The Wanderer - Part Three

Part One (click here)
Part Two (click here)


PART THREE
The Priestess watched the Wanderer reach the edge of the clearing and disappear into the woods, and then turned to her chores with a twirl of contentment. With no one around to see her she allowed her smile to shine through. Washing her humble dishes took on a new life, knowing that she would have someone to share her meal with tonight. Then, with a devious smile she skipped over to the bed, which was in much need of straightening.

“You don’t need to tidy up just for me.” Growled a voice that sent horrifying chills up her spine.

She spun around and saw a man she had hoped she would never lay eyes on again. The Bandit stood tall and ominous, clad in black armor. Armor so dark it looked as if it had been cast from pure evil, forged in terror.

“What are you doing here? You were banished from this place!” Shouted the Priestess, assuming a defensive stance.

“I’m here for my sacred crystals,” sneered the Bandit. “And you won’t stand in my way.”

“They’re not yours,” she said with conviction, taking her broom in hand. “And you will not lay a hand on them.”

“Oh they’re not?” questioned the Bandit. “I’m the one that stole them, that is, until you stole them from me.”

The Priestess snapped the head of the broom from the handle and steeled herself in front of the enormous door. Menacingly, the Bandit walked toward Priestess and watched as her eyes slid off his pitch-black armor.

“I’ve devoted my life to protecting them,” she warned. “Especially from you.”

The Priestess waited.

She waited for him to step within striking distance.

Step by step she drew him in.

“Out of my way, witch.” The Bandit snarled.

With that the Priestess struck the side of the Bandit’s head. With pain ringing through her hands she saw the anger in the Bandit’s furrowed eyes. Drawing back his leather clad hand he struck her, throwing her to the ground and away from the door. He didn’t watch where she landed, but he didn’t care, he was fixated on the door.

“Cute lock,” He chuckled, drawing the dark blade from its sheath.


She screamed for him to stop as the blade stabbed into the lock, shattering the steel. The Bandit laughed as he tugged his sword free from where it was embedded in the door.

“You soulless bastard,” she screamed, lunging at him with the broom handle. She jabbed the handle hard into his side, but the armor absorbed the majority of the impact.

“Whore.” The Bandit stated, striking her with the hilt of his sword.

The blow knocked her to her knees, and in that moment she was defenseless. She attempted to grab hold of her senses while she looked up into the heartless eyes of the Bandit; he drew his sword over his head. A look of joy shot across his face as he targeted her head for his strike. With all his might he swung the weapon, time slowed to a stop for the Priestess as she closed her eyes to the impending strike. Her mind drifted to the Emerald Of Wisdom and the Jewel Of Innocence, she thought of how she would not see them reach their true potential. Her heart ached with the thought of failing her charge.

PART FOUR


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com