The Witch and the Prince

Prologue

Darkness. Heavy breaths. Screams. Running water. The whoosh of branches. The yelps of a small child. A woman urging her to keep moving, to keep running.

The smell of her own blood filled the girl's senses so much so she could almost taste its metallicness. Rocks wedged themselves into her bare feet, but she did not stop, for she knew what would await her if caught. Both she and the women knew very well of their punishment should they fail.

Her cloak snagged, but she didn't bother stopping to see on what. The girl's frantic eyes scanned the green around them. If it were day, she thought, my eyes would blend right in. She wasn't given the luxury to mull it over, as the men were beginning to catch up. Their shouts rang through her ears like the bells by the docks.

The women suddenly stopped, blocked by some kind of invisible force. She pummeled her arms against the air again and again, to no avail. She reminded the girl of a trapped animal willing to chew its own limb off to escape. In the given situation, she knew that she'd gladly give an arm or leg to escape.

"Dammit!" The woman yelled under her breath, clearly trying to stay calm in front of the little girl. She turned, her eyes speeding along the branches and undergrowth with incredible speed, looking for something, or someone.

"Mitera!"

The woman's whole body seized up in recognition of the voice, but the girl couldn't possibly understand why. To her, the voice belonged to her uncle, a kind old soul, who would help the pair run away. He had always been there to pick the girl up when she fell, or when she needed a shoulder to cry on. So why was the woman so scared now? The little girl, for the life of her, just couldn't put the pieces together.

"Did you think you could escape him?" The voice asked, its owner still hidden in shadow. "Did you really think you could get away, much less with his daughter?" The woman scanned the shadows critically; she needed to find the man, to take him and his shield down.

The girl did the same, but for different reasons. She was momentarily distracted from her search when the woman cackled cruelly, bending over to cradle her stomach. It scared the girl to her bones, that laugh. "She's not his daughter," she yelled to the shadows in between breaths. "She's his weapon." With the woman now almost completely bent over from her cruel chuckle, the shadows opened like they were mere petals, to reveal the man.

He moved closer, but he wasn't the same man the little girl knew. He was a predator, a hunter, a lethal dagger in the dark. In his eyes laid the intent to kill for his king, where it had always been, just underneath the surface, invisible to the girl until now. The man stared at the woman, the girl stared at the man, and the woman stared at the ground, seeming to focus all her hatred onto it.

"Can she not be both?" he asked. The killer in his eyes intensified at that moment, and the girl knew what was going to happen next. She tried to look away, tried to pry her eyes from the man. Instead, her magic rose like a sleeping beast, ready to strike. And strike it did.

The moment the man's sword was about to come down on the woman, a shield was formed around her and the girl. The sword shattered, the pieces bouncing back towards the man's face. The girl only looked away from him when his cheeks became streaked with blood. She looked toward the shield she had created. In the forest moonlight, it shimmered a strange greenish silver. She studied it. When the girl moved to touch it, she found that it sparkled, similar to the spots one might see after standing too fast.

The quiet moment was soon interrupted by the man's screams. Yet the girl continued to study her barrier, absolutely fascinated with how his ruby blood mixed with the gleaming silver.

The woman quickly grabbed the girl's shoulders, shaking her out of the strange daze. "You must drop the shield," The women looked back towards the forest and its shadows that seemed to be reaching for them. "Now!"

The girl flinched, she wasn't used to being yelled at by the women, only soothed with her sweet melodies. But the kind woman who tucked her in was not there in the forest with the girl. A survivor stood in her place, a lioness trapped for too long, a falcon ready to fly again. But also a mother, one who, at the moment, was only trying to get her and her daughter out of their hellish lives.

The girl didn't know that, though. She knew very little of what was going on. The only thing she knew for sure is that they had to keep going, keep moving, keep running until they were far, far away. So she didn't respond, only relaxed enough for the shield to fall. The woman wasted no time in grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the bleeding man.

The pair scurried up a rocky mountainside, taking whatever cover they could find. The woman knew her way through the secret tunnels that protected the city and knew exactly how to lose their pursuers. "Come on," she whispered to the quaking girl. "The darkness will hide us, not hurt us." The woman gently tugged on the girl's hand. She knew her fear of the tunnels was not solely because they were dark, but also because they were so small.

Before the girl could protest, she heard shouts coming from below them. "They've found us," Her voice shivered with as much fear as her small body. The woman cursed under her breath.

"Mitera, stop!" The woman did no such thing. The girl noted that instead of fear filling her eyes like in the forest, annoyance filled her in waves. "You don't need to do this." The girl didn't look back at who was talking nor did the woman.

"You keep telling yourself that!" she yelled back, grabbing a lone torch at the entrance and moving forward. Before the voice could follow them, the entrance collapsed in a shower of dust and rubble. The noise that followed grated on the girl's ears like sharpening knives. A plume of dust flew out from the debris, making the girl's nose itch. Neither of the pair seemed surprised by the sudden cave-in.

"Finally!" The woman looked towards the ceiling of the tunnel. "The gods show their divine mercy." And despite the situation, the girl laughed.

The scene shifted in a blur of grays and blues to a small ledge over a deep chasm and the sound of rushing water paired with the desperate pleas of a child. The torch that the girl and woman had entered the tunnels with lay off to the side, still burning brightly, but not enough to keep all the shadows back.

"Please!" the girl screamed. "Please!" Her tears fell into the thin gravel, and onto her mother's paled body. "Please," she begged to whatever gods may be listening. The man from the forest with cuts streaming down his cheeks stood behind her silently.

"Demetria." His voice commanded attention, but the girl's focus was on the dying woman in front of her. "We're leaving now." The man attempted to pry the girl off of her mother, but she wouldn't budge. If the woman had to die, she wouldn't be alone. That was the thought replaying in the girl's head as she clung to her mother. She wouldn't be alone. She couldn't be alone, not in this damp cave, with no blue sky overhead, and the only light belonging to a sputtering torch.

The girl's only response was a shake of the head. She didn't want to leave. Didn't want to return to her gilded cage on the hill. She had promised her mother that she would be no one's weapon but her own. Her abilities, no matter how good or bad they could be, were hers to control, no one else's. And the girl herself, she was as wild and untamable as the sea. She would not be handled, taken, locked away, and told what to do or who to hurt. No. That was not her way, not her purpose.

She turned towards the man. Her tanned, calloused hand reached for his ankle. When she had a firm grip on it, she let her magic do the rest. Energy filled her. Bright and unrestrained. It left the man and went to her mother through her. The girl shined as bright as a star. But she was only a bridge for the energy.

She could've, should've, killed the man for hurting the woman, but that wasn't what her mother would want. The next few moments blurred together, then her mother was standing, with a small dagger gripped in her hand. She pushed the girl over the edge, right as the dagger plunged through the shadows, and across the man's dark neck.

The girl hit the cold water, her back arching and her breath taken away.