Disclaimer: I own everything, so take that, you evil Banana! lol. ok, maybe I should cut back on sugar.

A/N: This is a story I've been working on for a while. I have a few chapters done, but the rest of the story is not really planned out exactly, I keep changing my ideas, so this might get a little weird later on. OK, just thought I'd let you know.

Chapter One ~Wrongly Accused~

Her eyes flashed a vivid red as the royal decree was read again.

"...Guilty of illegally taking control of the scroll of......."

She didn't hear the rest. Her red eyes flashed towards him. He was grinning. Of all the nerve...

Two men came and chained her in the white-hot chains she had used so much before. She never realized how hot they were. She winced as the heated metal touched her skin. The chains were charmed, of course, so they never burnt the skin, they were just extremely hot. She looked again at his face, and his tombstone grey eyes met her crimson red ones. While her eyes mirrored nothing but hate, his shone with satisfaction, glee. She made a vow to herself that she would take revenge upon him.

The Guards led her down the great halls of the castle. A few nobles noticed her, being led by four imperial Guards. She, however, held her head high. She would not allow this to spoil her image.

They finally reached the door leading to the dungeons. The door was very distinct from all the other millions of doors in the vast, old castle. While the others were warm and inviting, made of the finest wood around, Evæterl wood, this door was made of granite, and not tended to. Murky smells wafted into the heavily decorated hall when one of the Guards opened the door. They shoved her into the doorway, causing her to slip. She tumbled down the damp steps, the Guards' sickening laughter above her.

She landed with a thump on the cold, hard floor of the dungeons. She let out a grunt, and then quickly stood up. The guards were still chuckling, standing over her now. Like all of the warriors assigned to the royal protection, these men were huge; seven feet in height, and 3 feet around. Their massive arms were the size of her neck. Usually, she didn't take this kind of abuse, and these men would have been lying on the ground now, if it weren't for their size.

The men jostled her into a room dimly lit by three flaming torches. She looked around to identify the room, but she didn't need to. She could tell from the unforgettable smell of blood and burning flesh where she was. The torture chamber. A shadow of a man stood in the corner, observing a prodding iron.

"I'm sure this did not come as a shock to you, Malya." The man spoke, his voice clear with the fancy accent all Nobles used now a days.

"No, not at all. I always knew you were a traitor, a rat, to say it politely." Malya spoke, with the same sharpness, although without the accent. She had always found that silly. One of the guards elbowed her in the stomach, causing her to double over.

"No no, Etel. Let her speak. It will just be another reason for her hanging."

"Oh really? And what crime would that be?"

"Speaking back with malice to an official officer." The man replied with humor, stepping out of the shadows. He was a tall man, but standing next to the guards he could have been three feet tall. His narrow face loomed out of the darkness, a sickening grin on his face. His gray eyes flickered in the firelight, which also casted shadows on his face. He walked around her, twirling his goatee with his index finger, another popular phase developed by the Noblemen.

"You will no longer be even a soldier when I am through with you." Malya hissed through gritted teeth. The man laughed.

"Oh is that so? Well, I would like to see that happen. You only have 24 hours to live." He sang, mocking her.

"You are forgetting that I have not been trailed." The man clicked his tongue.

"Oh Malya, Malya. You are so young and naive. Haven't you already learned that the court is weak? They never decide anything against the King. So, you are as good as dead. I only need a signature from his royal majesty himself, and its good bye to you. Such a pity you decided to revert to sin and corruption. We could have made a great team, you and I." He replied, gently stroking her cheek. Malya ducked out of his reach. The man grabbed her face and planted a rushed kiss on her lips. Malya pulled away quickly, then spat into his face. The one of the guards beat her off the back of the head and she collapsed onto the floor.

Malya had to go on. She had to fight. But the heat from the chains, the smells, and the burning rage were all too much for her to handle. The room began to twirl as the man headed towards the door.

"Lock her up in cell number 40. I think she will feel welcome there." He said to the guards. There was a strange way he said 'welcome'.

"Yes, Lord Chlapmin." A grizzly voice answered.

"I'll get you, Zathe. I swear, on my late father's grave, I'll make you pay." Malya cried out to him, using what energy she could muster to sit on the floor. She heard a cold laugh, and the soft whistle of a boot moving through the air. She felt the wind before the actual blow. With one last grunt, Malya toppled onto the floor, and fell into the darkness.