Chapter two - on the run

Khalifia ran. Her lungs hurt but she kept going. Thorns grappled the last remaining scraps she could've called leggings. She plowed through ripping her silken pants even further, if she had the time to think about it, she would've been amazed at the absurdity of how the thorns could manage to hit the scraps and not her legs. It was probably some enchantment that kept her from being scratched, but it would not last for much longer.

Khalifia had been on the run for three weeks now. Ever since the fateful day when her younger brother murdered their older brother, the crown prince, she had been running and hiding.

She had been away from the capital when suddenly her company of ‘loyal’ guards had attacked her. If not for one truly loyal maid she would've died to their assassination attempt.

Her maid had gotten word from the palace and had warned Khalifia that her life was in danger moments before her guard attacked her.

Their attempt would most certainly have been successful if their surprise attack had hit the princess, but with the failure to do so, the fight was much more even. She managed to kill most of the attackers, but a few managed to escape.

At that point she had been exhausted but still, she fled.

Three weeks later, she was both mentally and physically exhausted. Her pursuers found her two weeks ago, and since then she haven't had much time to either sleep, eat or simply rest for a minute. The last two days she had been attacked four times, and she suspected the mercenaries her brother had hired would continue to poke at her whenever she tried to rest, until she at some point collapsed and they could collect her head with less risk of their lives.

At least she killed a few every time they ’poked’ her.

She smiled despite her exhaustion. Next time they would attack, she would try to cut off the legs of one of them, hopefully it would slow them down more if they had to take care of an injured comrade.

They would attack soon, she was sure of it. They always attacked whenever she got close to a stream where she could get water, never allowing her the luxury of drinking. She usually managed to siphon a bit when she passed other streams and rivers, but never enough to satiate her thirst. Her thirst was still only a minor problem, more pressing was the matter of food. She hadn't eaten anything since her escape began. Elves had a strong constitution, and especially so of those with royal blood. They had to, otherwise they would die at a very young age.

Khalifia readied an Ethereal Lance, she wagered her last bits of power against the mercenaries methodical work patterns.

She was right, when she came within five meters of the stream, four elves appeared. They all had their trademark grey clothes with the white mark on the chest, signifying their neutrality and position as mercenaries. Three of them were armed with scimitars, and the last had an intricate looking staff with a carved wolf's head.

She fired her Ethereal Lance at the caster in an attempt to take out their magical support, but the Mage had readied some kind of barrier which took the brunt of the damage. The lance only managed to knock the caster a few meters back. The three swordsmen attacked right away, not giving her the time to prepare another Ethereal Lance.

Khalifia quickly drew her sword, a Mithril long sword gifted to her when she had been promoted to captain a few years ago. Back when both her older brothers had been alive, back when their family at least had pretended to like each other, back when life had been good.

With a quick slash, much faster than you would expect she cut at the closest mercenary. The sound of Mithril hitting steel could be heard, then a scream of pain followed. The mercenary fell to the ground, body twitching from the electrical shock Khalifia had channeled through her sword, toasting her opponent.

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Her gaze locked onto the next mercenary. With a quick step to the side, she evaded a thrust. With a quick pirouette she delivered a left hook, breaking the jaw and knocked her enemy down. Before she could do more she had to retreat as a pillar of fire erupted from where she was moments earlier.

“How can this be worth it for you? How many lives will you throw at me before you give up” she yelled, hoping they would give up for once “you won't kill me now, and you won't kill me the next time either, nor after that” she yelled angrily.

“Oh but we will kill you now, and even if we fail, our glorious Familia will kill you! We will collect the reward and cast away the shame tied to our name!” The caster yelled back “ALL GLORY TO THE VAPING FAMILIA!” he yelled before breaking into a manic laughter.

A quick Firebolt shot up his laughter, his defenses were down, so Khalifia exploited the weakness he had shown, there's no honor in a deathmatch, anything goes if you get out alive!

With only one swordsman left she made a feint, showing an opportunity before sweeping low cutting off the legs of the unfortunate mercenary.

Just before she left she remembered the knocked out swordsman. Two quick cuts left the man with two feet and a hand fewer.

The screams of pain could be heard as she continued her run north west. When she jumped over the stream, she used a spell that siphoned a bit of water from the stream, effectively letting her drink a bit without slowing down.

Her stomach growled, she could feel her power failing her. The accumulated fatigue from the fights showed its ugly face when she tripped over a root, something she never did. She caught herself but swore as thorns pierced her hands, it had been a bramble she instinctively had grappled to stop her fall.

She looked up, ahead of her the forest cleared up, she hoped it was the edge of the forest, not just another clearing as it always had been. She was headed to the northern mountains where there supposedly were a Riftgate, an artifact leftover from the human infestation a thousand years ago. To get there, she had to cross The Sea of Grass, a huge savanna that stretched from the great forest of Gerona, to the rolling hills of Trask. Trask would then slowly change into the mountain range known as Sleeping Mountains, named after a folklore about giants settling to sleep on top of a sleeping dragon.

Khalifia hurried onwards the afternoon light getting brighter the closer she got to the edge of the forest. It really was the Edge, not just a clearing but the border of the eleven, her rightful empire, but that didn't matter, what mattered was her pursuers would not be able to hide, nor would they be able to circle around her like they had done so earlier. Out on the plains, they would all be at a disadvantage. Hopefully she would be less hindered since she was alone.

They didn't attack the first day, nor the second. They were always visible a few kilometers behind her. Khalifia was almost ready to drop dead, she was sure they would attack if she slowed down or made any other indication that she was exhausted.

She looked over her shoulder, yup they were still there, keeping pace with her. How could they still keep up with her? She a royal heir, groomed for power and buffed with long lasting enhancements? Though the enhancements were all but gone, and her wast power were running on fumes and willpower.

Khalifia considered slowing down and force a confrontation. She had thought about it many times, but she still believed she would have better odds trying to outrun her pursuers rather than face them in combat. They too must be getting tired. At some point they would either have to give up, or increase their speed so they could catch up with her. She really wished it would be the first option rather than the latter.

She looked back, watched the men followed her, wait, isn't there missing four people? She was certain that there had been seventeen pursuers last time she checked, but now she could only see thirteen. Maybe they simply couldn't keep up? Khalifia could almost make herself believe it, almost.

While counting the pursuers she spotted one collapsing, hope started to fill her body with renewed energy. Maybe they would soon give up.

She turned to continue her trek, it had been a few days since she stopped running and started walking instead. The sun were draining her energy fast than when she were running under the foliage in the great forest.

Ahead of her four shadows were starting to form. Khalifia stared at them, her brain trying to figure out what it could be. Tiredly she unsheathed her sword, she didn't believe anything good would happen to her before she had a chance to rest.

She considered changing course to avoid the shadows, but chose to continue straight ahead. She figured if it was indeed an enemy, she might as well face them before her pursuers could catch up. If it turned out to be friendly creatures she would have more time to yconvince them to help her. All in all she convinced herself that it would be best if she reached the shadows sooner rather than later.