The head that was rolling a while before it finally stopped, the blood splashing all over the stage, the royals delighted by the blood and the cruelty, and the entire city watching the scene like a performance; still everything flashing in her mind, Elysia swallows down the bile that is still rising in her throat, despite being back in the place where she should feel safe and at home.
Behind her, the gargoyles are growling at their handler, refusing to go to their stable. Elysia stretches her wings and takes off into the air, heading straight to her chambers, instead of going inside the tower and taking the stairs. Everything that has happened causes her to remember twelve years back when she had to start drinking the potion.
“Why don’t we just escape, mother? We can live in the forest.”
“We can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You are only 7 years old, my child, too young to under
I am not a human. I am—I am different. I am a princess. But I am not a fairy-tale princess because, in fairy tales, other children and little animals love them, aren’t they? Me? They hide from me. I know I scare them. Even though I am stupid, I know that much. Kannax tells me all the time that I am the dumbest and ugliest among father’s children. I turned 10 years old last month. Ever since then, I had thought my mother would let me go out together with her; as I was not that young anymore. Instead, I was scolded. I did not give up though. Yesterday, when no one was looking, I hid in a cart that would go out of the palace grounds. It was easier than I thought. At least that’s what I thought on the way out. I’ve never stepped foot in the outside world and I’ve never seen human children. Small giggles and shouts led me to two girls and one boy on the street full of rickety buildings.They were around my age. Although their clothes were dirty, unl
Under the night sky, castles and towers in the capital city of the Great North are strangely luminescent, glittering like the stars themselves, while the rest of the establishments are in the dark. Mayhem City is a combination of contradictions, the light and the dark, the rich and the poor, and the oppressor and the oppressed. There are things in the air, gliding, flying; they are too huge to be birds. They look somehow human but not quite, given their horns and bat-like wings. In the outskirts of the city, one unfortunate human who dared to be out on the streets after the daylight has now become their prey. A group of those winged creatures drained his blood and left him on the ground to die. Elysia seems to never her lesson; if anything, the lessons have made her numb and thick-skinned. Even though she was thrown into the dungeon nearly nine years ago, she is sneaking out of the palace grounds as usual. As being the place the king is residing, it is almost impossi
It can easily be the busiest quarter in the city, with the main bazaar and the biggest auction house in the entire kingdom. Shoppers are walking, flying, some in chains, on the streets occupied by innumerable establishments. When a royal entourage comes flying towards the auction house, everyone in the quarters halt to give them a curious glance and continues whatever they were doing a moment before, except the ones who look perfectly human and in chains—they bow down on the ground. Even though they look beaten down with fresh scars on their bodies, their burning anger is visible, through their white knuckles and their eyes, targeting not only the ones who are holding their chains but the ones surrounded by many royal guards, who are heading towards the tallest building in this quarter. A tall black cylindrical tower is a stark contrast with the clear sky and the other buildings. The entourage lands on the rooftop. Down the carpet stairs, this floor is
Two days ago… Pain. That was the first thing that came into his mind of total blankness.What was happening to him? That was the first question that he asked himself. He could feel the earth underneath his back in immense pain. He tried to open his eyes. Blurry and unfocused, he was blinded by the brightness just as he grasped the vagueness of trees and the sky beyond them. The next time when he opened his eyes, he found himself in another place, iron bars in front of him. He couldn’t move an inch except for his head. His hands and legs were spread eagle, manacled, and chained to the hard surface behind him. He could not tell how much time had passed but could be an hour when the iron door opened and someone came in. The creature standing before him instantly disgusted him, and he didn't know why. The one standing before him had black horns and bat wings. Demon, the word came into him out of nowhere. "What are you?" ask
Five years ago…The setting sun was no longer able to light up Mayhem City’s darkest corners, which filled with things, and lives, or the lack of life that no one deemed useful. A scrawny figure was walking slowly on a narrow lane. Barefooted, the dress too worn out and torn around the edges, the girl looked 15 at most.In her hands were two apples. She was embracing them with her trembling hands as if some stolen treasure. Around the corner of the lane were two shadows, one of them had curvy horns and huge wings. At first glance, they were embracing each other but at the closer look, the winged shape was gripping too tight the other one who was struggling in vain.At the sudden sight of it, the girl threw herself against the nearest wall, making herself even smaller than she already was. The struggling one made one last movement before he stilled completely. At last, the hunter took off into the air, dropping his prey to the ground
One hour ago… He saw the sunlight for the first time since he has gotten conscious chained to the wall. The demons pulled him at his hardest by the chains; although it would not make any difference to him, they never stop trying. He was aware of that everyone was staring at him as if some kind of exotic creature. There was something different about him, other than just his apparent features. A bustling place, a cobbled street with stalls and shops everywhere in his line of sight, with demons busy coming and going and also humans; the difference was most of the humans were in chains like him. Some were being either whipped or beaten. What a disgusting place this was. The voice coming from his right interrupted his trail of thoughts. “Don’t be so happy yet,” taunts the demon, “We will be waiting for you, pretty boy, when she doesn’t want you anymore.” The other two demons howl as if this was some kind of
She hands him the keys before going back to her seat. “I think you might need some shirt,” she mumbles out more to say something than anything else. “Do I?” is his response, removing the rest of the manacles and chains. “I don’t think you have told me your name,” Elysia inquires, now with a good distance between them. He lounges back on his chair, still shirtless. He really needs a shirt, she can’t help thinking. “What is yours?” Elysia is caught off guard by his question. “What?” “Your name, sweetheart,” he answers reprimandingly, “You should say your name first. It’s the courtesy, isn’t it?” Her temper rises, “Don’t call me sweetheart!” Who is he to reprimand her and to call her sweetheart, no matter how attractive he is? This guy doesn’t understand the situation he is in. She was thinking to secretly free him, if possible—it is a great risk to do so, probably dangerous, becaus
The castle stands tall, proud and foreboding, like a mountain, at the center of the complex of gardens, surrounded by rectangular towers and smaller buildings in a different part of the palace grounds, similar to the king is being bowed down by his subjects. “I have one question, my son,” says the king from his throne on the dais, fixing his sitting posture. The cavernous room is empty except for three, the king, his son, and his newest consort already exiting the room, her glittering sheer gown sweeping and reflecting on the smooth inky floor in her wake. “Anything, sir,” responds Kannax standing at the foot of the dais. “I heard about a rebel movement that was happening under my nose. Why didn’t you report that to me?” The king drops his hands on the arms of the throne, which looks to be cut out of one huge stone, raw and bland like other decorations in the room and the room itself. With a controlled voice, the prince replies slowly, “Rebel movement