Striker's Promise
The dew of the early morning swept across the field, sparkling from the moonlight. Evan dug his feet into the soft ground, lifting his sword at the ready. His opponent was stoic, unconcerned with Evan’s sword.
“Take this!” Evan yelled, charging his opponent.
Revenge That Isn’t
"Sophie?" King Vantrune said, holding her against the wet soil with his blade at her throat.
"I'm not Sophie you dolt," the woman said, knocking his blade away from her throat.