Chapter 2: The Captured Princess

Elysianne was on the brink of despair. Everywhere she looked, there was only destruction and hopelessness. Her father was in her arms, gasping for air. He was at his last breath, blood gushing from the hollows of his stomach, when something struck him before Elysianne could come to his aid. She had been outside as she slashed at their invaders with her sword, killing everyone who tried to get in her way. By the time she had entered the throne room, King Alaric was sprawled on the floor, soaking in his blood. Dozens of dead men and women were scattered like they were nothing but trash. "Bleurghhh!" the king sputtered, dark blood that meant that his body wasn’t taking oxygen anymore. The princess saw the panic that the man hid behind his eyes, and Elysianne’s grip on him tightened. He was trying so hard not to pass out just yet before he could say his last words to his daughter. "I shouldn’t have done what I did, Father. My powers are uncontrollable..." "Shhh... Elys, darling..." her father reached out his old hands to cup her tiny face. "Do not fret... everything will be alright. You are strong... like your mother." "Father, mother is dead. They took her by the neck and hanged her by the castle gates. Our kingdom has fallen, Father. What is there to be alright?" Elys’ voice cracked, and she felt an overwhelming lump of sadness get stuck in her throat. But as heartbreaking as their predicament is, her tears never poured down. Her family was warriors... everyone in the northern kingdom was. They were trained from a young age to mask their emotions and never show weakness in front of the enemy. Elys had never shed a tear in her entire life. But now she was facing her dying father, the once great King Alaric Whitecaster, who was the very first of their people to learn magic. He was old, but his strength was still able to hold off an army of invaders until the very last. Why can’t she cry for him now? The fallen king smiled. His vision was getting blurry that he couldn’t even see his own daughter’s face. Elysianne was the beauty and pride of the kingdom. Her flaming scarlet hair and equally stunning ruby eyes were a rarity among the kingdom's silver-haired people. "Elys... I see my end is near. But yours... still beginning. Live on - avenge the kingdom, you have powers beyond what I have." He wheezed, and more blood came out of his already pale mouth. "Hah... It is your duty, Elys... go and - " The king was speaking in broken sentences, and eventually, he breathed his last, and the life of the king left him. "Father... father?!" King Alaric’s eyes closed halfway, and his head lolled like a broken doll. Elys shook her father, trying to get him to wake up, but all her efforts were in vain. The king has fallen, and his kingdom is on fire because of his daughter. The princess was left to mourn an empty shell, and the blasts of their enemies’ attacks were all she could hear. Women screamed as they were being assaulted, while children cried for their mothers. Mere human strength and wisdom weren’t enough to keep the enemy away. The menacing laughs of the enemy that pillaged their kingdom echoed in the empty and dark throne room. Elys thought she had seen a golden set of eyes glow in the dark, but her anger with herself consumed her so much that she was blinded senseless. She had let her guard down in the most critical of moments. There was a swift movement as the princess wasn’t able to notice the attack that was directed at her. A sharp pain pierced through her body as she heard herself scream in agony. Her eyes filled with red, and darkness enveloped her. And then, the princess woke up. "Aaahh!" "Your highness... are you alright?" The princess blinked her eyes rapidly, looking far away to see that her view of the kingdom wasn’t the same anymore. The pristine marbles of her home were changed with dark stones that had a tinge of orange, coppery shimmer in the dark. Where there used to be fire to keep her toes warm, there was nothing but cold and damp walls. The princess was not in her chamber. She was inside a common room shared by all the women who were taken from small villages as slaves. Elys swerved her head, and she saw that the dawn was breaking from a broken glass window that didn’t know what it was like to be cleaned for months – probably even for years on out. Ah, yes... she wasn’t in the northern kingdom anymore. And she was no longer a princess. "Your highness, was it the dream again?" A woman in her fifties hovered over Elys, wanting to do what she could to help her. More like a nightmare, Elys thought. Ever since that fateful night, the same dream has recurred every single night as if to remind her of the things that went wrong in her life. "You don’t need to call me with such high regard, Cordelia. We are of the same status now – slaves to the Ardorleans." There was a tinge of hatred in Elys’ voice, nd the woman noticed her sultry mood. Elys slinked off her bed, her bare feet gingerly touching the cold floor. Sweat had dampened her back, and she wanted to change her measly rag clothing before the day started. "Your highness, you are still the princess that I have had since the day you were born. I will never stop calling you such." "It has been more than two weeks since the northern kingdom fell, Cordelia. I am royalty no more. And you have no duty to me any longer. We should just focus on surviving for the day." Cordelia, the lady-in-waiting who had served the Whitecaster Castle for the longest time, was captured along with women from other places who were deemed to be useful to the Western Kingdom. Beautiful. Talented. Entertaining. Delicious. Those who were weak and useless died in terrible deaths. The men were massacred even as they fought to the very end, and the children weren’t even spared. It was a bloody defeat, a nd Elys clenched her fists in rage at the thought of her ruined kingdom. She made a terrible mistake with her magic, causing their men to become collateral damage that night. From that day on, Elys vowed never to use her magic again. The captured princess gazed at the dark room where the ladies were still asleep, tired from yesterday’s hard labor. Her eyes were finally adjusting to the darkness. "But your highness, I have served the royal family all my life - " "The Whitecasters are no more, Cordelia! We are at the mercy of the Ardorleans now. And you will see to it that you act appropriately, lest they see you as raising mutiny." The princess chastised in a whispered shout. They aren’t strong enough yet. The princess was alone, even if she chose to fight the Ardorleans. She can’t possibly win over all of them who were inherently born with magic. To avenge their people, Elys must find a way to get help from stronger allies. Cordelia’s brown eyes looked down, and she fiddled with the hem of her apron. She was already up and about earlier than the rest of the women inside the room, never missing her duties even as she had become a slave from being an esteemed noble lady of the North. Elys took a piece of a clean rag and got herself a bowl of water. She dampened the rag and began to clean herself as much as she could. The Ardorleans didn’t give much regard to the well-being of their slaves. Elys and Cordelia had been enslaved for more than a week, but with minimal food and water, paired with arduous labor, Elys observed that it didn’t take long for the women who had been there longer to grow thin and sickly. Many of them here were from smaller towns that were neither under the four great kingdoms. The women were frail compared to Elysianne and Cordelia. Their spirits were simply broken, but Elysianne knew she didn’t have the time to be like them. She needed to get up and fight in her way. "Your highness..." "Cordelia, I told you so many times. Call me by my name only, or else I will kill you myself. I cannot bear the thought of you being killed by the Ardorleans. And if you won’t obey me, then I will take matters into my own hands." Elys’ eyes blazed with anger, and the lady-in-waiting cowered before her presence. "Yes, your high – Ely... Sianne. I understand what you want, and I shall follow your orders." Cordelia bowed down. "Call me Elys from now on." "Yes, Elys." The once-upon-a-princess got up from cleaning herself and slipped off her nightgown. There wasn’t much of a difference to the dress she was going to change into, except that it had a second layer of fabric that made the cloth fit for labor. They were to go to the fields and try to cultivate the barren lands of the vampires. Footsteps clacked and echoed from the other side of the room, where the corridors were, and Elys knew whose footsteps they belonged to. "Wake the women, Cordelia. We will rise before an Ardorlean comes to whip us up." She ordered the lady-in-waiting. "The day is just beginning..."