Eye of the storm

Arianna stood her ground, though every pounding of the ground shook her to the bone and made her rattle in her skin. She remembered this power. She remembered this feeling of dread, of oncoming unstoppable doom and destruction. Every time before that she had felt it, she had run for her life. She had had no choice. But this time would be different. Now was the time to stand against the walking storm. If she wanted to protect her home, her kingdom, her people, then she would have to stand here and now and stop him before he entered once more into her kingdom's lands. 

He appeared from among the trees, his fists clenched, his eyes drawn tight as he glared at the princess. She knew that in his eyes she was nothing. She was but a target to be crushed, tossed aside to be trashed with the rest of the filth that had stood in his way. She had learned of his Araxian heritage, his rage for what her grandmother had done to his people. She knew that he wished his revenge upon her. That he believed destroying her would be enough to send her kingdom into turmoil, tearing them apart from the inside as he had witnessed of his own people. Arianna did not know if he was correct in that assumption, but she knew that if he discovered he was wrong, he would simply move on to another target, over and over again until his dream was accomplished or there was no one left. It was best he was stopped sooner rather than later. That was what Arianna had trained for. 

A dark aura appeared to lift off of the man's arms, as if a thick oil dripping from his skin. It was blacker than any black Arianna had seen, and it was almost a palpable anger coming off of him. Arianna could feel her skin standing up, the hairs trying to tear free from her, but still she stood her ground. She knew of his power. He was strong beyond human capabilities. He could bust through three foot deep stone walls with his bare hands without breaking a sweat. It required sharpness to do any damage to him - she had seen that when the wolf had assaulted him and torn through his skin. That had slowed his stalking for some time. 

She could only see him approaching for a few moments before the power shifted down into his legs and he bolted forward, each step launching him through the air and pulling him ever closer to the princess. And still, she did not turn and run. She could see the blinding hatred and anger in his eyes, the prayed for death of her, the irritation that she would not show fear. And then, as he fell upon her, his arm swung wide, aimed directly between her eyes. 

But his fist caught only air. The princess was gone, her clothes falling to the ground. And then she was there once more, a dozen feet back, naked as the day she was born, the defiant look in her eyes stronger than it had ever been before. 

She had stared into the eye of the storm and escaped to the other side. Now she just had to do it a dozen or so more times.