Neytiri

I'm terrified.

No one has said one word to me. The guards brought me to the throne room and had the servants bring out wine and food for Loris and his friends. Yet, I was given nothing.

The guard that helped me in brought me to the edge of the intimidating throne to kneel and placed a blindfold around my eyes. Now, all I can do is hear Loris and his friends' celebration. But I can't stop shaking in fear. Rumors about the blood king have not been kind. And, if the rumors are any kind of true, I won't be dead any time soon. He'll torture me, and then kill me. Just because of what I am.

The blindfold around my eyes is soaked from the silent tears I've been crying. I don't know how long they will keep me like this, waiting for my worst fears; for Gran's worst fear. Finally, after what feels like forever, I hear it. The door to the far side of the throne room eases open, and the room falls silent.

I can basically hear the shuddering of my heart in my ears as solid footsteps glide across the room. No one speaks. My heart rate rises when I realize the footsteps are coming in my direction. They stop directly in front of me, and I release a shuddering breath, waiting for the pain to come.

I gasp, when I feel a hand on my face. I can't stop the shuddering breaths that escape me. I immediately bite the inside of my cheek, flinching away from the contact.

"Her face. Did you come into some kind of trouble?" The voice above me is smooth. Demanding. Terrifying. It echoes off the walls and is followed by complete silence. The hands travel down my face, over the welts on my arms, and the bruises along my body.

"I asked you a question." I sense the irritation in his voice. I can also sense an accent as well.

"No, your majesty..." I hear Loris' unsure voice. The rustle of fabric sounds and when the king speaks again, he sounds further away.

"Then, what happened to her?" he asks.

Silence.

"My king, she plagued our village for too long with her curse, and we finally took things into our own hands, and brought her to you as an offering, for peace, in hopes that you would spare our clan in your quest to expand your k-"

The voice is cut off as a deep chuckle echoes throughout the throne room. It grows until it's a loud and hearty laugh. The laughter finally dies down, and I hear footsteps. Except they're moving away from me. And towards Loris.

"And where are you from, exactly?" the king asks.

There's a pause.

"The glinden forests, my king," someone finally says.

"Hm." The king's response is disinterested. I feel a stinging pain on my thighs and realize that I am scraping my nails against my legs from the amount of nerves coursing through me.

"Which one of you is the leader?" he asks.

"I am, my king," Loris speaks up.

There's a pause.

"Very well." That's the last human sound that I hear before the screams begin. They're blood curdling. Suffering. Begging for mercy. I can hear the snap of bones, the tearing of flesh, the splatter of blood, until there is the smallest whimper left.

"Take this back to your home. Tell them, I am coming for them. Tell them, they have incurred the wrath of the blood king. Tell them, their days are numbered, and their deaths will not be merciful. I will find each and every one of you and make you suffer." I hear a whimper, followed by the sounds of running footsteps, and then he screams.

Silence.

"Take my new guest, have her cleaned, and have Krea look at her," the king says.

"Yes, your majesty."

I feel numb. The servants brought me to a round metal tub, with steaming water and have been scrubbing me raw. They've poured all kinds of soaps and oils on my skin and in my hair. I don't miss the curious glances they throw my way. They probably never thought they would see an Ikniri in their lifetime.

After they pour more water on me, washing all the soap from my body, they leave me alone in the room with nothing on. I'm completely naked when a woman walks in. She's an older woman, but not in her elder years yet. Her hair is pitch black and bone straight as it falls down her back. And, her eyes are a piercing green. She glances at me, and her gaze slightly widens.

"He said you were an Ikniri, but I couldn't believe it," she says. She walks towards me, placing her hands on me. I immediately flinch away, putting my hands up defensively and she seems shocked by the movement. Then, a soft smile finds its way on to her face.

"My dear child, I won't hurt you. I'm here to heal you," she says. I don't trust her though. She holds her hand out for me, asking permission with her eyes. I look at her palm, and back to her not moving an inch earning a laugh from her.

"That's fine. I understand your concern. Judging from your wounds, you must have been through a lot. My name is Krea. I'm the castle's healer. I've been in the king's family for generations. My services now extend to you," she says.

I ignore her words looking around the room for a weapon. The only person I would trust in this world is gone for believing in her own village. I won't make that same mistake.

"Please, let me look at you. It is the king's wish, and I would hate to tell him you refused his wishes. You've seen what he's capable of," she says.

I look away in irritation. As much as I hate to admit it, she's right. So, I silently nod my head, keeping my gaze down. Krea gently places her hands over my body, hovering over my skin. I silently study her as she studies me, and I can see the fascination in her gaze.

"Such a beautiful color,"

She reaches my face, placing her hand on my cheek next to my swollen eye.

"They are cruel men to do such things to a defenseless child," she says. I can feel the warmth extending from her palm, and onto my face.

"You are a lovely female with flawless skin, and a beautiful complexion," she smiles. She places her fingers in my hair, running them through and letting the strands fall.

"Good health..." She places her palm against my chest bone, pressing softly. When I look up her eyes are closed as if she's trying to sense something. No sooner does the thought cross my mind, she opens her eyes.

"Strong spirit. But filled with so much hurt." She places her palm on my face, caressing my cheek gently.

"I think the king will be very pleased with you," she says. She turns away from me.

"I shall let the girls finish their work," she calls over her shoulder as she exits.

After I'm washed and dressed, they pull my hair into one braid to hold it away from my face before leading me through the magnificent castle.

The dress they put me in is beautiful unlike anything I have ever seen before, along with the soft material. There was no need for such fabric in the village I grew up in. Even the colors are abnormally vibrant. The material clings to my skin, so softly I find myself pulling at the material just to test it.

The hall finally opens up to an archway, leading to a large, thick door made of a foreign material that I am unfamiliar with. The servants spread out on either side of me, bowing their heads as they wait for something. After a few minutes, the door opens and out comes a man with weapons strapped to his back.

His hair is pitch black, falling messily around his face. His eyes are the strangest hue of amber as they study me with familiarity. He sucks in a deep breath, stepping aside as he motions for me to enter the room.

But I don't move, my gaze locked to his in spite.

"Please, don't push him," he says softly.

My eyes widen, and I finally will my feet to move. I step into the room, and the doors close behind me before I can take in my surroundings, plunging me into darkness.

It's quiet. I can't hear the sound of anyone else in the room. I can hear my shaky breaths as fear coils its way up my throat, trying to release itself as a scream from my lips, but I won't let that happen. So I place my clenched fist against my chest, trying to calm myself down.

I think back to any happy memories I may have had, and immediately I imagine Gran's face. Her smile, her smell, her laugh. I feel a cool breeze against my cheeks and realize that I'm crying. A choked sob releases my lips. I haven't had the time to mourn Gran. Starvation, the walk here, the beatings, and the constant fear were always bombarding me. But now that I'm alone in the dark and everything has stopped, I finally cry. My legs refuse to hold my weight as I collapse to the cool floor beneath me, clutching my chest.

My sobs can't be contained any longer, and my wails echo throughout the room. I place my forehead against the floor, bending over my knees, clenching my teeth. She's gone. Forever. She's gone. And I can't take it. I don't know how long I sit here sobbing, but I hear footsteps. I tense, trying to silence my sobs, but can't. The pain is too much.

I sit up, looking around but my eyes won't adjust in the dark fast enough. I can't see anything. It's pitch black all around me, but I can still hear the footsteps coming towards me, until they silence. My shaky breaths are coming out as I look around, and I feel a warm hand against my cheek.

"Why are you crying?"