I would love to claim that when the High Priest's sword came screaming down, golden light carving a line straight for my skull, I met it with cool dignity and the unshakable composure of a seasoned warrior.
In reality, my entire brain shrieked something along the lines of oh shit while my body threw the spear up on pure reflex.
Sparks exploded between us, blinding, hot, like someone had shoved a forge in my face and then kicked me backwards through a door.
The impact ripped through my arms, down my ribs, and into the marrow of my spine, every inch of me singing with the kind of pain you only get when you've made several consecutive bad life decisions and the universe had decided to give you a single, very personal performance review.
I flew airborne, the world spinning in a haze before landing down, hard, my body bouncing once, twice, before I lay sprawled on the cobblestones outside our defensive circle.
