Blade

The blade in his hands was held firm. No opening for me to cut the arms. I hadn't seen him swing before, but I knew I would barely have an opening then, either. He was hard, trained. I pressed my killing intent against him with as much fervor as I could muster. He stood before me, unflinching, a rock against the tides. His eyes saw me. No; they saw through me, entirely. In that moment, he knew everything I was capable of, and he was unshaken. In that moment, I felt fear for the first time in my long life. In that moment, I knew that I was going to die.