ASHALAN

It was the warmth of the blood that caught Ashalan by surprise. Given the evil that they had made her endure, she had never considered her enemy's blood would be anything but cold. The droplets that hit her cheek as she drove her dagger repeatedly into the guards heart, proved otherwise. It had a distinct smell to it, a smell like the metallic corroding of time, rusty in its aroma. The scent permeated the air, dulling her ability to think clearly. She closed her eyes. The colour red pulsed behind her eyelids, rhythmically matching the beat of her stabbing motion. In an attempt to clear her nostrils, she turned her head upward, took a deep breath and stopped.

She had never killed before, not a human anyway. The situation she was in brought mixed emotions. She felt intense sadness for taking a life, yet an intense hatred that drove her to do so. Her years in captivity had left her raw. Was this man, this being underneath her, even human anymore? She could no longer tell the difference between man and beast. Hearing a faint whisper, Ashalan's head snapped down, eyes open. Her victim mumbled something incoherent and opened his mouth to cry out. She swiftly clamped her hand over it forcing him into a muffled sob instead. Blood bubbled between her fingers and the man lay still, staring upwards with watery eyes. She sat over him and watched him take his last breath. His eyes rolled back and she removed her hand slowly, letting his head loll to the side. As she looked at the newly formed corpse in the dimly lit cavern, emptiness filled her heart.

She stood up carefully, her pale malnourished frame shaking, her muscles stiff with exhaustion. She returned her dagger to the leather belt around her waist and she looked down at her blood stained clothes, wiping her hands on her threadbare canvas tunic. the blood had already started to dry and crust on her skin. Her leather pants and boots also bore evidence of the attack. She stood quietly and looked at her hands, the tools that had just savagely laid a man to an eternal rest. Beneath the red she could see the fine lines that were ingrained in her palms, put there from years of toil in the mines that had become her home. Each one a symbol of her hatred for the false Queen, the one the guards called ‘Seraphine’.

The smell of blood from her victim overwhelmed her senses, making it hard to concentrate. The ache of hunger and rage rose within her from the depths of her stomach and she dropped down to her knees and grabbed the man's jaw in her hand. She leant forward to examine him more closely. The smell taunted her. She felt her mouth go dry. 

“Ashalan! Stop!” A voice roared above her. She ignored it and leant in closer, sniffing the man's sweat and blood stained skin. The scent was palpable. Her heart beat faster.

”Break it's hold Ashalan, break the power.” Her hand was smacked away with the hilt of a sword. She looked up – her vision clouded. She blinked to clear it. Tobalas stood over her. Her friend that she thought of more as a father looked down at her with a frown across his brow. She blinked again. She would never disobey his command. He and his wife Geralah had brought her up as their own after she had been kidnapped and placed in the depths of the cave with the others. He had been a knight of the King's secret guard, The Knights Of Haaden, before he had been taken prisoner too. 

The Knights of Haaden were legendary soldiers bestowed with mystical powers, entrusted with swords forged of magic and sourced from the heart of the earth itself. When Tobalas had been captured he was just a young man, now the man that stood before her was old and his skin gray from the years underground. He had met his wife there in the caves, another captive. Geralah had disappeared only months before, both Ashalan and Tobablas had been heart broken. Once a ‘Caver’ disappears, they are never seen again.

Tobalas grabbed her by her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. She was surprised at the strength he had for an old man. He shook her hard and slapped her face. The shock of it brought her out of the hunger induced haze. He held her steady and looked into her eyes.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Do not fall into the temptation of despair Princess. By eating human flesh or drinking human blood, you will be lost to us.” Ashalan nodded mutely and hung her head. “You are our last hope Ashalan. Your people depend on you.” He let her go and she dropped to her knees. The rage subsided and was replaced with a dull longing.

“I need to eat Tobalas. I'm growing weak.”

“Find strength from within Princess Ashalan, let it reign inside you. You must keep going. We have to get you out of the cave tunnels before day break.” He reached out to her and she took his hand as he helped her to her feet. “If we found ourselves in the tunnels at day break it would mean certain death. Once the transformation has begun there is no stopping it.” 

Ashalan nodded slowly. The enormity of the situation began to sink in. She was Princess Ashalan of the Kingdom of Haaden. Her father and mother were the King and Queen, Rulers of the Haaden empire. Here people she represented were the captives, the cavers, a community of hundreds who were held prisoner in the caverns. She had been stolen just over twelve years ago when she was only six years old. Taken during the Salvation Day celebrations, her nanny who had tried to protect had been killed in front of her. She shuddered at the memory.

Two men came to join them. One was very muscular in stature, the other was stockier built.

“We have disposed of the others. We got to them before they raised the alarm.” The muscular man reported.

“Good work Joely.” Tobalas patted the young man on the back.

The stockier one reached into his tunic and pulled out a leather drinking pouch. He handed it to Ashalan. She nodded thank you and took it. She removed her hood with her other hand, letting her long auburn hair fall in waves past her shoulders. Her hair had been golden auburn when she was younger. But after many transformations it had become a fiery red shade. She took a long drink, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gave the pouch back to the man. He put it back in his tunic then turned to help Joely cover the slain guards with rocks. They stacked them as quietly as they could so that the covered bodies resembled the cave walls around them.

“There will be more guards on the way so we must be vigilant.” Tobalas turned with a swish of his cloak and motioned for them to follow him. They entered a tunnel which was just tall enough for them to walk upright comfortably. The walls were damp and dark and slimy moss grew up the sides, giving them an unusual texture. Ashalan combed her fingers through her hair to remove it from her face, tendrils of it had started to stick to her skin with the perspiration. 

She looked around as they walked and figured that they must be getting towards the surface given the mossiness of the walls. Nothing grew in the deep recesses of the caves, it surprised Ashalan that she and the others had survived for so long. They relied on the guards for their food and fresh water which was given to them three times a day. Meager amounts to keep them fed but weak enough to not cause a disturbance. When their transformation took place they were taken to the larger caverns and chained to the floors, Ashalan gently rubbed her wrists at the thought of it.

They turned a corner and Tobalas pushed Ashalan back against the wall behind him. He motioned for the others to stop.

“Seraphine's guards.” He whispered harshly.

Ashalan took a deep breath. 

“They'll be searching for you.” Turning, he looked at her, she nodded mutely in acknowledgement.

Ashalan looked back at Tobalas. He sounded exhausted, the transformations took a large toll on his body now. His once strong and muscular physique was now worn and frail and he was battling the new sickness that was going through the community, eating away at them from the inside, as their other selves took over. 

She owed Tobalas her life and now was the time to make payment by saving his. Not only had he raised her, he had trained her in all levels of combat and trained her well.

Setting her stance into a combative mode, she lifted her fists and summoned what remained of her energy.

She was ready.