arrow whizzed past her. Shit, they were close. She could just see the breaking of the forest line now. Only a little farther. She had to force herself to not look back at the horsemen who were undoubtedly right behind her now. The closet rider couldn't be any more than a few feet behind her own horse. More arrows.
There was now a rider beside her, and she had an idea.
His bow was drawn, and he released; barely missing her as it stuck into her saddle. Grabbing the arrow and pushing out of the stirrups, she swung back out of the saddle and out, kicking him off balance. As he fell, she caught his bow in midair, swinging on to the now empty saddle of his mount. She then drew back the bow and turning around in the saddle, shot at her first moving target. She hit him. But it wasn't severe enough to dismount him. She dropped the bow and hastily uncovered her own from underneath her cloak, drawing from her quiver a fresh arrow. She hit him in the throat this time, and with slight satisfaction heard him scream mercy before his body fell limp from his horse. There were two riders left, and more were soon to be following. She noticed that neither of them had bows, apparently the first two were supposed to do the job, so she slung her bow over her shoulder and pressed forward. They were gaining on her, but she wasn't worried. She was nearly at the edge of the forest.

A/N: I know it kind of leaves you hanging there, and it was short, but I will get better. If you liked it, or if you didn't like it, please review and tell me what you think so far!