Yara: Civil War

Chapter One

   When Yara had finally woke up, she found herself in a dark, cold room with a slimy stone floor. She groaned and sat up, mildly disgusted with the way her fingers squished on the algae. As she made her way to her knee’s, she realized that all she knew was her name. 

    “Oh, s**t. No, this is not good,” she whimpered to herself, slightly panicking. Yara had to take a deep, calming breath, stilled her aching body, and closed her eyes.       “Okay, so we know we are in this filthy, stinky room,” she mumbled sarcastically. “My name is Yara. I am a seventeen year old, kick ass witch.” She smiled a little. “I know what my birthday is, so that’s good.” The more Yara spoke to herself, the better she felt. After some time meditating and calming herself down, she breathed a sigh of relief, glad she didn’t have amnesia. None you know about anyway, she second guessed briefly before shaking off the thought.  Yara tried to stand up, and a massive headache crashed down on her skull, making her wince in pain and drop back to the nasty floor. Moaning in frustration, she remembered that she had been brutally hit on the back of her head. She reached up slowly, and gently touched the spot. Yara hissed when she felt the sting on her head, the source of her menacing headache, a huge shallow gash that was still oozing blood.       “Of course,” she whispered, way more pissed than she was before. “Those filthy, blood-sucking assholes!” Yara had been traveling. No, she thought hurriedly, starting to panic. She was running. “Well, s**t, there’s the amnesia.” Pieces of her last moments as a conscious woman came rushing through, and she knew she was in real trouble now. Yara looked around, a soft yellow light filtering through the bottom of the only door. The ceiling was at least ten foot tall, all four walls nothing but old stone. Water leaked through some of the cracks, making eerie sounds that echoed everywhere. My god, how is this place still standing? It looked very old, and she wondered just how old. Her stomach lurched, and she suddenly felt like she hadn’t eaten in ages. How long have I been down here?      She tried to remember what had happened, but all that had come to her mind was that she had been running, and was surrounded by at least a dozen vampires. There’s something they wanted, she shook her head, frustrated. What ever it was, she didn’t have it then, and certainly didn’t have it now. She barely had any idea what was going on.       “What ever it is, must be super important to take me hostage,” she growled. Her family had been known for centuries as one of the most powerful lines of witches in, well, ever. “Ohh, yeah,” she sighed. Her betrothed was defiantly not going to be happy. “Well, if that bastard had bothered to come with me,” she rolled her eyes, and regretted it, her headache flaring up. Yara didn’t necessarily dislike her fiancé, she just didn’t always agree with his tactics on things. She was the kind of girl that liked to charge in head on, which she admitted grudgingly, sometimes was her downfall. Again though, Yara had no idea why he wasn’t with her now. Either way, he’s going to be super, like super, pissed.       The now moody witch heard noises, and she listened as an echo of multiple feet approached her door. “Ugh,” she groaned out. “Fuck.” She raised her arm above her eyes, the light outside the door being significantly brighter then what she had finally become accustom to. Yara saw two vampire women approach, each carrying a set of shackles. Her witch instincts kicked in.      “Like hell you are ever putting those rusty shits on me,” she snarled. Something was very wrong however, as she tried to defend herself. The vampires snickered.       “Whats wrong little witch?” the first vampire sneered out in an unnaturally soothing voice. “Can’t use any magic?”       “What?!” Yara yelped in disbelief. “Are you freaking kidding me!?” She wanted to scream. Of course the vampires would have a magic nulling room!       “Lucky for you, Master wants you alive,” the second female grunted, unhappy she wasn’t getting a meal. According to most vampires, witches blood was incredibly delicious. Something about the taste of magic in old blood. Whatever that means, she thought with disgust. Something else I can remember, so I guess that’s good.      “I don’t suppose any one of you could tell me why,” Yara gritted out, trying to find a way out past these two. She didn’t think it would do her any good anyway, female vampires, by nature, were way more malicious than males. Vindictive little bitches.       “No,” they growled together.       “I didn’t think so,” she sighed. Before she had gotten into this mess, Yara put on some really good boots. She tensed up her body, and tried to make a dash out the door. Luckily she had traction, much to her surprise, but she was cut off by one of the vampires.       “Oh no you don’t,” she snarled at Yara. “We can’t kill you or eat you, but I will break your bones if you try to get out.”       “I swear,” Yara snarled back, “If I still had my magic, you would be a pile of dust, you walking parasite.” The vampire in front of her roared demonically, wanting to lung at Yara.       “Enough, you two,” a third vampire snarled. “It shouldn’t take this long to shackle up one witch.” The third vampire was very tall, with short spiky black hair. Her red eyes glowed, and her glare sent chills down Yara’s back. A General vampire was nothing to mess with, and she found herself face to face with one.          “You would think your minions would have a little more sense,” Yara taunted, unable to help herself.       “You would think you would know when to quit,” the General replied cooly. “Lucky for you, I find you amusing. And Master wants you alive.” She flashed her glowing red eyes at the other two and held out her hand. Next thing Yara knew, she was cuffed.       “Lets just make this quick, these things are disgusting and they’ve probably been on dead people,” she retorted, wondering why their Master wanted her alive. Just another thing I can’t remember, she thought. Maybe it’s one of those things, where I’ll remember when I see who this Master is. One female poked her in her back with a sharp fingernail, suggesting that Yara had stalled long enough.       “Move,” they all snarled.      “Yeesh, okay okay, fine,” she grumbled. The chain was just long enough for her to shuffle along, the metal rubbing her ankles a little raw. She was ushered into a hallway, her eyes now adjusted to the torch light that blazed. There was more stone, and she tried to use her magic again with no luck. The longer they walked, the dimmer it got. Yara realized that the only light she had seen so far was the torch that hung outside her door. Before she knew it, she was surrounded in pitch black abyss, relying on the hands that harshly clutched to her arms to guide her through.       “Are we there yet?” Yara asked them, out of boredom and the will to be annoying. When they were silent, she asked again. There was no response.       “Are we-“      “I swear if you do not shut up, I will rip your toung out,” the General growled.       “Well, there’s nothing entertaining about being walked around in the pitch black,” Yara shrugged. “How long are we going to do this?”       “Thankfully not much longer,” the General growled. Suddenly the two vampires holding her arms halted, jerking her back before Yara had time to stop herself. She glared into empty space, wishing for her magic. A loud creak and wood wailing against stone filled her ears, making Yara flinch.       “You all need to fix this place, it looks hideous and sounds like it’s about to fall apart.” Yara heard the vampires sigh in annoyance, and shoved her forward into a magnificent room. It had an incredibly high ceiling, painted like it came straight from Rome. An enormous crystal chandelier hung from the center, making the light glitter across the walls and floors. Tall, elegant pillars held the room up, and was entirely made from marble and quarts. Yara had to admit that it was quite beautiful.       “Okay, so what gives?” she pointed upward and gestured the whole room. “This is incredible,” she said looking at the General. “Is this all your Master could afford?” Yara leaned back as the General took a threatening step into her space. Oops, I might have over done it now.      “Despite what entitlement you feel about being a descendant from an old witch family, our Master has been around since the beginning.” The calm before the storm threat sent a chill down Yara’s spine. “You are a child here, you won’t begin to fathom the wealth our Master possesses.”       “Well then,” Yara grumbled. But now she had some idea of where she was. Vampires that old were very, very far and few between. She was more or less about to meet a living, breathing, walking legend. Yara heard whispering and noticed the room was filling with other vampires. “What kind of spectacle am I to expect here?” she asked the room. Vampires sneered at her, talking too low for her ears to hear. “Well?” Yara’s long black hair was falling out of her bun, and she was sure she looked like a hot mess. She was noticing more how bruised and cut up she was, and a bite on her leg was starting to sting. Oh, you motherfu-      “Yara,” a powerful voice purred across the room, his authority sending shivers down her spine. There was a strange aura she could feel from his presence, and it made her nauseous. She turned to face the Master, a vampire that had lived several life times. Her chains rattled, and suddenly the world was replaced by silence, a kind of silence that’s only witnessed when a pivotal moment, a moment like this, was shocking enough that Yara could not react. She had no words, and for a moment she couldn’t understand why seeing this vampire had such a negative impact on her emotions. Time slowed down, Yara’s eyes widened in response to an overwhelming sense of rage, and she screamed at him in agony. Feeling a small spark of power, she used it to break out of her shackles that held her feet together and lunged for the vampire. Anger and grief tore through her, ripping open a wound she had finally sown together.       “You murderer!” She screamed, leaping into the air with her shackled hands raised above her head. Yara was quickly caught by a male vampire, his thick cold arms holding her as best as he could around her waist. She thrashed and beat up the vampire holding her back. “I will kill you!” she screamed again, practically frothing at the mouth. The vampire holding her finally got his arms around her, pinning her arms down.       “I’d like to certainly see you try, little dove. That would be a spectacular sparring match.” He looked at her with his dark maroon eyes, flecks of yellow and gold shimmering within. His black hair was slicked back and tied off at the base of his neck, and his muscular frame was held with elegance as he held his hands behind him. Yara felt he was at least seven feet tall. There was so much anguish running though her that she felt tears escaping her eyes, shooting daggers with her glare at the vampire.       “I will do more than try,” she spat out.       “Yara,” he cooed. “You can not kill someone like me.” He smiled slyly. “I may not be as old as a god, but I can assure you, I am quite near as powerful. So no,” he lowered his voice and walked towards her. “You can not kill me.” He leaned in and stared into her cold blue eyes before turning away from her and said in a normal voice, “Just so you are made aware, I know you were a child, but I went to collect my payment. Only to find childish resistance and ignorance. Your mother knew, Yara, she knew what was coming and she defied me anyway. All she had to do was give me the Enigma.” He turned his head to look at her. “You were on your way with it, weren’t you.” He strode towards her a little faster than she liked, and had to lean back when he got in her face again. “Where is it Yara, where is the Enigma?” The Master vampire signaled the vampire holding her back to let go.      “Really? That’s why you dragged me here?” She scoffed. “Why don’t you ask your little vampire minions, because someone here f****d up my memories,” she growled, wiggling the leg that had the bite mark on it. The vampire, whose name she now remembered, looked at her leg, and his eyes got dark. His face turned to a snarl and he roared at his hoard.       “Who bit her?!” he raged, his teeth sharpening into fine points. A demonic undertone melded with his voice, and for the first time since she woke up, Yara was truly afraid. She had never seen an ancient vampire, especially in his power. Dorran walked up to the General that had walked her in, and sniffed her. “Certainly not you, my trusted General,” he purred, and she swore she saw the General gulp in fear.       “No, my Lord. I don’t know who bit her, or how it got past my notice.” Yara saw the fear grip the General and ever so slightly felt a tiny bit sorry for the vampire. Dorran was powerful and scary, and could turn any vampire into a pile of dust before you could blink.       “What was my number one rule?” his voice boomed as he addressed the room.       “Do not bite Yara, my Lord,” they all spoke, and it sounded like a haunted choir. Yara shivered.       “Someone has taken a bite,” Dorran stated calmly. “Luckily, it is not a strong bite, so her memories are not marred too much.” He paced in the wide circle that had formed around Yara and the vampires, watching as their Master contemplated a punishment. She watched as he subtly sniffed the air, walking amongst his ranks, and watched as every vampire within a few feet of him stiffened. He came to a stop to the first vampire that had walked into her room, and Yara smirked.       “Would you like to confess?” Dorran asked, his voice so light and pure, Yara cringed.       “My Lord,” she whimpered, all eyes on her now. “I can explain. I-“       Dorran didn’t let the vampire finish before there was a short scream followed by a cloud of glittering dust and a mist of something black. Yara gagged in her mouth.       “Hey,” she barely spoke, before gagging again. “Some of us here don’t like to be covered in blood, regardless of what it is.” The smell was way too sweet, like she was in a room full of nasty pastries and knock off cookies. Dust from the now obliterated vampire was settling and she sneezed. “Oh, ew, Dorran please, was this necessary?” Yara was about to have a meltdown, and not the kind that required ice cream afterwards.       “Sorry dove, but it had to be done.” His cold gaze swept across the faces of his hoard. “This is just a reminder of what the punishment is for defiance. Remember it,” he snarled. He turned towards Yara. “Now, you’re going to come with me, and you’re going to help me obtain the Enigma.” She scoffed at him, and shook her head. Yara started laughing, feeling that small power she felt earlier beginning to grow.       “You are seriously demented,” she laughed, feeling a little hysterical. Dorran simply raised his eyebrows at her. “I think you’ve underestimated me, Dorran. You have no idea the power you are playing with,” she whispered angrily. The vampire drew himself up tall, glaring down at her.       “Would you like to demonstrate?” he growled. “You were part of my payment, did you know that?”       “You’re lying,” she whispered. “My mother would have never done that.” Yara was furious about what he was implying.       “Well no, if she thought she could defeat me, which is why, I’m assuming at least, she raged an attack on me when I came knocking. Trying to go back on her deal.” He circled her, and there was a different kind of rage that boiled inside Yara, one she didn’t think was possible. One that, if she was right, was never revealed to her.       “I think you just want to get into my head,” she growled. Without warning she unleashed the rage she was feeling, and it came out as a powerful magic, more than she had ever cast in her life. Yara knew this was blood magic, and was shocked she could even do it. The blast of magic she sent out towards Dorran sent him flying, as well as the entire room of vampires. Realizing she had an opportunity, Yara bolted towards the door she saw Dorran and his body guards walk through, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She could feel the restricting wards on the walls start to fade as she ran down a marbled corridor. With a quick word of magic, she shook off her rusty shackles. Her boots gripped the slick floor and she quickly darted down a hall to her right, guessing dangerously how to get out. Yara felt a strong pull of magic, and realized it was a familiar signature.     “Wait, that’s my staff,” she paused, whispering to herself. There was a soft buzzing in her skull that intensified as she trotted down the hall. Breaking into a run, she turned left and found herself at the end of the hall, greeted by an elaborate gold door. Yara busted it down with an explosion, walking through the cloud of dust.

    “Well, that was unusually easy.” She looked around until she saw her weapon, an elaborate staff made of white birch, with a large, smooth sphere of Citrine that focused her magic.       “Hello, gorgeous,” she cooed, holding the familiar and worn staff in her hands. The yellow-gold stone glowed in response to her voice and touch, eagerly awaiting her command. “Now, how do we get out of here?” she asked herself, looking around the room for anything else she might desire to acquire on her journey out of here.       “Maybe I did underestimate you, a little,” a strained voice spoke, and Yara spun to face the door she busted down.     “Oh, it’s you,” she pouted. Holding her staff out to her side, she struck the ground with the bottom and a sharp, hard clack rang out. An invisible wall shot up between them, the force of it making Dorran stagger back a little. Some how she had wounded him earlier, but she wasn’t about to question it now. “I suggest you leave me alone Dorran. I am an angry witch that is not above getting gross if I have to,” she threatened. As if fate wanted her to prove her point, a vampire sprinted around the corner to come to the aid of his Master. Before he could reach Dorran though, Yara pointed her staff at the vampire and he imploded into a cloud of dust and mist. Dorren clenched his teeth in aggravation, his attention going from the obliterated vampire back to Yara. She raised her eyebrows at him.       “I may be young, but remember, I’m from an old bloodline. I am a lot more than you think. For a seventeen year old.” She pointed her staff at the wall behind her and uttered a word, and a hole tore itself into the wall, exposing the outside world to her. Cool, humid air rushed in and chilled her bare arms. She was only wearing a tank top now, her shorts dirty and wet. Yara sighed and looked back at Dorran to make sure he didn’t try anything.       “Remember, Yara,” he growled menacingly, “You are part of my payment. You belong to me.” She shivered at his words, but refused to let him shake her.       “You’re an old man who wants a seventeen year old?” She scoffed. “You have issues Dorran.” She backed herself towards the hole in the wall. “You’re about as old as a dinosaur.”       “When I became what I am, I was only a few years older than you, little dove.” Yara had to shake off his intense gaze, unnerved by the way he was suddenly looking her over.       “That doesn’t change what you are,” she whispered. “Nothing you say or do can ever, ever, change this hatred I have for you.” Tears for her mother slowly spilled out, remembering the gruesome scene before her. “That was my mother, Dorran, and I swear on my life, I will find a way to kill you.”       “I will find you again, dove,” he spoke after a brief pause, “and I promise, you and your father will want to hear my proposal in regards to the Enigma. For now,” he gestured to the outside. “Leave, and go home. You have proven your strength.” He leaned against the doorway, and Yara was slightly curious just how bad she actually hurt him. But with his words, she quickly hopped out, gliding down with the magic from her staff. Ugh, did Mary Poppins ever feel this ridiculous? Maybe it’s because I’m a nasty mess. She held on tight, readying herself to land on the soft ground. The mist covered her in small droplets, and Yara deemed this night to be the most miserable night she had ever experienced. Exhausted, she slipped into the forest’s edge, getting out of sight of Dorran’s castle. Now what do I do?      Yara wanted to do magic, something to get her home faster, but she wasn’t sure where she was, and if she didn’t do things properly, she could end up someplace weird, or worse, pop herself back into Dorran’s infested castle. The thought alone made her shiver. She looked up, the tall Fir tree’s reaching for the sky. Yara was confused, she didn’t think there were any Fir tree’s back in the states, where home was. Tired, wet, and now confused, she let out an irritated growl and kept trudging away from Dorran’s place.       What seemed like an hour later, Yara stumbled upon an open field, full of sleeping wild flowers. The air was warming up, and the first light of the sun was glowing on the horizon.       “That’s great, it’s the dawn,” she groaned. Looking around, the field was a huge clearing, and the forest continued where the horizon was. In an attempt to call her family for help, or even her betrothed, or a friend, she gently jabbed her staff into the ground, a quick three taps. Wait… She paused, remembering something she thought to herself earlier.       “These fir tree’s, they don’t grow in the states,” she told herself slowly, hearing it out loud making the reality a little more final. “Oh, hell no,” she snapped, turning back to the forest to look at it’s tree’s. “Are you kidding me?!” she yelled, throwing her hands up. Yara couldn’t remember where Fir tree’s grew, especially these ones, but she knew she was across the ocean. She wanted to stomp her feet and throw a temper tantrum, but in the end of it, she was just too exhausted. “This monster wants the Enigma, like an idiot.” She paced. “I’m stuck on the other side of the f*****g world.” Yara growled in frustration. She looked at the sunrise, at least glad to know where East was. “Will any of them even see it? Will it go that far?” She had never sent out a beacon that far before. Yara had so much inner turmoil that she almost missed the gold glint of light that flashed across the sky, sailing over the sun. She squinted, following the glittery gold speck that was gliding through the air.       “What ever it is, it’s kind of pretty,” she muttered, watching it get larger. She made out what appeared to be wings, doing some weird wiggle dance. “It kind of looks like fire?” The weird shape of the object at such a far distance made Yara wonder if she was starting to loose her mind. As it grew in size, Yara realized it was a bird. A golden bird that was lit up by the sun.      “‘A large, golden, immortal beast, thought to be set ablaze by the sun spirit itself. A precious gift, and very rare magic.’” Yara quoted her mother, from a tale she was told when she was a little child. She felt the blood drain from her face, realizing what was headed her way.       “It’s a f*****g Phoenix.”