"Who's there? Show yourself!" She peered into the darkness. There was something there, she could feel it. Her heart was racing. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she tried to reach out with her senses. There seemed to be a veil hiding this thing from her. She probed further. Not much luck. However, she sensed that this thing was in fact human. "I know you're there. I don't' know what game you're playing, but you should come out now." A voice answered from the black that surrounded her. "This is no game, in fact, it be deadly serious." She shuddered at the tone. So commanding. Almost with a hint of mockery or maliciousness to it. The laugh that accompanied the words chilled her to the core. Again she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It steadied her nerves, and slowed down her heart. Now she was ready. "What, no witty answer, no biting remark? Be thou afraid of the dark?" she almost burst out laughing. He had given himself away. His words cut sharply through the darkness and directed her to his position. Soft laughter escaped his lips. She gripped the pommel of her sword tightly. She followed the laughter, and as she came closer, it was as though the veil was lifted away. She sensed his exact location, and stealthily made her way in a circle around him, stopping at his back. "Still silent? Art thou paralysed with fear?" She had been steadily approaching his back. He had no idea what was coming. She struck out with precision and efficiency. Using the element of surprise she was able to disarm him, and overwhelm him. She knocked his legs from under him with a swift kick to the back of the knees. He screamed in agony as she bent his arms behind his back and held them there. He struggled to get his arms free, but she had a strong grip. Just as quickly, she bound his hands with rope allowing her to have one arm free. She pulled the sword from its place at her side. She heard him breath in sharply. He tensed all the muscles in his body, readying himself for the blow. She chuckled. With deft aim, she thrust the sword into the ground. It pierced the ground just in front of his knees. He gasped as he felt its cold blade touching his knees. She whispered words foreign to him. He was beginning to wonder what they meant, when he noticed a pinprick of light ahead of him. It started to grow and soon he could see that this strange glow was emanating from the pommel of her sword. He lowered his head to his chest. His longish hair covered his face, shielding his fragile eyes from the light. "I will unbind your hands, if you promise not to run or attack. I have no reason to hurt you, do not give me one." He nodded his head. She unwound the cord that bound his hands and carefully put it back in her pack. He staggered to his feet, sedate compared to his earlier state. "The light. please, it is bright." It dimmed immediately. He raised his head a little. The right side of his face was totally obscured by his jet- black hair. Only an eye gleamed from behind the curtain of ebony. The left side of his face was fair. His skin was reasonably tanned, his eye emerald green. He increased the distance between them, stepping back a few paces. "Do not be afraid. I do not wish to harm you. What is your name, stranger?" He noticed the strange way she looked at him, almost as though she was looking through him, or didn't know exactly where he was. "You can call me Jet. And I should thank you to return the favour." He continued to study her. She was wearing a cloak with a hood that obscured most of her face. Her hands and her chin were pale, and strands of purple hair poked from beneath the hood. Her pupils reflected the light, shining from the shadows. He could not tell what she was wearing as her cloak hid her body from view. She pulled the hood back revealing her face. "Then you can call me Misty." Her hair was silver with numerous purple streaks, and a silver circlet adorned her head. It was carved with intricate patterns; they might have been words, and a single purple stone was set in the centre. It was hard to tell her age; her skin was ageless, yet the aura she emitted was as old as the earth. She started to walk towards him. He was unsure of what to do; what kind of a threat she was. However, the smile on her face allayed his fears somewhat. As she came closer, he noticed that her eyes were a little strange. They were a peculiar shade of blue, with a slight hint of green. However, their colour was no the only odd thing about them. They were very pale, as though a thin veil was across them, or a mist. She stopped not far from him. This made him uncomfortable, he was not used to having people so close. She reached out a slender, milk white hand and brushed the hair away from the left side of his face, pushing it behind his ear. Her touch was gentle, her hand like silk. Cold silk. She ran her hand down the side of his face, feeling its contours. She stared him directly in his eyes, but he could tell she was not seeing him. She was blind. Her hand disappeared back into the shadows of her cloak. Even this close he could still not see beneath it. Her left hand emerged, and she lightly brushed the hair covering the rest of his face. He trembled at her touch and turned away. "Do not be ashamed of who you are, Jet." Her words were gentle as her hands, warm and full of empathy. She put her hand on his chin and tenderly but firmly turned his head back to face her. Her hand moved beneath the veil of hair to the face beneath. Her touch soothed the scarred skin as she moved her hand towards his eye. He closed his eyes as her fingers wandered across. "Your eyes are fragile, delicate as the fae's wings, precious as emeralds." His eyes snapped open. Her eyes were still staring into his, yet they were no longer veiled, but bright as jewels. But the silver mist soon covered them and she turned away from him. "They will grow stronger as the years pass." She pulled the sword from the ground and it too disappeared beneath her cloak.