Her King Of Shadows

Chapter III.

At the first moment, she thought she was on a boat. She felt like waves rolling in the distance. And when she tried to open her eyes, darkness was everywhere. The darkness carried her. Strong arms grabbed the fabric of her silk robe and carried her through cold corridors. But when she took a better look under the weak light of the moon, it wasn’t the corridors they were passing through. She recognized the deep swamp behind the fort with low trees whose branches would cry up to the skies. Her head was heavy and she could just look on to the side. His steps felt like waves in an ocean. Great and strong. She tried not to move, not to betray she was awake. She tried to keep her heart calm. She didn’t remember when she was grabbed. As if the darkness became alive in a moment and surrendered her to her enemy. She tried to gather her courage and look at him. She had a right to see her enemy. But she couldn’t see his face. The only thing she saw was too much. He was holding an axe in his other hand. And with his every movement she could imagine where the blade would stop.

They didn’t walk for long. In only ten minutes, they went deeper in the swamp where the father would never be able to find her. The swamp was a dark place with ghosts. Once you came in, there was not a way out. She was scared by it as a small child. Nobody would follow her to the swamp. Not even father. She wanted to close her eyes and open them in her chambers again. She prayed it was all just a dream like many before. But a part of her knew it was true. A part of her knew that this was the end. She would not see father or Davon again. She would not find out who was the main guest in the fort. She would not read colored books in her father's library or ease drop on his important conversations which she never understood. And she could almost feel someone touching her hand for a moment. Just her fingers but it was there. And it wasn’t just anybody. She knew that touch of warmth and damp. Only it wasn’t possible for that person to ever touch her again. Or the people we lose we forever carry with us? Who will then carry her when she is gone? And how will they remember her?

She was dropped like a ragged doll in the mud, her back hitting a small tree. She felt rotten leaves under her hands. She desperately wanted to turn toward the sky so she could see the stars one last time. It was more than her mother could do, but she had a right. She felt there was a moment left before she decided to close her eyes so she wouldn’t see the shiny blade coming for her. And as in a dream, behind her was the blade and in front the darkness. And she caught herself whispering her mother's name one last time. It has been years since she last spoke it. Even in the worst moments of our lives, there is no better comfort than the name of the person who gave us life. Icy wind returned but this time there was no light to kill. She was maybe already dead.

But there was a voice she didn’t know she had. There was a part of her which lived for light, youth and justice which woke up. A part of her which wanted to dream and live. A part of her which refused everything to finish in this place.

-Get up and run.-he ordered. The blade was so close to almost touching her. She jumped to the side at the last moment. There was a deaf sound of the blade missing her and hitting the ground. She retreated behind a tree which was low enough to hide her.

-Run!-voice was now screaming in her ears. And she didn’t have a choice. She ran into the darkness. Behind her was the blade. In front of her was the darkness. The whiteness of the silk robe was visible in the moonlight. But she just kept running through the swamp. Her feet got stuck in the mud. She would just try to keep going. She didn’t turn. She didn’t dare to look see who was following her and from where the next blow was coming. She heard him going after her. But he was much heavier and the swamp stopped him with more power. She didn’t know where she was going. She was probably running away from the fort and it would be impossible to run away from death. But the voice in her heart told her to keep walking. Begged her not to surrender. Telling her to stay strong just for a little bit longer. The voice had lied. The third time she fell, hurting her feet, she realized the voice cheated her. Made her experience even more pain. But she didn’t cry. She was still a child but she didn’t cry. Even though she couldn’t walk anymore, she crawled to the closest tree. She leaned towards it, wanting to see the enemy coming for her. Having enough courage at last to see the blade. The blade had much more mercy than the darkness.

His reason told him to leave. To turn his back to the fort and get on his way. He would have done it at any other moment. The fate of that child wasn’t in his hands. But he still waited. Enough for Boris to come back. And he saw fear in those cold eyes. The girl wasn’t where she was supposed to be. This was not a trap to make him help them. These were not false pretenses. The danger was real. Boris walked past him giving orders to the guards to start searching. They had to do it. They had to start from the fort. But it was only a waste of time because she wasn’t in the fort anymore. He looked towards the sky and closed his eyes as if he could smell her. There were ancient things between them. Ancient cries of better times. He started walking behind the fort. Away from guards and torches. Away from roads and routes which led to the closest city. Closer to the swamp and trees on the edge of death.

Icy wind got stronger, pulling the clouds across the sky. There was only the moon and a couple of shy stars. Her smell was stronger here. But not only hers. He stood by the fence which separated them from the swamp. The grass was tall without any flowers. But someone passed this way. He could see the marks where the grass was broken. He could see the strands of white fabric hanging from sharp branches. Losing a battle to the wind. He slowly continued deeper. Careful with each step. Darkness around him turned into a fog. He looked at the ground while someone else would have looked in the distance. But there was no need for that. He saw everything he wanted to see.

Someone was carrying a body. Someone very strong was carrying a body with only one hand while the other was carrying a weapon. And he was still there. But his hand didn’t go to his weapon. His heart didn’t lose a beat in fear. Centuries passed but he couldn’t feel a thing. And he didn’t know what made him decide to follow her that night. Was it a long memory of her mother? Or a part of him wanted to see the worse? Death of life which just began? Because his heart was telling him that he was too late. That a girl like her didn’t have a chance of surviving such an attack. Didn’t have a chance to run. But when he saw marks of blades on the trees and small steps which led deeper than he was willing to go, something in him stopped. This was an execution. Simple and cold execution.

The killer didn’t want to do it in her father's home. Maybe he wanted her to feel pain and scream. Maybe he wanted more time to do everything he planned to do. But it didn’t change the fact that Boris was right. This was an execution. And he started walking faster. He raised his eyes from the ground, wondering which direction she could have escaped. Time was running low. Darkness was getting thicker. And he let it go in front of him because it was wiser. Darkness knew all the ways a person could hide. Darkness could find her faster than him. It took him a couple of seconds and he knew it was maybe already too late. He ran. His hand went to his sword. He raised the weapon in front of his body, which hid behind a low tree. One blade met another blade. There were two warriors in the darkness that night. One ran away admitting defeat. The other stood by watching the girl in front of him.

When he took her from Araphels hands at the first moment, he thought she was dead. She wasn’t moving. Her dark hair was mixed with blood. And he felt such panic his hands were shaking. But when he took her frail body in his hands her skin was still warm. He held her closer to him, just nodding his head to the warrior. Other words were not needed. She was safe now in his chambers. Davon gave him his word that he would not leave her alone. He couldn’t explain how it all happened. How could someone take her from his home? Pass by all his guards like they were nothing and take her to the swamp. But there were no answers. His warriors searched the entire fort and they still couldn’t find any trace of an intruder or a way they had entered his home. Which only told him that this was no intruder. Murderer was one of his warriors. And he couldn’t trust no one anymore. So now he has walked the forest. Araphel was still close by. He saw the lights of his camp in the distance. He refused to stay in his fort and chose this area only 2 kilometers away. He knew he was being tracked by darkness. It didn’t stop him. He was expected. As if they knew his every move. It was a feeling he didn’t enjoy.