Tale of the White Witch

The night sky was blanketed by an eerily luminous red glow, a mixture of both furious fire and ascending strands of weightless ash floated about. Esmara stood silently in the torch light of her tent. Her eyes were a strange mix of crystal blue flecks and assorted shades of purple. Her trademark long white hair cascaded over both her shoulders and down the length of her back. She watched on as the chaos before her continued to play out. An escapable feeling of burdening guilt began to envelop her entirely as she closed her eyes and lowered her head in shame for what she had done. Although doing so unwillingly, Esmara had indeed played her part in what she was now being forced to witness; yet another senseless m******e at the hand of Emperor Theron’s forces. Without her incredible powers, his soldiers would never have succeeded in breaching the stronghold many believed to be impregnable. She was the reason that many innocent men, women and children would die here tonight, not that she ever had a choice in it. She was his. Merely a slave to the mighty Emperor. Both her and her powers, they belonged to him. The familiar sound of his voice caused her eyes to instantly flick open and her head to spin to the side to meet his heated gaze. It was Theron himself, a smug grin spread wide across the pristinely trimmed facial hair that covered his face. His dark brown eyes were fixated on her... His White Witch. It was clear that the sadistic tyrant couldn’t be happier with the view before him now as Theron came to stand behind Esmara proudly. “I see you got what you wanted.” her voice laced with venomous hatred as she narrowed her eyes in defiance. “The city is yours.” “Yes, it would appear so...” Theron’s voice was husky and yet as smooth as silk as he gazed over her shoulder at their view like a hungry predator. “With the stronghold having been breached it is only a matter of time before my men bring me what I need. Thanks to you...” As he spoke his hand lifted up slowly, his fingers grasping softly at her long white hair cascading over her right shoulder. He proceed to slowly push it off to the side, revealing the bare skin of her neck to him. Esmara sucked in a sharp breath and swallowed uncomfortably as she felt his hot breath fanning out across her neck. She felt uncomfortable with him this close to her. The sensation of his lips pressing against the side of her neck caused her entire body to instantly tense up as she unknowingly held her breath and closed her eyes. Her brow furrowed as he began kissing her softly along the slant of her neck, down toward the tip of her right shoulder. Esmara always hated it when he touched her. And he would, whenever he pleased. She was his, after all. She belonged to him. As he continued trailing wet kisses down the length of her shoulder, one at a time her body began to betray her, and she silently cursed to herself. She could feel the warmth quickly forming down below, deep within her core and she hated herself for giving in to his desires. But it was no use. Her body always responded to his touch, whether she wanted it to or not. Theron paused his assault on her for a moment to speak. “You know, you really impressed me tonight... even now, your powers continue to grow at such a rapid rate. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.” She could feel both his hands come to grasp each of her shoulders, holding her in place as she opened her eyes which were now brimmed with fresh warm tears. But she wouldn’t speak, she had nothing to say in response to his comment. Esmara knew very well that her powers had continued to grow in both level and ability with each passing day. Not that she had ever wanted this to happen in the first place. She had never been given a choice, having been born with the rare ability to summon up ancient magic at will. It was as much a part of her as anything else, though a part she had always wished she did not possess and for good reason. To Esmara, her powers were nothing but an unending and torturous curse. Theron moved around in front of her now, his fingers gently grasping her chin and positioning her head to look him dead in the eye. And she did. She wouldn’t fight him, there was no point. He would always win. “f**k, you look so beautiful in this lighting, Esmara.” he grinned. She felt disgusted and couldn’t help but snap back at him in response. “You mean in the glow of senseless destruction and c*****e?” her eyes narrowed defiantly at him. He gave a short chuckle. “And still as feisty as ever, I see. Not that I would want you any other way.” This caused her to look down at the small space between them, rapidly closing with each passing second. Her heart began to race as fear took over all of her rational thinking. He was leaning in with the intention of kissing her! 'No, no, no...' she thought to herself. Esmara needed to think of something to prevent it and fast. As if by instinct she quickly turned her head to the side and his lips met with the side of her cheek instead of their intended target; her lips. She knew that her action would come with an eventual consequence, but she really didn’t want him to kiss her. Not now... not after such a horrific night. Of course this pissed him off and suddenly Theron’s demeanour changed entirely. His lip curved upwards, baring his canines as he let out a deep snarl at her insolence. “You dare to turn away from me.” His fingers then grasped at the bottom of her jaw, forcing her head to turn and reunite their gazes once more. She flinched at the forcefulness of his hold on her, fearful of what would come next. Would he hit her? Or possibly worse? It was well known that the mighty Emperor was used to getting what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. She knew this better than anyone. He looked her up and down for a moment as if studying her, his fingers burying themselves deeper into her soft skin and causing her to grimace. A soft grunt escaped her now trembling lips and she hated herself for showing him any sign of fear. After a second or two of silence shared between them, with nothing but the sounds of their heavy breathing, the corner of Theron’s mouth curved upwards. “You’re lucky I’m in a forgiving mood tonight, my pet. But be warned, I will not be as forgiving next time.” With that he lunged forward and pressed his lips against hers, forcing a relentless kiss between them and causing Esmara’s face to scrunch up with disgust as both her hands lifted up to press against his chest. She felt as his tongue forced its way into her mouth and she grunted against his lips, her hands pushing in a feeble attempt to separate herself from him. But he was a lot stronger than she was. After a moment Theron suddenly pulled away, their lips parting and allowing Esmara the chance to finally suck a deep breath of air into her lungs. She felt suffocated by him, in more ways than one. Her entire body had become rigid, filled with a fire and an anger that she found difficult to control as she glared back at him through tear-filled eyes. A stray tear rolled down the side of her left cheek. As much as she wanted to curse at him, to perhaps use her powers against him and put an end to her torment once and for all, she knew she could not. The fact remained, she still belonged to him. “Refuse me again Esmara, and I promise you will regret it… remember who you belong to, my pet.” With that the Emperor turned and marched off toward the tent’s entrance, leaving a trembling Esmara vulnerable and alone once more. She sat herself down on one of the nearby chairs as the tears began to emerge, one by one. Her lashes blinked some of them away but the majority fell down to pool on the lap of the silver glittery dress she was wearing. Esmara was always dressed in the finest clothing and jewellery money could buy; the Emperor loved to parade her about as his fondest possession. His trophy. Unfortunately, she wanted none of it. In fact, she hated all of the attention he gave her. With each passing day she would hope and pray to the gods above that Theron would end his apparent fixation on her and allow her to leave. She wanted nothing more than to be free and allowed to make her own decisions, to live her own life. And with each successful battle and war waged Esmara fought on his behalf, Theron had promised that her freedom was nearing. That he would soon allow her to leave, to live her life as she so desired. But Esmara was a smart young woman. Deep down she knew the truth, though she dared never admit it to herself. Admitting it would in turn dissolve any shred of hope she had left. It was clear to her that the Emperor would never let her go willingly. He was merely feeding her false hope in an effort to keep her by his side, faithful and obedient to his cause. After all, her powers were unlike any ever seen before. Losing her could possibly lose Theron future conquests and he would not allow that to happen. But even against such massive odds, Esmara refused to abandon all hope. She would find a way to one day free herself. Little did she know that the opportunity for her escape was fast approaching; one that would unknowingly change her life forever…