Silena's Song

The Beginning / Chapter One

Hi!! This is my first published story so please excuse any errors or anything. I'm not used to writing in first person either so I'm writing this to practice. Please excuse any historical errors as I'm too lazy to do research. Enjoy :)

I had dreams of the contest that my father had held when I was nine. It was a competition, all the kingdoms coming together. It was exciting, one of the only things I had enjoyed a child. Me and my father sat in front of the crowd, him in a throne and me on the floor next to it. I looked pathetic, like a servant next to my father. He lent me the laurel crown, which I was just barely trusted with. Holding the leafy headpiece was an honor in itself. The first part of the competition was sparring. The youngest group had went first. Ages five to ten. All were boys, grabby hands and little muscle, but with cold expressions. There was one exception though, a girl amongst the crowd. I was surprised, startled even. Females weren't allowed to compete. She must've been very rich for my father to even consider her for competition. Her expression wasn't cold, but deadly, homicidal even, and her hands didn't look grabby, just well built. Unlike the other competitors, she was skinnier than the rest. Her hair, brown, I recall, was pulled back with a piece of leather. It looked shiny, but what would I know? I could barely see her facial features. All I knew was that she looked ready to win, ready to beat every male in that competition. I was slightly proud, a grin playing on my face before my father glared at me. I was supposed to act like a princess, no emotion and only there to show beauty. But then again, there was a girl competing in the fighting part of the games. It was odd, seeing her thin (but muscular) build next to several other children who looked like they ate entire horses for breakfast.
    There was a bell (or was it a different kind of noise maker?) that sounded the start of the games. Two boys, from kingdoms I did not recognize, were the first two to go. They seemed the youngest of the small group of boys and girl. The two of the threw themselves at each other, fists hitting skin and hollering from the crowd. There was blood. I covered my eyes. Another loud sound echoed throughout the arena. One of the boys had won, pinning the other for a set amount of time. I hardly paid attention to the other fights, my eyes covered with my hands to avoid seeing the red sticky substance that now littered the arena. The only time I watched was when the girl competed. "Clarisse La Rue," The crowd booed as her name was called, only my cheering and a few others. My father glared at me again. La Rue. I knew that last name. This girl was the princess of Phthia. "and Aesop Fotos." This time, the cheering was louder. The two of them walked forward. I had watched intently. 'What if this girl made an embarrassment of herself? What if she got badly injured, killed even?' I had thought. It had happened before, and she was quite obviously smaller than the other boys (though, she was taller).
Another sounding of the bell rung, and Clarisse and Aesop ran at each other like they were meant to kill. Fists hit fists, and Aesop swung blindly at the girl. He seemed to rely on strength, and it seemed Clarisse relied on both her strength and strategy. She kicked, taking him out from his knees, and he hit the floor heavily. That must've been painful. Aesop's blood mixed with the rest that laid on the ground. He began to get up, but Clarisse straddled him, pinning him for the amount of time that was needed. She had won, and Aesop had lost to a girl. 'He will never live this down,' I remember thinking. But what did that matter? A girl had fought, and a girl had won. That was all that was on my mind.

There was another thing I remembered from my childhood, the thing that hard started it all. It had started when I was in the courtyard. I was being taught music, a subject which I hated (I was much more into the visual arts and makeup, thank you very much). I was a princess, I shouldn't have been ridiculed for anything, seeing as how I was royalty. My mother was a goddess, Aphrodite, and my father was a rich king. My father didn't care what I did or what happened to me, I was there to look pretty. Which was easy, as I was often told I excelled at the only task I was given. Seeing as how both my mother and father both didn't care what happened to me (Aphrodite had too many children to only pay attention to one), I was often pestered by the other rich children. That day, my music teacher had given me a brush. It was beautiful. Although I wasn't very fond of music in itself, I adored my music teacher to no end. She was the only who was kind to me.
    After the lesson had ended, the brush was given to me, and my mentor bid farewell, that was when I had run into the fields. I was supposed attend a meeting with my father, something about a treaty with a close by town. Of course, I was only to go to persuade them with my beauty. I figured my father could do without me, if only just for a moment. I remember distinctly the feel of the grass as I had sat down and the way the wind had shifted my hair. The magic of the charming ways of nature was interrupted quite quickly. One second I was brushing my black hair, and the next it was being demanded that I handed over the brush. That brush was the only thing I held dear, why in the gods would I give it away? I had only just gotten in. A pair of hands grabbed at the brush, saying as how I didn't deserve it, and suddenly I was standing. The boy who was in attempt to take my brush was a foot taller than me, it seemed. 'Hand it over, princess! You don't even deserve something like that,' He sneered. I had had enough with the other children's business. I pushed, shoved, really, and he fell back. A loud knock rang throughout the courtyard and the stench of blood filled my nose. Our land was flat, grass scattering the land. But it was also a land of rocks and shells, and now one of those very rocks was covered in blood and regret. I had killed a boy. I dropped the brush and ran. I wasn't a very fast runner, but did I run. My legs had carried me away, thoughts of the broken skull and blood filled my head.
    Servants found me several miles away from the castle, covered in my own tears and puke. I had probably looked pathetic, I was sure at least one of the servants pitied me. I had just accidentally killed a man! I tried to run, but the servants grabbed, dragging me to my father.
    Punishment was severe for killed a boy, especially a rich person's son. It was either death, exile, or if you were a girl, the possibility of being sold into slavery. The last two were found to be worse than death.
    My father was a smart man. Having me killed would come with expensive funeral payments and sending me away in exile would make him look monstrous. He went with selling me away. I was to be sold to the king of Phthia.
    A few days passed while my departure was prepared. I had nothing to take with me, nothing I held so dear. I was put in a carriage, surrounded by a few dresses and gifts for the king of Phthia. Although he should have technically paid my father, which would very well be done, my father sent gifts, as if to say 'Thank you for buying my daughter, as nobody else would want her.' At least, that was my idea for the cause. We left as soon as the carriage was packed, horses leading the carriage, and a few castel guards surrounding it. Until I reached Phthia, I was still a princess. Precautions needed to be taken, even though they were most likely just to make my father look like a good example.
    It took days to reach Phthia. In that time I had memorized what was in the carriage. Three dresses, a golden necklace, a bowl with the story of Aphrodite inscribed in it, and a beautiful painting of Athena. The ride seemed too long, with me sitting in a carriage that bumped for days straight. It was uncomfortable, but I took it was a luxury, the days to come would most likely be gruesome. I was to be a slave. I was terrified. Would I just clean? Polish? Or would I do other things? I didn't know what slaves did. I didn't get the right to have any at the castle.
    Finally the day had come. The carriage filled with gifts, dresses, and myself came to a stop. Guards from Phthia came outside and the guards from my kingdom took the horses and left. There was no going back in that moment. They took me inside. "The king is doing business elsewhere," One of the guards said. "You'll be introduced to the princess until he returns." So I was brought down several hallways, up a staircase and made a few turns. Then I was brought to a door. The guards waited. I opened it, walking inside. The princess of Phthia laid on a bed, her hands lazily polishing a spear. She didn't seem to notice me. I walked forward more and she turned her head. "What's your name?" She asked. I was too starstruck to say anything. This was the girl who had won a fighting competition, one I was so amazed by when I was nine. She was a princess, and it seemed she had rights. I doubted her father would ever sell her away into slavery. She asked again. "What is your name?" It was louder this time, so I had to reply. "Silena Beauregard." I regretted saying my last name. I would have to distance myself from my old kingdom to start my new life, I had assumed. I straightened my back and shoulders. "Hmph. Silena. I'm Clarisse. Welcome to Phthia," She muttered, sleepily almost. She said my name with such precision, I was astounded. But I was also upset, confused even at the lack of attention given to me. I was a princess! I also knew dismissal when I heard it, and so I opened the door and left.
    That had started my life at Phthia. As soon I was done being introduced, the guards led me to a hall near ground level and across the palace from the Princess's room. There were doors on each side, all wooden, and the walls were cement. It wasn't very spectacular. "Slave quarters," One of the guards mumbled, leading me to a room. I almost tripped over my own feet. I would have to get used to that word quickly. One of the guards opened the door, leading to a room with no windows and four cots. He pushed me inside and locked the door. There was a table in the corner, a flower pot on it. The pink sheets that laid on the cots were frayed and worn. There were two girls in the room, both sitting on the same bed. "Ooo. A newbie. Princess, I'm assuming?" One of the girls said. She had green eyes, which was a little uncommon, and dark blonde hair. A little on the bigger side as well. The other girl scoffed. "As if she could be a princess, Lou. Just look at her." This girl seemed to care much more about her appearance, that or she was just naturally prettier. Her straight black hair was tossed over her shoulder, and her brown eyes contrasted with her white dress perfectly. She sat up, with her shoulders back. Maybe this other girl was also a princess, as she presented herself as one.
"Don't mind Drew. She's the worst." The girl, Lou, laughed. "Anyways, I'm sure you'll get used to this life easily. Clean in the daytime, pleasure the males in the night. Simple, really." Drew rolled her eyes. "Did you bring any dresses? There's no way I'll be sharing mine with you," I had realized that I in fact did not have my dresses. The guards had taken them, perhaps presuming them as gifts? "I bought dresses. The guards have them. Is there anyway to maybe call them back or something?" I had asked. Lou laughed. "If anything, you'll be lucky if those dresses aren't stored away in Princess Clarisse's closet. She doesn't even wear them, though for some reason all they do is bring her them." She explained. "For now, you can borrow some of mine," She glared at Drew, as if to blame her. "Though I'm not sure they'll fit. You're much taller." Taller? I had considered myself short in terms of average height. She must've been incredibly small. Now that I thought about it, she seemed a foot shorter than Drew, and they were both sitting. 
"Alright. Thank you," With that, I sat on the bed across from them. I wasn't sure I'd be able to get used to this 'slave life' quite so easily. But I would have to, even if I made a fool of myself along the way.