Spellbound

Prologue

The weather wasn't the most pleasant with the dark skies and constant lightning strikes, followed by loud claps of thunder. The carriage rattled, and the dark haired, amber eyed king sighed.
They were surrounded by forest and were travelling along the only road that led to the village where they were headed. It was a small village, one hardly worth remembering, but this particular village was home to a large, stone tower that served as a prison. The village itself was located not far from the foreign country's citadel.

His advisor and most trusted friend sat across from him, watching him closely.
"What's on your mind?" the blue-eyed man asked.
"I don't know what they're thinking, giving me just one of their prisoners." The king replied. "It's a ridiculous trade."
His advisor smiled. "They do like to torture their victims, I hear."
The king snorted with disgust.

The sun had well and truly set by the time they arrived at the village. The pair were greeted by a soldier who was fully armed and wearing his full armour.
"Good evening." The blue-eyed man greeted the soldier, "you must be General Rin."
The soldier looked a little amused. "No sir. I'm the commanding officer of this village."
The king stepped forward, his eyes cold. "We had agreed to be greeted by General Rin. Where is he?"
The soldier blinked. "He had sudden business in the eastern region, and thus asked me to escort you."
The king kept a straight face, though he was more than displeased at the news. He was angry-almost infuriated. It was as if this country if normal humans wanted the truce to completely fail.
"Very well," his advisor murmured, "Please show us through."

The soldier turned and led the way to the tall tower. The king followed behind with his advisor at his side. The soldier pulled open the heavy wooden door to let the pair in, and they then proceeded up the spiral staircase. They passed many cells and the air was thick with blood, sweat and piss. As they passed the cells, the king noticed the prisoners all looked as if their souls had been completely and utterly crushed, but he honestly wasn't surprised. None of these prisoners deserved this hell.
"How much farther?" the king asked irritably as they continued to climb higher and higher.
"She's at the top." Came the reply.
The king frowned, more intrigued than anything else. Who was this prisoner that they had to keep at the top of the tower?

The king observed the prisoners as he passed by them, finding the higher they climbed, the older the prisoners were. He briefly wondered how old the woman he would soon be meeting was.
Then, they came to a halt.
"This is her." The soldier grunted. "Nothing special."

The king turned his eyes to the cells inhabitant. Pale moonlight slithered through the window to illuminate a young woman who appeared to be severely battered and bruised, her pale opalescent skin covered in blood, mud, severe bruises and wounds. Her short caramel coloured hair was filthy and knotted, and she was essentially only wearing a rag to cover her thin frame. She neither moved nor made any sign of noticing them if she had at all.

The king watched her for a long few minutes, feeling anger and hate for the people who had hurt her. How could such a delicate woman pose such a huge threat? It was then that he made up his mind.