With pride forged ‘pon her shoulders, might embraced her with every step she took. Her shoulders rise and fell with the hallow’d breaths of yore, breathing into her body the age of wisdom that surpassed mere appearances alone… A youthful visage that was adourned with eyes that had seen so many battles– so much blood… but even the carnage before her compared not to that which she’d once witnessed. She was no stranger in the field of combat however, every fibre of her being, every muscle, every step she took was as natural as the brandish of her blade that sung of her victories with every slash. One by one the enemies fell, masked soldiers highly reminiscent of a /past/ she wished not to relive, but only she knew they hadn’t belonged, not rightfully here, in this place where many others called home.
And it was in that instant that she was bathed in moonlight, the gleam of a golden crown and the gentlest chimes of her armour speaking of the valour she wielded. In the center of a metropolis now surrounded by many an enemy, the King of Knights raised her arms, poised them before a wisp of wind flitted across the battle-strewn field, enemies waiting for /her/ to make the first move. She stood in a sea of soldiers, illuminated only by the rays of the moon that soon were blocked by the moving clouds…
The mangled voices of the soldiers rung like a haunting memory, their faces all frightfully ghoulish but their armour familiar to her. She’d fought them once before… in one of her ten victories as King.
It was the calm before the storm.
And it was in that instant that the throng of soldiers were easily disposed of– a brilliant light shining from her blade enabling her to speed past the masses in a blur of brilliance. She hammered through her foes like an unstoppable gale– lasting a mere few seconds… but even then more came from the alternative world, and she cursed and condemned the so-called 'scientists’ from bringing forth this calamity upon those who hadn’t deserved it.
A leap, and she removed herself from the treacherous hands of the enemies, landing upon the phone-lines before dashing– a blur of blue across the lines. She needed to move herself to a higher vantage point– one where she would able to cause the least amount of damage and not catch any innocents in the crosshairs of her fire. Her blade remained dutifully by her side, waiting for its master to release the winds that hid its identity from the world to see… Her body warned her of another presence– another enemy. She’d reacted quickly, descending from the phone lines in a burst of speed, blade brandished and ready to strike down the foe who’d taken out two others–
But ah, that was a mistake.
And before her strike could land, realisation dawned upon her like an inevitable upsurge, and instead of sword meeting flesh, it greeted the already mangled concrete. Body twisted, she careened harshly to the left to avoid landing her blitz, landing awkwardly but quite painfully on the soles of her feet, knees knocking harsh against the concrete. Saber slid a few feet past before coming to a halt… There was no denying who’d she’d seen– it was the same familiar shine of the spear of red, the same azure garment that spoke of the neighboring Hero of a legend well known…
Ah, how peculiar was Lady Fate?
Slowly ( shielding the pain that shot right through her legs from the previous impact ) she raised herself, verdigris eyes never once leaving the familiar silhouette of the Hound of Culann. Now was not the time for casual speech– there were still soldiers from that world careening their way across the streets of Hive city, the frantic sounds of their footfalls speaking of their proximity.
“Stay close,” a small murmur ‘neath her breath, and she turned her back to him.
