Chapter 1  

Under the blazing sun, I sat atop my horse, our figures silhouetted against the shimmering horizon, streaks of lights dancing though the patterns of the pines. The light bathes the landscape in a golden hue, casting long shadows that graced small patches of the forest floor with a temporary chill. My weathered face is obscured by the wisps of hair that fell from my braids, shielding my eyes from the relentless glare.

With each stride, my horse's muscles ripple beneath its sweat-soaked coat, a testament to the shared journey through the unforgiving terrain. Dust kicks up in our wake, swirling in the oppressive heat as we press forward.

My tunic clings to my skin, soaked through with sweat. The linen is almost translucent as I grabbed the reins tightly, guiding the horse with practiced precision. 

 It was barely autumn, but this was the hottest time of the year.  Despite being shrouded with trees, the small channels of light pushed through the leaves managing to find my exposed flesh. Urging my horse forward, I twisted down the side of a small river bank, my hips dipping to the side of the cool leather saddle from the uneven sand. The day was humid, but an occasional breeze would swirl up from the river’s current to cool the sweat that was slick on my neck.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see familiar sights sweep by my bowed head. The wooden gable roofs of the houses that dotted the forest, the skyline of the trees and the mountains, and small waves lapping onto the sandy bank. Despite the dark pines, shafts of sunlight brightened the moss, refracting off the mist that hovered in the air. I rode at a steady pace through the hollow wood, stopping only to avoid disturbances that blocked the path. This route was less traveled by, usually monitored by orcs lingering on the border. 

“Your Majesty,” a stern voice came from behind me, luring my focus. Without turning my head I hummed in acknowledgement, the soft noise purring in my throat.

“Stay alert, we are entering orc territory.” the voice continued.

I hummed again as I waved, signaling his dismissal. Despite my sign, his presence lingered, as if he wanted to say more. 

“Your Majesty, if I may speak freely,” His voice shook, worried at his informality.

“Very well.” I felt to indulge him after such a long journey together.

“It is just that, well-” his words slipped out slowly, as if scared to taint the air between us.

“I gave you your time, so speak.”

“You seem tense, Your Majesty. That is all.” His gaze shifted to the trees, scared of meeting mine.

Shayde was my personal keeper, never leaving my proximity by about ten feet. Even so, we rarely conversed, keeping our relationship strictly professional. I always thought him attractive though his status kept him from my reach. His protectiveness of me is taboo within the hushed rumors of the castle. 

“However tense, I am ready to be home. Continue the convoy.” He nodded, letting his horse slow to fall in precession with mine.

I let my thoughts wander, but I was snapped back to reality by a sudden scream. 

A rough shout echoed from a soldier towards the end of my convoy with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. His blood trickled around the edges of his face and dripped to his chin tangling in the short scruff. I slowed my steed to a stop and waited in the eerie silence. My hand moved to linger over the dagger that was hooked to my belt calming my nerves and relaxing my churning stomach.

“Stay back, Your Highness.” Shayde whispered, riding instinctively up closer to me and drawing his sword. Though I kept a straight face, my fingers trembled against the wooden, leather wrapped handle of my knife. I scanned the forest for movement but saw nothing, heard nothing. I felt Shayde’s intimidating glare on me as I refused to draw back. Then I saw it, a small twitch in the calm trees. 

I unsheathed my blade and had enough time to hear the small hit of metal against metal. An arrow fell to my horse's hooves, resting on the forest floor, broken in two. Had I moved a second slower, the arrow would have pierced my tunic, landing at the junction between my shoulder and clavicle.

Shayde was on the move instantly. There was no time to take in those who were jumping from trees, shouting in a language I vaguely recognized but did not understand. Chaos erupted in the blink of an eye, a battle had begun before there was time to think, and I was in the center of it. Through the midst of it all, I could still hear Shayde’s voice.

“Tamir!” He yelled to another guard, “Take his Highness and run, I will try and hold them back!” 

“Yes sir,” the guard answered back curtly then quickly mounted my horse. He slapped its neck, urging it forward. Though Tamir had an iron grip, I still struggled in an attempt to escape. I shouted refusals at both Tamir and Shayde but was rewarded with hard glares that were meant to scare me but only made me more determined.

All of a sudden, the quick whistle of an arrow zipped by my head and found its mark in the back of Tamir’s. He slumped forward, dead, and slipped off the horse. A second arrow was shot at me but missed taking down my mare and me with it.

Around me, I could hear the sounds of swords clashing together, grunts, cries of pain, and the smell of fresh blood. I struggled from under the horse, but its corpse pinned me down. My head felt dizzy and a throbbing pain came from the side of it. My eyes started to dim, however, they did not dim fast enough.

My eyes took in the sight of Shayde being impaled, the spear breaking through his back. 

---

Slowly rising from the depths of sleep, feeling returning to my fingers and toes, I grunted, rolled over and curled up more tightly, hugging my knees between my arms.

Something about the atmosphere surrounding me didn't seem right, so, cautiously opening one eye, I quickly scanned the room.

Awareness came in a flash. What had happened - how had I gotten here - where was here - why was I...? So many thoughts scrambled themselves to the surface of my mind. In the thick air, a thin film of perspiration began to form on my brow and upper lip. Fear was setting in and there were no comforting words or thoughts to stop it, no reassurance came to mind.

Instead, the thoughts of death darted through my head. A great shiver overtook me despite hot tears running down my cheeks. Though I acted distantly, I truly cared for my staff, and now without them, I felt so...alone. In this room, the gray walls, the lack of light, the locked door, all alone.

Slowly, more tears sprung from my eyes, and I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I was somewhere between choking on my tears and suffocating on them, I didn't know. My sobs echoed through the empty room, getting lost against the concrete walls.

Suddenly, the door burst open revealing a large orc. He lurked over seven feet high above me, casting a shadow that blocked all light, though there wasn’t much to begin with. Though most orcs were lean, this one had defined muscles and it was clear his strength and speed were akin to none. Large, twisted tusks jutted out from his bottom lip, and while his eyes were thin and small, they were black as night. His ears were long and pointed and were decorated with golden loops and chains. His nostrils were flared with anger and intimidation, as he looked down upon as if I were his prey. 

Fresh blood dripped from his jaw, which I could only assume was that of my guards. Long talons of carved bone hung from his waistband, some of which have already been turned into weapons. The orc snorted, a wave of heat accompanied by a stench of decaying flesh wafted through the dimly lit room.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” the orc scoffed at my title with sarcasm, my authority meaning nothing to him.

“How did-”

The orc spat on the ground in front of me which was his way of telling me I wasn’t allowed to speak. But, to answer my question, he held up my royal crest which used to adorn my tunic. Four more orcs, armed to the teeth, were situated all around, pointing their spears that were caked with dried blood towards my head.

“Why were you in our territory, Prince?” He said the last word as if it were a curse or an insult. To him, it probably was.

Instead of answering, I spat back, blood staining the floor near his feet. I was rewarded for my disrespect with a swift blow to the head. My eyes dimmed and I felt a faint stream of blood trickle down the nape of my neck. I looked back up at the orc, trying to keep a grin from breaking out. 

“You know the purpose, so you must understand why you were left out.” I sneered at his twisted expression, clearly angered at my false confidence. 

“Knock him out.”

“Yessir,” The guards responded.