Chapter 3: Ambush

A/N: I know I said I won't be able to update. And I won't. But that will be tomorrow. Today I just wanted to get something up before my house gets tented. See? I am capable of being a good person. TOLD YOU SO, MOM!

Half awoke suddenly. Something didn't feel… right. Swinging his feet down from the cot, he got up, donning his armor. Half had a suspicion that something was about to go horribly wrong. And he wasn't going to just sit there and let it happen. Opening the maroon tent flap, he peered around, surveying the forest. A distant clanking could be heard. Satisfaction filled Half as he realized that he was right. Total paranoia is total awareness.

(A/N: Yes, that is a line from Kled. And yes, there will be more League of Legends references hidden throughout this.)

Dashing out of the trees, he jumped 20 feet into the air, feeling satisfied when the Empire's soldiers looked up in shock at the unexpected adversary. He estimated their numbers to around 1000. Yep. He had them outnumbered by 500 times their force. The world will again learn to fear the might of the Eternal. Half landed amid their ranks, crushing 3 men with the force of his impact. He drew his blades, the words Determination and Pain engraved at the base of the blade in a language that predates the world. Each blade was illuminated with its respective color, one casting a ruby light, the other casting shadows.

(A/N: Yes. It somehow emits light that is black. NO QUESTIONING! UNLESS IT'S A STUPID QUESTION THEN THAT'S OK.)

Half dashed between the soldiers, mowing them down like wheat. The amount of shattered weapons and cleaved bodies in Half's wake seemed endless. Every soldier that faced Half was cut down before they could react. With every kill, his eyes took on more of a blood red hue, and his need to kill grew. He subconsciously saw the vague shape of Saphira circling overhead, although she never landed to help. Not that he needed it anyway. After the last soldier was vanquished, he turned around, shuddering with the bloodlust of his soul. The red slowly left his eyes, which returned to their normal grassy shade. The cloud of rage slowly left its mind, and clarity returned to his vision. Sheathing his blades, he started to walk away. It's nice to have a sword that doesn't get dirty.

Half paid no heed to the shocked looks of the Varden. He simply walked past them, any questions or compliments went unheard to his mind, which was riddled with fatigue. He simply sat himself down against a tree and emptied his mind, meditating on the world and the functions of all he had come to know and understand in his many years of existence.

Eventually, his meditation turned into a fitful sleep.

It was a confusing sight, seeing this man, covered in blood and gore, sitting peacefully by a tree, asleep.

A/N: R&R! By the way, how did you like the fight scene and my attempts at humor? Reviewers get a dedicated chapter!