A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated this story in agggeesss! I'm sooo busy cos school work, you know how it is ;3; But I have made a vow to be more active so I'll try to post a new chapter every month. I had written this chapter before but forgot to upload it and sorry it's a bit short, the next one will be longer.
Much writers' block. Very cry. ;_;
CHAPTER 4 – SENSELESS
It was a kunai…
He felt the smooth sliver under the surface of his fingertips and traced the lining of the even handle. It felt familiar almost, yet the Prince knew he had never been injured by a kunai. The blood began to stain Ling's attire as his long sleeve dipped in the pool of scarlet, dying it
The young Prince gently removed the kunai from his foot and yet more scarlet liquid began to gush out of his wound. His eyes were watering from pain. Even so, he had been hurt a lot more than this before...
Just then, he heard short yet silent footsteps approach him. Ling's guard instantaneously went up as it may have been an assassin. So this is why I need a guard... he thought.
Whilst he lay on the floor, his mind began to wander (as every imaginative five year olds' mind does) about this Fu-caterpillar-giant he was supposed to find. His endeavour had transformed into a journey, and his journey had shape shifted into a nightmare. The Young Prince had never expected to be hit with a kunai, especially such a sharp one.
The footsteps began to become clearer as Ling tuned his ears into their rhythmic tapping on the crystal marble floor, now stained crimson with his blood. The person was close... and he knew it. Bleeding and in writhing pain, Ling managed to pull out his katana from his side (a real sword was too big for him and he kept dropping it on his feet every time he tried to carry it). He held it horizontally in front of him as he gripped the carefully crafted handle which contained the engraving of the Yao clan - the outline of flames - to represent the burning passion of the ancient Xingese tradition of Budoshi* [never surrendering] which the Yao clan pride themselves in.
The steps became clear as Ling attempted to sense the Chi of the advancing figure; it crept through the glinting silver rays which slithered through the opaque glass above the shrine.
He was prepared and well-equipped for any sudden movements or assassins. However, it was not an assassin…but it may well have been judging by their attire – a large mask lined around the eye holes with delicate streaks of black and red and a towering dark hood over I along with a matching ensemble of wide trousers and a shirt with a large, round collar that covered their neck. Suspicious…
Ling's tiny hand clutched the katana tighter. Who was this person? Surely if they were an assassin they would have advanced on him by now? He kept his eyes fixed on the looming figure in front of him; the Chi which belonged to them was of a female…he knew that much, but that was all he was able to gather.
The young Prince jumped suddenly as he saw the person's eyes widen under their mask as soon as they saw him. It seemed as though Ling had over-estimated his ability and was not prepared for any 'rapid' movement. He toppled backwards into the small puddle of scarlet, dying his yellow attire a deep, dark and rich wine-red. His katana went skidding across the marble surface and met the wall on the opposite side of the room with a short CLANG.