I fell for a devil in angels clothing. Now I regret it. He's beautiful when he sleeps, so innocent with red hair caressing his soft cream colored skin. When I looked at him I knew I needed to get away. If I stayed any longer only the Goddess above could predict what would happen next. He was bad for my health in every sense of the word. He would kill me in the end if I didn't leave now. I had to run away; never looking behind, never turning back, and just running in whatever direction my toes were pointed.
I turned around and faced his sleeping form. It took my breath away to watch his beautiful bare chest rise and fall in an enticing rhythmic pattern. And as much as I hated it I knew I had to go, I had to leave him. I gathered my clothes from around the room where they had been carelessly thrown in a state of heated passion. It took very little time to dress. All I was wearing was a dark crimson red gown that took less than a full 5 minutes to put on. I clasped the front together at the stomach and waist and laced up the top bounding my breasts. I adjusted it and then slipped on the boots I stole from my older brother that my own father was ashamed of me for wearing. Tall black leather boots laced up high, made from the skin of a beast that was terrorizing the farms out side the castle walls a year before his death.
Without a sound I slipped from the small room at the back of the town pub. My own home, the castle a full three hours walk away lay in the distance hiding the slowly creeping sun and most of the light breaking free to the cast most including this same village that lay just outside the castle gates into shadow. But I turned away from the castle and walked slowly towards the Barron woods. I couldn't go back there, not yet, maybe not ever again. I felt so lost and confused. My thoughts were racing in my head trying desperately to arrange themselves in any kind of order. My own thoughts were failing to do just that leaving me to rethink everything that I have ever held to be true, everything my father ever told me was right.
Not that long ago I witnessed my own father ordering the massacre of a small village on the cusp of the Changeling/Human borders up North that showed signs of anarchists in a few youth who were sick of their brutal and cruel tyrant ruler, my own father. I ran as fast as I could from that horrible place I had once called home and into the arms of a common peasant who use to work in the palace. A boy my brother and I had grown up with. We were never truly allowed to talk much less befriend the servants. But on occasion I had snuck out of my room and down to the kitchens just to talk with him. He was the only one besides my brother who was anywhere near my age. He left the castle when he was 11 and went back to work at his families pub. The same pub I had just left. Later I found out he was in league with those anarchist youth up North. I ran into the arms of my father's enemy, my enemy. My mother taught me before her death that no matter what my father said or did I couldn't ever let him take my strength, my natural will that I was born with, away from me. At the time, the young age of 6, I hadn't the slightest idea in what she was talking about but now, well over a decade later, I figured it out. See mom I figured it out and realized my own strength. You died of a broken heart because you were forced to marry my father who you had never loved. You were strong trying to fight and run away with the boy you truly loved but my father was heartless and captured both of you and killed the boy. He won over you but not me. After that you gave up fighting. My own father broke my mother and later on killed her. You, Mother, made sure he would never break my brother or me. You fought just for your children; you fought until your body gave up when I was 9.
I fell to my knees on the earthen floor of the woods, wrapped my arms around my upper torso and began to cry. I didn't know what to do. Should I go back to the porcelain doll lying on his worn out bed or my own cruel father? The answer should be simple, my porcelain doll, right? But it's not. Slowly I unclasp the top of my dress allowing me to breath easier. Pulling my self up with a slanted branch I look out to the still semi-dark sky and walk towards it without much thought. I just want it to stay night. I love the night. The darkness helps me to think. It clears my head. Some how it regenerates my mind no matter how far lost or confused I may be.
One foot in front of the other, first the right then the left then right again, over and over again. Another pattern I follow closely. The trees around me are strange. They're taller than the ones close to the castle. Something was very strange about them. They look like they had their own life to them and their own magic. With a crash the thought hit me with full force. These woods lead to the Land of Cinis, the land of living ash. I must have been walking for a great while without really noticing. But no tribe of Solavis lived this close to the boarders they have hated the human race for many a year. The Solavis are creatures that looked human but they are taller with fairer skin and beautiful silk hair. They also had great magic coursing through their veins. I saw one once, when I was a young child. At first I thought he was another human but strikingly beautiful. I watched him and followed him. He turned and smiled at the tree I was hiding behind, some how sensing I was there. He untied his cloak that hung off his slender shoulders. Suddenly a pair of two beautiful golden wings shot out of his back. I thought my eyes were playing a trick on me, that it was the light or spell covering my eyes. But he turned his back towards me and I saw they were actually coming out of his back at the shoulder blades. I watched him beat his great golden wings and take flight.
An old legend said where ever the Solavis camped the land around them would absorb the magic that was radiating off of them and the trees would grow inches even feet in one night. Even the water would taste cleaner. The world around them would always be healthier. The legend also spoke of them living all over but the human race pushed them into the Land of Cinis, murdering more than half their numbers. They use to be peaceful and happy but after so many years of hatred brewing within their souls they lost that form of innocence and became fierce warriors and wielders of great Magic.
My breath quickened and my chest felt tight. My mind was telling me to stop, to turn and run. If a Solavis saw a human trespassing in their encampment they would be captured and killed without question, my Father use to tell me horrible stories of how they treated their captives. He use to tell me when I was little that they would tie them up to a tree and torture them until they were only an inch from death. He also told me once they used strange and cruel tools of torture. He told me these stories before bed, just like sick and twisted bedtime stories. My Father told the stories in gruesome details, explaining the ritual torture and how they used each tool and where. It made me blood run cold just to think of it. My feet were not listening to me. They kept moving one right after the other. I knew deep down a large part of me wanted to see the Solavis camp but another part of me was afraid for my very own life. I could feel those sharpened stones against my flesh, pressing ever so lightly waiting for the right time to slash my skin open. I always felt that when I thought of the stories my Father use to tell me. A cold shiver ran up my spine to the base of my neck.
Soon, to soon, I came to a clearing with silver tents pitched up all over the place. This was a tribe of nomads. Some Solavis settled down where ever they could but my old Nanny told me once that a small amount of them became nomads wandering, searching for the part of their tribe they lost during the great battle so many centuries ago. Some how my old Nanny knew a great deal about this isolated race. I never questioned that fact I regret that now. I regret so much now.
I quickly hide behind a tree before anyone could see me. The sight before me caused my heart to stop and my breath to freeze. Before me stood a small group of Solavis, three males, one a small boy and two teenagers and 2 females around 19 in age. The men stood naked from the waist up and burgundy slacks were hanging loosely off their legs and going only to the knees, showing off tight leather boots. The boy wore matching tanned slacks and a vest; they all had matching raven hair. The woman wore long dresses with long silk sleeves. The women furthest from myself had long blond hair while the closest one had brown hair grown only to her shoulders.
"Girl, stand up." Without realizing it the oldest looking male turned to me and stared into my eyes. His face was set. He had caught me how? My life is over. They will surely kill me. A thousand thoughts ran through my head. I had never told my father the truth about how much I really hated him. I never told Saeha, my enemy/lover, just how much I cared for him. It was just a few hours ago I had become a true woman, or a woman by our stupid human standards. Now it was soon going to end.
I got up and walked slowly towards these beautiful yet deadly creatures. His eyes never left mine. His strong gaze scared me and sent cold shivers down my spin. Slowly, very slowly he raised his hand that held a sword, a sword I never noticed before, and held it to my throat. The younger man with long raven hair walked behind me and pressed his body close. It felt odd, his bare chest against my bare back. One of his long arms snaked around my waist and another around my arms, locking them to my side. I was now fully trapped.
"Walk."