Chapter 3-In Our Midst

Immor felt warm. She frowned slightly in confusion as she shifted her body against the soft feeling beneath her. She frowned as she opened her eyes realizing where she was. She had been put in the clothing room. Someone had probably thrown her on the furs that were meant for the seamstresses.

She shifted her legs, hearing more than feeling the chains around her ankles. She raised herself on her hands, eyes narrowed as she looked her situation over.

Sure enough, she was sitting on the pile of furs her father had hunted and sent to the seamstress She hated it then and she hated it now. She wrapped her arms around her knees and looked around the small stone storage room. It was cold to keep the furs fresh and clean so no bugs would be able to get into them. The chains were around her ankles without shackles, and they were digging into her skin. She frowned down at them, noting that the chains were linked to a large iron ball.

Immor stared at the front of her dress, her eyes taking in all the blood covering the light white layers of cloth. It had been her favorite dress, and she had worn it because she thought she was going to die in it. She wished she had.

She pressed her hand to her face, “How could she say she hated me? The only one that loved her? I did not pity her…” she sobbed, her hands covering her face as if forcing the tears back into her body.

Immor brushed her tears back, breathing deeply as she tried to figure out what had happened and piece everything together. That morning, she thought, what had happened that morning? She breathed in slowly and leaned back against the furs.

She had woken up to enjoy the morning before the sun rose as she always did. Nahlaya liked to sleep in until the sun was hanging far into the sky, so she did not disturb her sister sleeping in the room next to hers. She dressed in a plain gown and ran out to see if she could find the cooks to teach her another pastry for breakfast. She had been doing the same thing all her life, waking up and learning to cook one new thing. It had come to a stop when she was fourteen and went to finishing school, but the moment she came back three years later it had resumed and the cooks acted as if she had not left.

She did not find the cooks that morning, but she heard plenty of noise. She had gone back up the stairs to the war room where everyone was in a hurry and that was when the trouble had begun.

The war ships of Bringdon were at the front steps of Woredon. The people had fled in the night when the fight had begun in the south and now, they had arrived. She had no idea that they were there, and her father had said nothing. Her mother would not be woken up, telling everyone to give her poison to let her die in bed.

Immor was not unwise, but she decided to stay and fight till the death with her family. She was not willing to give up the only person she loved. She had woken her sister Nahalaya up and packed her a bag after telling her to dress and eat what she had prepared for her. She told Nahalaya to run as fast she could to Woreden woods and find her people who protect her. She knew that witches were a close pack, and she was sure they would take her in. At first, Nahalaya seemed to be happy to go. The attack was coming from the sea, and Woreden woods were on the other side of the castle where it had not been breached. She had taken her down the secret passage, said farewell, and bid her go.

Nothing ever went her way. After dressing in her favorite gown without the hoops and decorations, she had grabbed a sword and gone to her mother’s door to stand firm and not let anyone through. She hated her mother, but it was the duty of a daughter, as her father kept reminding her all her life. She hated him as well.

The soldiers tore down the walls surrounding the city. They destroyed the temple that was sitting before the castle and ripped through the knights as if they were nothing but wooden dolls. They destroyed everything across the bridge, and down the long pathway towards the castle until they had destroyed the royal guard and the knights. Most got away through the woods, though there were terrors enough in there.

Then it was the worst part. They took the courtyard and beheaded her father without trial, staking his head on a pike and putting in the middle of the pavilion. She did not doubt that her father deserved worse, but she did not care. For her, evil did not fight evil. Only good could make it right, and there was nothing good in Bringdon.

The prince of devils swept in and attacked her family, taking out her cousin and only heir to the Dukedom of Woreden. Then he destroyed the knights and knocked her down as if she was nothing no matter how hard she fought. She had been trained for something and could not believe that he could have knocked her down so easily. She felt humiliated and angry, but he did not kill her. He had grabbed her by the hair and dragged her down to the courtyard while his guards captured the cowardly duchess who shrieked the whole way down. It was not a short way and her scalp ached.

Then the worse happened. It had been hours since she had gotten Nahlaya out. Yet, her sister had returned without her bags or coat or shoes. Then she had killed herself. The only person she had wanted to see alive and well was now dead.