I haven’t touched this since NaNoWriMo, but figured I’d join in on the blogfest last minute. New year, new motivation. This is from The Minotaur Staff, a (mostly) modern supernatural adventure.
Akua gave out a battle cry of her own, feinted, and as he put down his horns to block her blow, she kicked out, slamming her foot toward the injured leg. Light flashed in her face, but she heard bone crunch. What stupid trick was this? She felt her opponent fall and put a foot on his torso, aimed her sword at his neck. No magic would keep her from her win.
The form beneath her became clear as the light faded. Her foot rested on a naked chest, but her opponent had changed. Shrunk. This man had no bull head, but a man's face and long hair the color of wheat. The arena was gone, replaced with a square room. Strange objects, fireless lights.
Akua pressed her sword into the man's neck. "What magic is this? Are you an illusionist? Am I drugged?"
The man groaned.
She pressed the tip harder, until blood came. "Who are you?"
He took a breath and coughed, pointing at her foot. Must be hard to answer with her obstructing his air. Very well. She stepped back, but kept her sword ready. "Speak!"
He sat up and cried out. "Shit. What did you do, break my leg? And how did you get in here? Didn't I lock the door? This is my room. You're the one who should be answering questions." He winced as he pulled himself up to sit on the bed. An object fell out of his hand as he supported himself.
"The Oracle's Eye! Forgive me, I did not realize."
He frowned and rubbed his head. Then said something in gibberish. Must have hit his head when he fell. She picked the Eye off the floor. "Where is your staff, Oracle?"
He shook his head. "That I understand. What did you say before that?"
"I am sorry for injuring you, Lord. I asked your forgiveness. Then you spoke gibberish. I am glad it was only temporary." She frowned. "Or was it one of your spells?"
"No, you're the one who spoke gibberish. Whatever. Give me that artifact. I need it."
"The Eye? Of course." His hand was as death against her dark skin. She had never seen an oracle, or any Atlantean, with such skin.
"What are you doing here?"
"I know not. I was fighting in the arena, triumphing over my opponent. Then the light came, and I was here. I assume you summoned me somehow, Oracle. What have I done to displease thee?"
"Oracle? That's the second time you've called me that. What arena? You look like you came out of a history book."
"You are no Oracle?" She lifted her sword. "Then you have no right to that. Are you even an Atlantean?"
His eyes widened. "Atlantean? Like Atlantis?"
"I meant not the Atlantis. The city of Atalanta. Are you from either?"
"I didn't even know they existed. Atalanta lived thousands of years ago."
"Do not lie about Queen Atalanta! Rise and I shall take you to her and the Oracle. You will be punished for your theft and blasphemy. Give me back the Eye."
"No! This is my key to freedom from my debts."
"You took me from my battle, my chance to win freedom for myself and my family! Give. It. Back." She raised her sword and pressed it to his throat.
"Whoa, that's sharp."