My Sword Cuts You A Path

His face is masked by a veil, as is mine, as we face each other in the throne room, under that overly elaborate carved archway. It is made of black quartz, and carved to resemble a colossal woman with her back arched, and her hands almost reaching the ground, which are sprouting vines of peonies made of white quartz, that touch the ground and spread out there. The throne room is vast, and the walls are made from a white wood that shines polished in the sun pouring from the blue stained glass windows. Two massive thrones sit atop a raised platform, in the middle of a large koi pond with a little bridge to get to the elaborate seats. A crowd is seated in the audience, and everyone is in audible silence as the priest fumbles for his notes. I, Lana Himmerer have been plucked from my home village, where I lived on the dirty streets, and taken as the bride of Ihan Shifta, who is said to be a noble and merchant, who travels the world as often as he can, and has now been brought to the Dense Forest. I settle my eyes anywhere but Ihan, as the priest drones on. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Today we are here to make two kingdoms into one allegiance, over this happy-” He stresses that word, “-marriage. Now, let us make this quick, shall we?” Everyone nods, clearly waiting to be released from this stuffy hall. I sigh, and block the words from the priest out of my ears. Finally, he hands Ihan a beautiful ring, in the shape of a dragon that will soon coil three times around my finger. It is made completely of jade, besides the big eyes which are made of cut diamonds. “Do you, Ihan Shifta, take Lana Himmerer, soon to be Lana Shifta, to be your wife?” “I do.” I extend my hand, and he slides the ring onto my delicate ring finger, as he does, muttering, “I promise to love and to cherish you, Lana.” Then I hear a SMASH! And the doors bang open. There is a moment of shocked silence, and then the screaming begins. Everyone flocks to the back of the room, while the snow settles, and one figure stands in the doorway, the man clutching a wicked sword, and wearing a steel mask made to look like a snarling tiger. He is also wearing long black robes, embroidered silver, with a crest painted onto the front. A tiger roaring to the sun. His hair is long and silky blonde, in a similar style to Ihan’s, but Ihan’s is past his hips, and raven black. Ihan hisses, “Samurai.” Then, he growls, and rips off his mask, drawing a sword from the belt of his robes. I see his face for the first time. His eyes shine like steel, and have a laser-like focus. He has sharp cheekbones and lips I imagine sliding silky against my own. His skin is white as milk, but his arms are muscled, and I can see his muscular torso through the sheer silk he wears loosely around his chest. The sword he draws is magnificent. It is folded steel, and shines like silver. It has a hilt of pure gold, wrapped in light fabric molded to the metal. The samurai’s eyes narrow, and he begins to advance on Ihan, surveying him for weaknesses. I notice that Ihan is doing the same, though he is sitting in the same spot, feet firmly planted on the ground. The samurai finally stops in front of Ihan. My breath hitches. I am so scared. I feel as if my heart is going to explode. Then, the samurai cuts his sword blindingly fast through the air. There is a clash as Ihan brings his elegant sword up effortlessly. He swings it again, but Ihan blocks. They go on like that until the samurai kicks out, meaning to catch his foot on Ihan’s knee, but Ihan catches his boot, and twists it back, and I hear a gross pop as his leg goes completely crooked. Then, Ihan strikes again, sinking his blade effortlessly into the samurai’s chest, then carving a bloody message into him, while the samurai spills his guts out of his mouth. Then, Ihan drags the man across the room, drapes him over the rump of his horse, and then smacks the creature’s behind, sending it neighing and running full speed into the distance.