Chapter 5

With a thunderous crash, the bandits assaulted the carriage, their resolve evident in the way they hammered at the door. Splintering wood yielded to their persistent blows, and with a final push, the door swung open, revealing the huddled figure of Princess Ona within.

The princess, her heart racing with fear, shrank back into the furthest corner of the carriage, her eyes wide with terror as the bandits loomed over her. Their eyes glinted with cruel sneers, illuminated by the permeance of sunlight from the damage the carriage had seen, as they leered at her with malice.

"Look what we have here, boys," one of the bandits jeered, his voice dripping with contempt. "A trembling little princess, all alone and defenseless."

Another bandit chuckled darkly, stepping forward to loom over Ona, his breath hot against her skin. "What's the matter, princess? Lost your royal composure?"

Ona's hands shook as she clutched at the folds of her gown, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Though she longed to stand defiant in the face of her captors, fear held her in its grip, rendering her powerless before their mocking gaze.

The bandits, emboldened by the princess's visible distress, closed in around her, their taunts growing louder with each passing moment.

As the bandits reveled in their perceived victory, instinctively, Ona reached for anything she could find to defend herself. Her hand closed around a heavy object—a jeweled ornament that adorned the carriage's interior. With a panicked swing, she struck out, and to her horror, the blow connected with an assailant's temple, sending him crashing to the ground, motionless.

Shock washed over Ona as she realized what had happened. She had never taken a life before, and the weight of it settled heavily upon her heart. But there was no time to dwell on her actions; the other bandits closed in swiftly.

Another bandit made a move towards her. With a powerful leap, the captain emerged out of focus, covered in blood, his sword flashing in the sunlight. In a single, fluid motion, he struck with precision, his blade finding its mark with deadly accuracy.

As the clash of steel rang out beneath the canopy of the forest, the captain found himself surrounded by the remaining bandits, their eyes gleaming with malice. With a steady grip on his sword and a fierce resolve in his eyes, he braced himself for the coming attacks.

Despite the bandits' increasing numbers, they closed in on the captain from all sides, their blades catching the sunlight with menacing glints. However, the captain remained undaunted; years of rigorous training had sharpened his skills to perfection. Even as he bore ghastly wounds and likely bled to the last drop, he confronted his adversaries with a steady stance.

The first bandit lunged forward with a wild swing, but the captain parried the blow with ease, his movements fluid and precise. With a swift counterattack, he struck out, his blade slicing through the air with deadly accuracy. The bandit staggered back, clutching his wounded arm, but before he could recover, the captain pressed his advantage, delivering a decisive blow that sent the bandit tumbling to the ground.

Meanwhile, two more bandits moved in from the side, their swords raised high. the captain spun to meet their attack, his sword flashing in a dazzling display of skill. With deft footwork and lightning-fast strikes, he held his own against the onslaught, parrying blows and delivering counterattacks with unwavering focus.

Ona exploited the distraction and pushed open the carriage door and stumbled out into the darkness of the forest. Branches scraped against her robe as she ran, the sounds of pursuit echoing behind her. She dared not look back, fear lending wings to her feet as she darted deeper into the woods.

As the skirmish between the captain and the bandits raged on, Ona, fled as swiftly as her legs could carry her. The clash of swords, the shouts of battle, each echoing through the stillness of the forest. But amidst the chaos, there came a momentary lull, a silence that pierced through Ona's heart like a dagger.

In that haunting stillness, she heard it—the unmistakable sound of a final, desperate struggle. The princess's breath caught in her throat as the reality of the situation dawned upon her. The bandits had overcome the valiant captain, their blades finding their mark in his defenseless form.

Terror gripped Ona's heart as she listened, her mind refusing to accept the brutal truth unfolding just beyond her sight. She dared not turn around, dared not face the grisly scene that awaited her. For in that moment of harrowing silence, she knew that her protector, her guardian, had fallen. She was alone.

She kept running.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she raced through the tangled undergrowth. Branches whipped at her face, scratching her skin, and roots seemed to rise up from the earth to trip her at every turn.

Behind her, the sound of twanging bowstrings filled the air, and Ona could feel the rush of air as arrows flew perilously close to her, narrowly missing their mark. Some embedded themselves into the trees just inches away, sending splinters flying in all directions.

But just as she thought she might escape her pursuers, a sharp pain seared through her shoulder, and she stumbled forward, crying out in agony. Glancing back, she saw an arrow protruding from her flesh, its cruel barbs digging deep into her skin. Summoning all her strength, Ona gritted her teeth against the pain and pressed on, her will outweighing her fear.

With every step, she could feel her strength waning. Each stumble sent jolts of pain shooting through her body, but Ona refused to yield to the ache. She stumbled and fell, her gown torn and muddied, but each time she hit the ground, she rose again, strong will to escape impending death etched into every line of her tear-streaked face.