Mohini came to her senses as she heard the approach of footfalls on the cold stone of the floor on which she lay sprawled. Her arms were half stretched out above her, her wrists shackled together with heavy iron bands and secured with a length of thick chain to a metal ring set into the very stone of the wall. As the footsteps neared Mohini shook her head, clearing the lengths of long curling black hair from her face, letting her dark eyes scan around the room. Her weapons had been taken, of them she saw no sign, her leather padded armor was torn, two arrows protruded from her side, though they did not fully pierce her defenses.<br/><br/>Her mind raced back to the battle they had so recently fought, she had been on horseback, her horse, one she had known since childhood, befriended, trusted as she did only her family and teacher. That friend was now no more. Her mare had died during the last battle, killed by an arrow through her skull. Mohini fought back the tears at her loss, slowly replacing it with a gnawing anger. The fools that led them, the commanders of Amasya had led them into a slaughter. Would they not learn? They were led into ambush after ambush, constantly outfought by their foes, as had happened to her.<br/><br/>Five men. It was five men only. Before they even knew what was occurring it seemed half their number had fallen. Mohini herself had only shot a single arrow from the back of her horse, a skill all in her tribe knew as their lives and those of the reliable animals were linked so closely. That shot had been at a man dressed in all black, a terrifying figure on the battlefield. She was sure her single arrow would find its mark, but somehow, she missed, and then his arrow returned, striking her mare in the head, sending her to the ground. Miraculously she had not been much injured in the landing, leaping from the horse so as not to be trapped beneath it, but she landed hard on the rocky ground. She saw her companion had already passed, and whispered her goodbyes. Around her she could see only a few of her allies still standing, and on her knees next to her horse, she suddenly felt a wave of light-headedness pass over her and collapsed, an arm draped over her four hoofed friend as darkness claimed her.<br/><br/>Now here she was, a prisoner. A pair of strangely garbed men released the chain from the ring and hauled her to her feet, not bothering to be gentle in the slightest. Mohini did not cry out, she would not give them the satisfaction. She did not know where they were taking her, but she had no choice to follow, until they arrived in the room with the man dressed all in black. She had barely the chance to notice him before she was thrown to her knees by the men who led her, her body bouncing off the stone floor, and her chains making quite the noise as they scraped along the stone. Again though, she refused to cry out, instead as silence drifted into the room she could hear the sounds of cutting, the whimpering in the distance, the sounds of what was possibly going to be her fate, and Mohini knew fear. She looked up into the black eyes of the man who led those who captured her, and trembled.<br/>