The wind tore apart, its whistles singing through the air as a chorus to the woman’s blade. The clash of metal drove the nearby wildlife into hiding. Sweat rolled down her neck from exertion, a tax payed for her life. Her gleaming spear parried blow after blow, driving her foe into a desperate defense. 

Mirabelle stepped forward, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. Her eyes pierced the creature before her. They changed stances; her spear poised for a deadly strike, the demon’s sword shifting into a protective guard. Neither moved. The only sound disturbing the quiet of the forest their quickened breaths. A branch, nicked by an earlier slash, fell to the ground.  Read complete version only at novęlfire.net

The air trilled once more. After one more move, it was over. Mirabelle flicked her spear to the side, flinging a sheen of blood from the blade. Her feet carried her towards her objective, impatient and uncaring of her fatigue; the headless corpse of her enemy the only evidence of her passing.

A flash darted through the forest, hopping from branch to branch. Mirabelle swiftly climbed a tree to secure a view of her target. Had she not known these woods since childhood, the distant clearing in the forest could be taken lightly. Mirabelle knew different. 

The city Leyland had been her home since birth, and she’d roamed the surrounding areas extensively after she’d joined the Adventurer’s guild. The vast expanse of empty woods… should not have been there. She moved closer, fear gripping her heart. Her feet danced across the thin branches silently, leading her to a closer raised position. 

Her stomach dropped. In the unnatural clearing, a camp of several hundred demons sprawled across the forest like rot on bread. Her lips tightened in anger, but now was not the time for action. Mirabelle tugged one of the numerous bottles attached to her belt and drank it in a few short gulps, restoring her stamina. She had to let the guild know. Leyland was in grave danger.

Moments later, she was gone.