The ground-shaking crack of thunder ripped through the night, a sound so immense it seemed to tear the very fabric of the sky. In the same instant, a blinding, electric white flash of lightning clawed across the darkness, illuminating the rain-slicked alleyways.
For a fleeting second it revealed a girl no more than nineteen, her cloak whipping around her as she ran, her bare feet slapping against the grimmy wet pavement. The rain plastered her cloak to her thin frame as she sprinted through the alley. She risked a desperate glance over her shoulder, confirming the relentless pursuit of a tall, dark figure.
Her gaze snapped forward just as a sickeningly high-pitched whine drilled into her ears, followed by the acrid smell of metal. Her unusual green and blue eyes widened, locking onto the incoming threat, with a desperate scramble, she slid low on the slick pavement, her free hand slamming down to support her weight. In a agonizing slow motion the blade narrowly missed, shredding the hood of her cloak instead, embedding itself on a nearby metal trash bin, revealing a shocking burst of her silver hair.
She was on her feet in an instant, abandoning the alley. Her bare feet pounded over the slick ground, a relentless, deperate rhytm. It felt like hours, but after only a few agonizing minutes, the grime of the empire dissolved into the wild edges of Scylla, the dark mass of Scyl Forest beckoning. She faltered for a moment, chest heaving, then forced herself onward, bare feet sinking into soft grass, and a squelching mud clung to her cloak.
'Just a little bit more.' she thought, the words a raw whisper in her mind, her legs heavy, dragging. Then a sudden sickeningly sweet scent filled the forest - an unnatural blend of roses, sharp iron and the unmistakable tang of fresh blood. Her breath hitched in her throat. Before she could even fully process the dread. A cold metal scraped her ankle, she cried out, stumbling, then tumbling down a treacherous, muddy slope.
Her hand instinctively shot out to grab something, anything, but her hip only slammed hard against a jagged stone. Reaching the bottom caked in mud and utterly spent. A gasp tore from her throat as she staggered to rise, her bare ankle erupting with a sickening gush of warm blood, the pain in her hip made it hard for her to breath. She sank back with a whimper as the pain started to lace up from her ankle to her leg. Her trembling fingers found the pocket of her cloak, drawing out a delicate white lace handkerchief. The contrast of it's intricate pattern against the spreading crimson and dark mud was heartbreaking. Woven into it's core was a small, vibrant red and gold twin-headed dragon, a cherished token, the last tactile linked to her late mother.
Tears, silent and hot, mingled with the rain on her cheeks as she bound the wound using a handkerchief. After a long, shuddering breath, her sobs faded. She wiped her face with back of her hand, with a renewed, fragile resolve, she then began to tremble to her feet as her ragged breaths were punctuated by a single feverent wish ; Let this nightmare end.