The snow had been bad this year and snow storms were almost constant out in this part of Kyr. Though this hadn’t deterred her from traveling at all, nothing really ever had. Not that she liked traveling through a blistering storm on foot, she just felt that staying in one place would be good for her.
The snow came down in large gobs of ice crystals and blanket everything around her. No that there was much to blanket, it was just flat land out here. Not a single object could be seen. This land was always covered with snow the ground couldn’t ever be seen not even in summer, unless you dug of course. She sighed, nothing ever really changed out here in the Kyr. At least in the Zye and some parts of the south the snow melted and one could tell that there was a slight change in the seasons. But here it was just less snow and less snow and no in between. Either way, this was still home to her.
The wind whirled around her, wiping her cloak about. The cold stung her face as she walked on through the thick snow half dazed. She’d heading south, to the port of Monouska for the rest of the land, save for in and around the Zye, was rife with war and she had spent two thousand years of her life participating in such things and no longer had any interest of getting caught up in them again.
Johanna had known what was down in Monouska and the southern coast, the Zymphrians had taken control of that entire area. For that she was proud of them though in the back of her head knew they were capable of much more than that. Rurik in his time had taught them well, though now she could only hope their new leader could lead them to greatness and victory as Rurik had forty years ago. She’d heard they’d been in the midst of a civil war soon after she’d left but now she been hearing they were under control of a vampire by the name of Lonlan Spara. Johanna could remember him, and quite clearly too. Young but brilliant he was, he’d also been one of Rurik’s children, and not unlike Johanna he’d been stronger than the usual fledgling. The power of Rurik’s blood she’d assumed. She supposed that on average he was of good age, but to her he was a mere child considering she was one thousand and eight hundred some odd years older than him. Perhaps she’d see him again when she reached Monouska, though she had no intention of staying.
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of hooves beating down on the snow. She looked up to see several men on horses had circled around her.
“Well looky here! Looks like another foolish one strayed into the desert!” The one in front of her called out in a mock slang that could be considered Currousian. She though him to disgrace the beautiful language with such disgusting jargon. Without a thought, her hand slid down to the hilt of her Makhaira and the other to her belt where many daggers sat in their fixed sheaths.
Another one called out behind her in a cooing sort of yell, though she didn’t turn just kept her gaze fixed straight ahead of her. The expression on her face went from totally blank to something menacingly predatory.
Suddenly she heard something cutting through the air she moved out of its path so fast their human eyes couldn’t register and she had seemingly disappeared for moment then appeared next to the horsemen to the right. She heard him draw his sword and he swung at her but before he could complete that swing her Makhaira seemingly appeared in her hand and she struck him down, slashing his throat. The smell of his blood was intoxicating and it had almost driven her into a frenzy but she gained control over herself quickly. Johanna then shot over to the next horsemen who, like the other one, had drawn his sword as was attempting a swing. With her eyes flashing red, she swung, chopping off his horse’s head and as it fell she cut his arm off and finally his head.
Johanna then straightened herself as she heard one of them charging, jumped in the other direction and when he went past her cut his horse’s leg in half. It cried out and collapsed and the man jumped off and approached her brandishing a sword. She then disappeared right before his eyes and appeared behind him. Johanna clamped down on his head and slit his throat then buried her face in the slash she had made, unable to control herself any longer having not fed a quite awhile. She fed quickly, but not quickly enough for she suddenly felt a severe burning in her back. Johanna tore away from the man and shrieked, clawing at her back before moving forward and feeling something slide out of her flesh. The pain was so great it made tears form in her eyes she then turned to see the horsemen who had been in front of her in beginning was now off of his horse and was engaging her.
He came at her quickly, quick for a human anyway, and swung striking her blade as she blocked it. The blade itself had been unlike anything else she’d seen before, it gave off a bright light purple glow that hurt her eyes to look at it, other than that it wasn’t really anything special. With her back burning, she felt herself weakening and it was becoming hard to focus. Goddamnit, she tried very hard to keep her mind straight but it was getting increasingly difficult as they continued with their sparring match. She was still quite a bit stronger than him however and quickly struck him down. As he fell, a gash across his chest and neck, she fell over him and sank her teeth into his flesh. As she started to drink that familiar burning sensation rose up in her chest near her heart. She made a small cry as his hand fell off of the blade and he closed his eyes as he died.
Johanna moved away from him about a foot and pulled the blade from her chest and threw it aside. She then fell forward as her sight suddenly became a dark grey tunnel that was getting darker and darker. The last bits of her mind began to fade away as she desperately tried to maintain her consciousness and get up, but failed. Her heart struggled to beat and her breathing became shallow as she slipped into forever lasting black hole that she feared she’d never come out of.
