Caught off guard by the abrupt change in situation, I stumble as I step backwards, falling onto my butt. This proves fortuitous, as not a second later, the thrust of steel flies overhead, cropping the very tips of my wavy, brown hair. Adrenaline rushing, I scramble to my feet, trying to create distance between me and my assailant. The cabin is small, however, and there is little area for escape.

I dodge a second thrust and then a third, jumping over a table in my retreat, trying to maneuver my way towards the door. Lila apparently realizes my goal, however, and she places herself between me and the exit, cutting me off literally with a slash of her sword. I leap back, avoiding a fatal blow, with only my vest torn by the tip of her blade. Beads of sweat roll down my face, and I’m panting, my gray eyes darting around, searching for an alternative means of exiting the situation. Behind, footsteps as Lila approaches, slow, methodical, for she knows I have nowhere to go.

The footsteps pause.

I turn, finding her observing me, eyebrow raised. “I’ll say this much,” she begins, “For a kid, you have strangely good combat instincts.”

“Why are you doing this, Lila?” I ask. I don’t expect an actual answer. I’m merely stalling for time.

Lila shrugs. “You just inherited a bad situation. Unlucky, that’s all.” After her non-answer, she once again lifts her sword, preparing to strike, and I steady my balance, preparing to dodge. She comes at me with a backhand uppercut, her sword slashing diagonally low to high. I lean to the side to avoid it, then jump as she brings it around again, slicing at my ankles. My momentum carries me forward, and I break my fall with a roll, coming up to her right. Behind her, I can see the noonday sun, peeking in through the cracked window. Suddenly, an idea comes to mind.

I make a break for the center of the room, where on the floor lies the detached cabinet door, scooping it up by the handle as I skirt on by, while simultaneously avoiding another slash coming my way. Then I pivot, holding my makeshift shield before me. When Lila sees this, she offers me a smirk.

“That hunk of wood isn’t going to protect you against Engleton steel, kid.”

This time, it’s my turn to smirk. “Who said anything about shielding against your sword?”

My question drives a moment of contemplation into Lila’s mind, which is all the time I need. Spotting her hesitation, I make for the wooden bucket, striking it with the top of my foot, much as I would a soccer ball. This sends it soaring in her direction, straight towards her head, and while I doubt it’ll do any real damage, neither is that the point. Rather, it’s a distraction, literally blocking her vision of my true intent, namely, the window.

As soon as the bucket is sent flying, I pivot, and with a running start, I leap into the window. Already cracked, the window shatters, and I go flying through, the cabinet door acting to shield me against the explosion of glass. I land on the ground outside with a thud, momentarily disoriented, and then I’m on my feet, sprinting away. Behind, I hear the cabin door swing open, Lila yelling for me to come back.

Truth? I don’t. Madlad, I know. I keep running east through the forest, towards the direction of the town, and I’m about ten minutes in when suddenly, I hear something whiz by my head. When I turn to look, I see the shaft of an arrow, embedded into the trunk of a tree two feet to my right. I gulp, feeling lucky to still be alive. A voice calls out from behind.

“No use running, kid. I’m faster than you. You can’t escape.”

I keep running.