Snippet #2554416

Eilin wasted little time in following through with the attack. The point of the spear came down and for a moment she thought she had him. As he moved, however, he was able to deflect the weapon sideways. Instead, the sharp blade embedded into the snow beside his head and the next second he had her wrists in his grip, her form hovering over him with all of the tension and determination of a bristled wolf. If she were an animal, her fur would undoubtedly be standing on end, her teeth bared. As a mere human, however, all she could do was return his gaze with a glare that would burn clear through him if it held such power.

She made an attempt to rip her other wrist out of his grip, but it was to no avail. He had her captured. She swore silently to herself. She knew she should have put on her arm guards that morning. Her wrists were small and narrow naturally. Easy to grab and hold onto. With added padding of the arm guards, he would have had a much tougher time of it. However, it was too late for such things.

The demon, meanwhile, seemed loathe to keep silent for more than a minute. His proposal that followed caused her grip on the spear to tighten. Her first instinct was to throw a snide remark back at him. She didn't need her pride stroked. Not by the likes of him at any rate. Though his words suddenly froze her in place.

"Why don't we call it a match sweetheart?"

It was that sentence that finally placed the last piece of the puzzle into place in her mind. She may as well have not heard the rest.

~~~~~

"Why don't we call it a match sweetheart?"

An eight year old girl scrambled to her feet, dragging a thick branch of wood up with her as a laughing young man made his way over to her. She narrowed her eyes at his amusement, yet mirrored in her gaze was laughter and excitement. She couldn't hide it as well as she might have liked.

"Afraid you can't beat me?" she challenged, brandishing her make-shift sword in his direction. They had been sparring, if you could call it that, for over 2 hours now. Ever since her mother allowed her outside after they had their mid-day meal. Sverre - or older brother as she had come to think of him - had been enjoying the day when she had unceremoniously grabbed him and dragged him off into the forest in search of the perfect stick for her 'weapon'. Her last one had broken just the previous day.

Now, she looked up at him with all the guile of a tired but happy kid. Her black hair was disheveled, the curls knotted into something akin to a rat's nest. She had dust and dirt covering a good portion of her face and hands. Her clothes were caked with drying mud from the puddle she had fallen into about an hour previously. No doubt, her mother would reprimand her later, but just then she didn't care. She wanted to get a good victory in.

"Is that a challenge?" Sverre questioned, his eyes narrowed. Eilin knew she had him there. It was how she got him to do things he had no interest in doing. Simply by challenging him.

"Maybe," she shrugged her shoulders, grinning. "Unless you're too chicken that you'll lose."

Eilin turned around, intending to walk away with her own little victory. Perhaps leave him bemused. What she hadn't expected was for a pair of arms to grab her from behind. She yelped and dropped her 'sword' out of surprise as he swung her around and the next moment they were both falling. Sverre cushioned her from the ground as they collapsed in a mass. Eilin burst into laughter that she couldn't contain anymore as she twisted around, struggling to get free of him. But he had her held tight.

~~~~~~~~

Just as now, his grip held her pinned down.

"Sverre..." Eilin breathed out. It was barely a whisper and was not a question. Her gaze flickered over his features as if finally seeing him for the first time. There was recognition there. The eyes. The nose. The set of the jaw. Even that shaggy mop of hair. It was the same as in her memories of an old life. A life that was no longer her own. He looked... the same. Perhaps a little older. Not an adolescent growing into his adulthood but a young adult, fully grown.

For a short few seconds, surprise overtook her features. Then, the corners of her lips pulled upwards into an uncertain smile. Eilin didn't realize it but she had begun to relax slightly. She almost looked glad. Relieved to see him. She had thought him dead along with the others. Had he escaped the same as she had?

Then, all at once, realization hit her. Her thoughts shifted almost visibly and her smile faded. The relief was short-lived. The tension returned, her gaze hardening and her lips pursing into a scowl as the wheels in her mind ground to the inevitable conclusion. A demon... He had been a demon all along. Which meant-

Her train of thought was cut short as a whistling caught her attention. A small projectile flew at her from her right. Eilin moved her head just in time and it missed its mark. Only a second later did she realize that it was her own throwing knife that she had launched at Sverre minutes ago. She only took a moment to glance to the side before quickly juping into action, pushing her feet off the ground.

With the aid of her spear and Sverre's own hold on her, she somersaulted forward and over him, locking her hands into fists and wrenching her wrists free of the demon's hold. In part, she was staking the success of this on his own surprise. If he managed to not let go, chances were that she would suffer injuries from the sudden move. As soon as she had her hands free, however, she let go of the spear and landed into a roll. Swiftly, she released one of the knives that were hidden in her boots, grabbing the hilt and rising just in time to run into another demon.

How fast he had gotten there, she couldn't tell. The first thing that registered was a sharp blade, that he was holding, held at her neck-height. It was at the last minute that she managed to bend back enough to pass under the weapon, sliding to a stop behind him. She spun around, striking out with the knife. The demon turned and blocked to prevent the blade reaching his side. Yet the steel came away with blood from his arm. He swung at her with his sword, forcing her to duck under the attack.

Everything happened quickly. The demon struck at her, forcing her to fall back. Eilin made to slip by him once more, but he moved quicker. Next thing she knew, his free hand wrapped around her neck, his fingers closing harshly as he slammed her back against the crumbling wall of what was once a tavern. The impact knocked the breath out of her, causing her to drop the knife into the snow. Unlike Sverre's more amused nature, this demon was truly savage and dangerous, his black eyes glinting maliciously.

"Thought you could survive through the night, did you human?" he growled. In the back of her mind, Eilin registered his question to mean that he was a scout, sent by the pack of demons that attacked the village the night before. Most likely there to look for survivors. He glowered at her as she gave a cough, her breath intake restricted against his hand.

"My odds for survival are better than yours... demon," she got out right before another cough overtook her. His hand tightened and he laughed, towering over her. It wouldn't last long. Eilin knew this. She just needed to stay standing for another half a minute. Once the poison would take hold, he would forget all about her. For now, he remained oblivious, turning to Sverre and smirking at him as he sized him up once.

"Did you plan on finishing the job?" he asked, tilting his head toward her. His tone of voice suggested that he was mocking his skills and strength.