She stood, very still, in the shadow of the ruined tower.
The massive door was now wide open, no light came out from the depth of evil inside.
There, through corridors guarded by hideous titans, she knew the God King would be waiting, a corrupting and seductive smile on his lips.
There too, in the deepest, coldest dungeon, in chains, lied her brother, her lover, the knight she would soon free.
She had rehearsed every move, every corner of the sinister building, she could walk in blinded: but she would enter his domain, eyes wide open, the deadly sword firmly in her hands, a merciless warrior with an angel face.
The place should be familiar, but without him, it is as strange as her solitude. She looks at the rugged landscape, the desolate ruins, and the massive tower, the alien sentinel. Alone, she would now face the Enemy, in her hands his swords, in her heart his courage, and her eternal love for him. How is it, she thought, that I am immortal and he was not? And she knows the answer: he was human, and she no longer is.
Describe your ultimate escape plan (and tell us what you’re escaping from).
Long ago I trained here, and thus I know the place quite well. When they come for me, I am prepared: my body may be covered with bruises, but I still have my head. Those thugs have no idea of what awaits them!
They lead me along the corridors, as we pass cells deep in obscurity. I force myself to ignore the cries of the victims, their tears, the sounds of persecution and torture. For if I cannot destroy them totally, at least I can punch a blow that will set them back for a long time. The thought makes me smile.
They stop, as expected. As the lead guard moves towards the gate I move slowly and by stealth a few inches to my left: my position has to be right. The guard unlocks the gate and holds it open. My retinue and I walk through it. As the guard shuts the gate close behind us I jumped swiftly on a big slab in front of the high window to my right.
I hear the sharp sound of their swords as they hit the stone: I am falling down the vertical well, and as I look up I see the flames of the explosion that wipes out all living things in the corridor above my head. My body hits the water and for a few minutes I fear to drown, then I see the light, the little beach, and the launch prepared all those years back, before the Inquisition captures me. I know that the slab is back in its place, the ancient Magus’ magic still worked long after his murder.
They emerge from the rice-field, silent, black-clad, hardly visible, even by the birds watching them from high above the earth. The pale sun reflects timidly on their swords: an army of wraiths. In one column they march to the edge of the jungle, without a sound. Deep in the darkness they dive, their leader setting the pace, her steps unreadable to the beasts that track them, her face masked by the certainty of their immortality.