Enemy soldiers broke into the monastery. The priestesses and soldiers guarding the monastery defended themselves bravely for a long time, but they could not stop them from invading. The massive doors flew open and chaos reigned.
"Amaya, you must leave immediately," the high priestess who had been tasked with keeping her safe for years told her. "They must not find you."
"They occupied the entire monastery. There is no way out," Amaya replied.
"Through catacombs under the monastery," said the high priestess. "If we get into them, we'll be able to escape. They stretch beyond the city into the forest."
"We won't get there. There are too many soldiers standing in our way." Amaya objected.
"In that case, I hope you didn't forget how to use the sword, because we'll have to fight," the high priestess replied, handing Amaya a sword.
The monastery was constantly guarded by soldiers protecting the future queen of the Amorite kingdom. The king decided to marry Amaya, after all, she was blessed by the gods. The soldiers protected what was his.
Amaya was stillborn. The gods gave her life. Death herself gave her life. She was chosen by the gods. However, thanks to their gift of life, she was never a normal child. She saw the future. She saw the past. She saw many things that remained hidden to the human eye. She was the only one who could talk to the gods.
It was both a blessing and a curse.
Her life was never hers.
Her parents sold her to the king at an early age. She lived in a castle towering over the Golden City so that King Damon could be convinced of her abilities. He then sent her to a monastery near the Whispering Forest, where she was supposed to learn to control her power. She was receiving random visions of the future. She had visions of the past of the places she had been in, the people she had touched. Most of the time she didn't like it. She has seen tragedies; wars, fires, diseases. She was experiencing it all so vividly. As if she would survive every memory, still living in the wind, by herself. There they taught her to control it. It was her decision when the visions would come to her.
She was to remain in the convent until her eighteenth birthday, the marriageable age. The king was not going to wait even a year longer. She celebrated her eighteenth birthday two weeks ago. The wedding was supposed to take place in a month. Amaya was to become queen in a month, a role she had been preparing for all her life.
The soldiers bravely defended their future queen, but the soldiers of the Kingdom of Deira outnumbered them. A few soldiers did not have the slightest chance against the whole army. It was a lost battle. They could only give Amaya a chance to escape.
Amaya and the high priestess were trying to get to the entrance of the catacombs, to get out of the monastery and away from the foreign troops. The soldiers didn't even pay much attention to them, they let them pass freely. They didn't want to hurt the priestesses. It was against orders.
"Your Highness, run!" the guard commander shouted as he spotted Amaya sneaking through the shadows of the monastery.
Soldiers called her by her title, even though she didn't have one yet. It was only a matter of time, and soon she became queen.
The commander's exclamation drew attention to her. She instantly transformed from invisible to a shining star that drew all attention to her like gravity. Amaya silently cursed the commander for naming her. Now they knew who she was and were coming for her. It was no coincidence that they came to their door. The battle lines were too far south for it to be a coincidence.
"That's her! Catch her!" yelled, probably the commander of the enemy army.
If Amaya wanted to get out of there, she had to fight her way out.
The soldiers concentrated on catching her. She was clearly distinguishable from the other priestesses. Her dress was like the others, the thin pieces of fabric revealed more than they hid, the slits on both sides reached to her hips. Her dress, however, was embroidered with gold and jewels. She was decorated with lavish jewelry. On her arms, legs and back she had symbols telling about her origin.
The soldiers blocked the way for the enemy soldiers, but there were too many of them to stop them all from reaching her. At that moment, Amaya used her talent. She was good at swordsmanship. She was excellent in combat. And she was even better at killing. She drew her sword and parried one man's attack after another. The world is a cruel place and she learned long ago to have no mercy. She killed every enemy that stood in her way without hesitation like a well-trained soldier. However, one managed to get close enough for the blade of his sword to cut through the skin on her leg.
"Don't hurt her!" shouted their commander. "The commander wants her alive and unharmed."
Well... apparently he was just an ordinary general.
Amaya took advantage of the soldier's moment of distraction and slashed his throat with her sword. She watched him choke on his own blood. The soldier held the wound tightly with both hands, but he was dying anyway. The grunts as he gasped for breath pierced her ears. The man collapsed to the ground. He was dead. A glassy look was written in his eyes that only the dead wear. Amaya nonchalantly stepped over his body lying on the ground, his blood forming a pool that grew larger and larger, and continued to claw her way to freedom.
They walked through the dark corridors of the monastery bathed in the dim light of the torches fixed on the walls. Dead bodies of soldiers from both sides were lying on the stone floor. Blood flowed through the cracks like rivulets. Screams of pain and the sound of steel clashing against steel carried through the air. The high priestess was pale in the face. She didn't like what she witnessed. She hated it. Amaya was used to the massacre. She was used to blood, guts and screaming. She was cool about it.
Amaya and the high priestess made their way through the corridors to the secret exit. They turned into the passage leading to the catacombs. It was enough to walk down the stairs to the underground. However, they were guarded by enemy soldiers.
Two soldiers standing guard noticed them approaching. Amaya looked down, trying to be inconspicuous. She hid the sword behind her back.
"Miss, identify yourself," the soldiers said after exchanging uncertain glances for a while.
Amaya drew her sword on them before they had a chance to draw theirs. With the first slash, she managed to kill one of the soldiers, but her second attack was deflected. The corridor was too narrow to handle the sword. The soldier was bigger and stronger. He grabbed Amaya and pushed her against the wall. The high priestess took a torch from the wall and set the soldier on fire. Scream of pain and panic echoed through the corridor. He immediately let go of Amaya. He tore off his coat and started stomping on it to put it out.
Amaya took advantage of his inattention and kicked him down the stairs behind him, only for him to drag her down with him. They rolled all the way down. It took both of their breath away. However, Amaya was the first to stand up and drove the blade of her sword right through the soldier's heart. She took a deep breath. She turned her gaze towards the corridor leading to her freedom, and there stood another soldier, their commander according to his ornate uniform, sword in hand, ready for battle. He took a step, two closer to her. His attitude was proud. He walked arrogantly with his head held high. At first glance, she noticed something strange about him. She felt something from him that she hadn't felt from any other people before. It fascinated her. And it wasn't his handsome face and hair the color of raven feathers.
"Are you alright?" the high priestess shouted at her from the top of the stairs.
Amaya didn't answer or look at her. She kept her eyes on the soldier in front of her.
"You will be miss Amaya, won't you?" the soldier spoke to her. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. It's not every day I get to see a witch."
"I'm no witch," Amaya snapped.
"My apologies, miss," he grinned. "I forget that you are a witch blessed by the gods."
"Be glad I'm not a witch, soldier, or you'd be dead by now. Now get out of my way or I'll correct the mistake." Amaya told him irritated.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," replied the soldier.
Amaya didn't need to hear anything more. She gripped the hilt of her sword tightly and stepped forward to attack. She charged sharply, but the soldier briskly repelled her attack. The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed down the stone corridor in a deafening echo. Their feet moved in unison as if they were dancing.
Both were excellent fighters and neither wanted to lose.
They had been fighting together for quite some time. The sounds coming from the monastery above stopped. The fight ended there. Amaya was sure that the army of the King Damon had lost. She had no time left.
The soldiers were looking for their commander. However, they found only dead soldiers and the high priestess. From the sounds of the fight, they easily found what they were looking for. They went down the stairs to the catacombs and found the commander fighting Amaya. They were surprised that the girl who grew up in a monastery, among priestesses, was so good with a sword. At that moment, they didn't know if they should help their commander or if he could handle her himself.
"Kill him, Amaya!" the High Priestess that was held captive by the enemy yelled.
Amaya was distracted by her voice. The commander immediately noticed her momentary inattention and took advantage of it. He tore the sword from her hand and threw it to the ground. Pointed the tip of his sword to her neck. Amaya's eyes wandered from the commander to her sword on the floor.
"Don't even think about it," he told her as he noticed where her eyes were darting.
Amaya took a step closer to him. She allowed the blade of his sword to dig into her neck.
"Go on. Do it." Amaya urged him with a mischievous smile on her lips. "You won't do it," she laughed. "You want me alive. You won't kill me."
Amaya took another tiny step closer to him and that's when the commander put down his sword. She did not hesitate even for a moment and rushed to get hers. The commander was not so stupid and did not allow himself to be taken by surprise. He quickly stepped on her sword so she wouldn't get it. Amaya gave him a hostile look. He returned it to her with a mischievous grin.
"I wouldn't do that at your place," he warned her. "There is no one left to save you and you have nowhere to run."
"Do you realize who I am?" she said to him with venom on her tongue as she knelt before him. "I am the future queen of Amorite Kingdom. Blessed by the gods. For this, your kingdom will fall."
The commander leaned towards her. "King Damon will not destroy the kingdom his future queen is in," he told her.
Amaya kicked him and he fell to the ground. The soldiers who were watching them from behind gasped. They did not expect such savagery and defiance. Amaya grabbed the hilt of her sword, but the commander was faster. He took the dagger from behind the belt holding her dress and slashed her arm. The grip on her palm loosened and she immediately let go of the sword as quickly as she had caught it. The commander pointed her own dagger at her. Amaya jerked back.
"Give me back my dagger!" she demanded.
The commander carefully examined the dagger he had taken from her. It was silver. Jeweled handle. There was something written on the blade in a language he didn't understand. They were the same symbols that adorned her body. He found it strange how she backed away from him sharply when he held the dagger. He even thought he saw a hint of fear in her eyes.
"I think I'll keep it," he replied.
"Give it back to me, now!" Amaya screamed.
"Surrender first," the commander said in a calm voice.
"Give it back to me!" Amaya repeated.
"Surrender."
They pierced each other with murderous looks. They didn't even blink. Neither of them was going to look away. Amaya clenched her fists until her hands turned white from anger. She sighed angrily.
"As you wish," she said and surrendered to him.
The commander grabbed her arm and led her away.
"We have to treat your hand," he told her as he noticed the blood dripping on the ground.
Amaya held tightly her wrist, which he had sliced open. Deep-red blood seeped between her fingers. It ran down her hand, the drops falling on the stone floor. She wasn't used to bleeding.
"I wouldn't have needed treatment if you hadn't cut me with my own dagger," she retorted irritably.
"I wouldn't have to if you weren't trying to kill me," he replied.
"I still want that dagger back," Amaya said.
"That won't happen." He gave her a mischievous grin. "I'm sure you'd stab me in the back at the right moment."
"You can't watch your back forever." Amaya gave him a wicked smile.
They ended up in Amaya's private chambers. It was just the two of them, alone. They sat by the lit hearth and the commander bandaged the wound he had inflicted on her.
"Why don't you have a healer with you?" Amaya asked him.
"He didn't fit on board," replied the commander.
He gently bandaged her wound. Its whiteness was immediately stained by seeping fresh blood. He tightened it and Amaya squirmed slightly.
"Does it hurt?" the commander asked her.
"I've already had worse," Amaya replied.
The commander looked at her uncomprehendingly. "What could possibly hurt a convent girl from the tinsel of a Golden palace?"
"Only someone who has forgotten the gods can say that," Amaya said. "You wouldn't survive a day among the dark creatures."
"A witch fought against witches?" he grinned.
"I'm not a witch." she punched him in the shoulder for the insult.
She reached for her dagger behind his belt, but he quickly restrained her hand. She held the handle and he held her wrist. They looked at each other again.
"Nice try, but next time you have to be faster," he said.
Amaya refused to let go of her dagger. The commander pressed on her wound and that's when her grip loosened.
"So what should I call you, Your Majesty, future queen?" he asked her.
"Amaya," she replied. "Now please leave, soldier, I need to change."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Miss Amaya. I seriously suspect you will have more weapons here or try to escape."
"I have nowhere to run. I only ask for a little privacy," she objected. "Could you at least turn around?"
"So you can stab me in the back?"
"If I wanted to kill you, I would definitely want to look you in the eye."
The commander could no longer keep a straight face and smiled. "I'll wait outside. You have five minutes, Miss Amaya," he said and disappeared behind the door.