The sun was shinning down on Azareth. She didn’t know what time it was, but the sun had been up for sometime. She injuries weren’t as sore as they had been and most of her cuts had begun to heal over. What bothered her the most were the people. They were walking around getting on with their day, but would stop and stare at her. She could see them whispering to each other, pointing at her. Azareth felt like a freak, like she had been back when she started her lessons back in Truffween.

The first day of lessons was supposed to be fun and exciting. The young elves were all taken to the seminary hall. Inside was a large room full of different objects to test the young elves abilities. Each object was related to one of the different gifts, a small flower, a bowl of water, a lit candle, a leaf you they would have to try and move with the wind. There were also strength, speed and agility tests. The young elves would take turns going up to each object and testing each to see which ability they matched with.

Azareth tried all the objects and ran through every test they offered. When she didn’t connect with anything, all the other children laughed at her. She could still hear them laughing, reminding her how she failed. She could hear them laughing as she sat on the ground. As the wind blew dust around the her, it brough the laughter of those children.

“She’s still alive?” Azareth heard a dep voice coming from the direction of the castle. She turned her head slightly and saw the princes were walking down the stairs. They all looked at her with slight impressed expressions on their faces.

“Stubborn little cretin, isn’t she?” Sargus said. Azareth turned away and held her head up high. The seven men surrounded her and looked down at her. She stared up at them, not wanting to show any fear.

“Time for your trial,” Federyc said. He gestured for one of his younger brothers to untie her from the pole. Ulric reached around the pole and took a hold of the chain. Azareth was forced to her feet and they began to drag her towards the castle. Azareth winched as she walked on her wounded feet, every step more painful than the last. She looked to her right and saw Emeric was looking at her with sad eyes. He gave her a quick nod and she felt a small spark of hope ignite in her chest.

The throne room was full of staff and noble men and women. Azareth felt her stomach turn as the princes dragged her towards Bledric. She managed to limp her way towards the throne and the monstrous king. Everyone in the room watched her, little whispers filled the room as she walked forward. Bledric looked pleased when he saw the state she was in.

Her face and body bruised a deep shade of purple that was almost black. Her bare arms and legs covered in small red cuts. Her feet that felt as if they had reopened and were bleeding, leaving bloody foot prints in her wake. She saw how smug he was, how proud he felt to have broken her down.

When Azareth stopped in front of Bledric, Renfry came up and pushed her to the ground. Azareth landed hard, her knees hitting the stone floor. She winced and leaned on her hands for a moment of support. Wiscar came forward, grabbed her shoulder roughly and forced her to sit back on her knees. Azareth locked eyes with Bledric and her smirked at her.

“My dear queen, look how you’ve fallen,” Bledric said. He leaned on the arm of his throne, staring down at her. Azareth forced herself to keep eye contact and to remain calm. She wanted nothing more than to burn him and his city to the ground. She wanted the spell on her to break so she could take her revenge.

“You are being charged with the crime of treason, how to do plea?” Bledric asked her, wanting her to retaliate. Azareth knew this, she wasn’t going to give in to him. She stayed silent. Bledric grew impatient and turned to his sons, he gave them a nod. Azareth heard footsteps approach her, then a sharp pain went through her back as she was kicked. She slumped forward gritting her teeth.

“Answer him,” Federyc growled behind her. She looked up through her messy hair and stared at Bledric. She shook her head and pushed herself up. When she was sitting up, she glared at the king. His eyes widened for a moment when her eyes flashed a bright burning colour. He shoved the feeling away and pretended he didn’t see anything.

“I am innocent,” Azareth told him. Everyone in the room gasped and burst into whispers.

“Silence,” Bledric yelled. The room fell silent. Azareth’s eyes burned into Bledric as he thought about what to do. “Do you deny claiming the throne of Berlar?”

“No,” Azareth said.

“Do you deny taking one of my allies prisoner?”

“Captain Sansun is a traitor, he deserves execution for his betrayal. I gave him mercy by imprisoning him.”

“So you admit to it,” Bledric said. The smug look on his face gave Azareth an uneasy feeling. Her stomach turned as he grinned menacingly at her. “I can’t let this go.”

“Just get on with it, you coward,” Azareth spat. She pushed herself up to her feet and staggered a moment. She heard the princes’ unsheathed their swords behind her, but she didn’t stand down. “You made your decision a long time ago.”

“Azareth of Berlar, I sentence you to execution by beheading,” Bledric said. Azareth felt her stomach drop and her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment. She looked back up at Bledric and he smiled sickly at her.

“Take her away,” Bledric said. Azareth felt the chain around her neck pulled in the direction away from the throne. As she was dragged out of the throne room, the nobles cheered and rejoiced in her sentencing.

The dungeon was damp and cold. The only light that came through was from a small crack in the wall. Azareth sat on the floor in the farthest corner she could hide in. The chain was attached to the wall, she barely had enough length to sit where she was. She was relieved to be alone away from the hate filled eyes of the people of Asleria. She stared at the bars across from, wishing they would magically open. The old metal bars were strong. She saw small amounts of rust near the walls, but there was still no hope of breaking them.

There were footsteps coming from down the hallway. Azareth pulled her knees in tight to her chest, making herself as small as possible. A faint glow from a torch began to grow, causes shadows to dance across the walls. As her eyes adjusted to the new light, a man stopped in front of the cell. Emeric appeared and Azareth could feel the light of hope in her chest.

“I don’t have much time, but I need you to know,” Emeric said. Azareth leaned forward and tried to stand up. She watched as he glanced around nervously, checking over his shoulder to see if he was followed. Azareth struggled to her feet, then stumbled to the bars of the cell.

“What is it?” Azareth asked. He focused on her and pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket. Azareth took the paper as he held it out to her through the bars.

“I received this this morning, I didn’t have time to show you before the sentencing.”

“A letter?” Azareth asked, he unfolded the paper and scanned the writing. It wasn’t familiar to her, but she only knew her parents hand writing by heart.

“I believe it is from one of your advisors, there’s a name at the bottom,” Emeric said. Azareth read over the letter carefully, trying not to miss anything.

To Prince Emeric,

How dare you taunt us! Telling us Queen Azareth has been taken hostage and there’s nothing we can do for her. You are going to regret what you’ve done. What is coming for you will forever haunt you.

Jurah Fuimora

8-16-22-30-31-21

“Yes, it is,” Azareth said. She smiled and felt tears stinging in her eyes, as relief washed over her. She read the coded message, Azareth we are coming for you.

“I’ll burn that, we don’t want it falling into the wrong hands,” Emeric said. Azareth nodded her head and handed the parchment back to her. “I pray they arrive in time.”

“By all the gods, I pray too,” Azareth said. Emeric gave her a weak smile and then turned and left her. She fell to the floor and groaned, wanting time to freeze long enough for her rescue to arrive.