Chapter 1: Darkness And Beasts

Darkness enveloped the cellar like a shroud, draining every last bit of joy and hope out. In its place, it left behind a void filled with isolation, sorrow, and despair, consuming all that was good and spewing forth all that was wicked and evil. The only sources of light was that of moon light emanating from a small window and a nearly extinguished torch that flickered faintly, casting a small glow near the cellar bars.

I stand from a stone structure intended to be a bed, and walk towards the cellar bars, extending my arm through the narrow gap. Deep scars litter my pale arm and hand as I reach for the torch. Failing to grab it, my hand falls to my side, revealing even more scars on my legs and feet as the fabric drapes along with the motion of my falling hand.

With a sudden angry sigh, I smash my forehead against the bar, with enough force to cause the thin cloth hood to come off, I then begin to look in the reflection caused by the moon and stone floor, beginning to gaze into it and see the image of a gaunt, dirt-streaked blonde human woman with crimson red eyes looking back back me.

"Ouchie, ouchie," I mumbled to myself, as I'm rubbing my forehead where I had bumped it into the cellars bar. As I continue to rub my forehead flakes of dirt and skin fall off. I continue this as I'm still gazing into the reflection of myself and stop.

A soft sigh escapes from my lips as I turns and walks back into the darkness, letting it envelop me once again. I begin pan the room before my gaze settles on the small barred window. I proceed to walk towards the small window located on the side of the cellar opposite the bars. I then gaze out the window and look into the beautiful night sky filled with many stars, my crimson red eyes sparkling as they wonder the star filled sky. I remain standing, gazing into the sky, before briefly... looking down at my tattered, grimy garment given to me upon arrival, it stinks and is caked in mud and dirt. 

Scarred on my arms, hands, legs, and feet I begin to gently traces my fingertips over the wounds while not looking away from the night sky as I remember each of them and how I got them. I continue to gaze up at the double moon continuing to trace my scars before finally glancing away towards and settling on my uncomfortable stone bed, preparing to attempt to sleep. As I drifts off, thoughts of longing for rescue flood my mind, also with memories of my brothers, father, eldest sister, and mother flickering through my mind until I eventually fall sound asleep.

Later in the night after I finally fell asleep, an explosive sound jolts me awake, startling me and the other slaves from their deep sleeps. Sounds of the slavers panicking and yelling overwhelms me with anxiety and fear, I becomes detached, zoning out, my sweating increases and my breathing become extremely heavy, I then recognize the all-too-familiar sounds of a siege in the process. For what only seem like moment passes but when I zones back into reality again all I can hear are screams, cheers, and shouts coming from inside and outside the prison.

"Yeah get them, go kill them all" A slave screams out the window from the cellar over, banging and throwing whatever he could out it. "They deserve to all die" he yelled again shaking the bars on the window vigorously. 

"Yeah and get that one other there, he's fleeing" A different slave screams. "woooooo, yeahhhh!!" the same slaves cheers in unison.

Slaves cheers continue as armored knights on horseback, with archers in support and infantry leading, start to overpower the slavers. Looking up, hesitantly I rise from my stone bed, walking cautiously towards the window and peek out upon the scene. My blood crimson eyes are then met with a massacre: the streets are flooded with blood and bodies, limbs scattered, and blood flowing like a river of wine.

The disparity in swordsmanship, gear, and, combat tactics between the knights and the slavers is noticeable, even to my untrained eyes. I doesn't know where to look, the action is taking place in many locations its hard for my eyes to keep up. The battle continues and many lives are lost, the knights begin to push and corner the slavers back to the prison, this was the final fortress available to the slavers to home their last stand against the aggressing knight army. 

The slavers successfully resisted the cavalry's assault from within the prison, resorting to any means necessary for survival, throwing away the last bit of honor they held. After a sort amount of time both sides were at a stalemate, with the knights hesitant to send more of their men into a death trap. While watching I began to lose hope, that is until a small person in a white robe, his face obscured, hobbled toward the prison, holding what appeared to be a very large stick. The man waves the stick in the air, until the stick launches a fiery arrow-shaped attack towards the prison.

The slaves shriek and scream after seeing a firebolt being hurtled towards us. I though stood there emotionless, captivated by the beauty of the flaming arrow I had never before witnessed such a phenomenon. The fiery arrow smashed into the prison's massive door, blasting it wide open, shaking the entire prison, and scattering stone and dust in all directions.

Coughing sounds were soon heard after, followed by the raising of a white flag by the slavers. Knights quickly swarmed into the prison, capturing the remaining slavers and dragging them out and throwing them into wagons. As I continue to observe the slavers being imprisoned, the loud clashing of chainmail and metal fills my ears as knights storm into the dungeon through the main door, and began questioning and aiding other slaves. Amidst this, footsteps were heard, not of a knight's armored boot, but of a soft silk slowly coming closer to my cell.

The footsteps stop and a raspy deep voice can be heard from behind me. "What's your name sir? and would you like to tell me how you ended up in such a dreadful place!"

I then whirl around from the window to verify that the speaker is indeed the same man who had fired a flaming arrow from a very large staff at me. Upon facing him we both surprise each other, I look and identify an elderly man, likely in his seventies, clad in a white robe with gold trim and has a unique symbol on the right side of his chest, he's also leaning on what appears to be that same very large stick that the fiery arrow shot from. The old man is, scarcely five feet tall, reeks of alcohol, and has grey hair and a long grey beard. 

"My name, it's Chiyoko, sir," I exclaim, my voice trembling, weak yet graceful, bowing slightly as my words may not be audible to his old ears. "I am sorry, but I don't remember much." I explain coldly while still bowing my head to him.

"My apologies, my lady; I didn't realize you were a woman, while you were facing away from me. I hope I haven't offended you in any manner, and Please raise your head." a small awkward silence covers the cellar before the old man speaks once again "Please, come out of that dark place so I may have a better look at you," the old man said as he began to unlock the cellar door without a key.

The bone chilling creak of the cellar door makes the old man flinch a bit. Though I stood there, my uncertainty about this man is evident to him. As he steps into the cellar, I flinch and step back as he steps closer, I then begin leaning against the furthest wall near the window. Unfazed, the old man looks puzzled and lost in thought before, with a gentle motion, he began to unfold a blanket before me gesturing me to come wrap up.

"My dear, I will not harm you like these beasts have. Come here and cover up; you don't want prying eyes looking at you." The old man chuckles heartily to himself after enveloping me in the clean warm blanket.

My glare at the old man intensifies after his remark I step back, my crimson red eyes piercing into the depths of his pale grey ones reaching even his soul, the old man once again visibly flinches.

"I was just joking, attempting to lighten the mood, you know?" The old man chuckles once again patting and rubbing his round stomach, he then steps out of the cellar and turns back to face me, welcoming me out.

Skeptically I remain silent, releasing a faint sigh from my lips as I then too step from the cellar into the hallway. There, I observes knights assisting and questioning other slaves, giving them provisions and blankets. The old man taps my shoulder which causes me to jump, he then gestures for me to follow him and to cover my face with the blanket he provided. I complied and began to follow him, dodging knights and other slaves eye sight as we left out of the dungeon door, back into the main part of the prison. As he then starts leading the way toward the prison entrance waving at me to follow.

"Come, come, little lady, my horse is just outside, watch your step though. We will ride swiftly towards the capital, there we can find you some kind of help" the old man beckoned again, urging me to follow. We turn a final corner in the prison halls, as a gust of wind hits my, a dust cloud then hits and goes into my nose causing me to almost sneeze. After stepping over the rubble and exiting the prison, a tall knight walks up to us and lifts the old man from under his arms and places him on top a horse.

I glare at the knight and slowly struggle to get onto the old man's horse, eager to avoid the knight's touch. After success I look around and sees the amount of damage the old man did as rubble and dust still flooded the skies and surrounding area, as then I'm hit with the smell of blood and decaying bodies and that was almost enough to almost make me vomit. The old man grabs the reins seeing that I was ready and pats the horse, then suddenly the horse starts to trot.

They Steadily trot through the remanence and ruins of the slavers town, the horse attempts to dodge the mass amount of bodies that covered the street like a blanket, the horses hoofs painted and soaked in blood and guts. After more weaving and dodging we finally reached the towns entrance gate as I look at it and sees it too was blown open exactly like the prisons door, I then look back one last time at this dreadful place in ruins filled with slaughtered beasts.

The siege lasted approximately ten hours according to my calculations as the day sky once again beings to fall. "Clip-clop, clip-clop," went the steady sound of the horse's hooves galloping along the stone path for what seemed like forever, intensifying the silence between me and the old man. 

After a short period the old man breaks the silence, "Miss, I understand this may be overwhelming, confusing, and frightening, and you must be exhausted. You also might not wish to speak with an old man at this moment, but could you humor me and share your story with me please i would love to hear it?" the old man asked, turning his gaze back looking and smiling at me warmly.

I, with an emotionless gaze, observe the unique landscape, taking in the trees and hills, and even the mountains in the distant horizon. As I look down thinking about his question, tears begin to well in my eyes, a testament to the sadness within me. My memories of home and family are mostly lost and forgotten after years of mental and physical torture, yet deep down I know I'm far from my home land, and the likelihood of my return seems ever so impossible. This burns a emotional hole in my heart as my head drops and I wipe my tears before speaking.

"I don't know much, having been enslaved for half my life. As I mentioned before, my memories are scarce, but I am certain of two things: I am around the age of eighteen years of living, and I have a strong desire to become more powerful," I declared, my crimson eyes sparkle and are alight with determination to grow stronger, my voice still cold yet sincere. 

As I was speaking and explaining what i know to the old man I could tell something was off and sweat began to form on his neck and face and the old man instantly became detached. After seconds the old man laughs and giggles, apparently the old man had come to a conclusion with his thoughts, he then looked back at me with a goofy smile on his face and chuckles to himself once more before speaking. "Say, dear, have you ever heard of a little ancient practice called magic?"