In the hands of guards, tied down and strapped with iron manacles was a discarded female.
Cuffed to almost suffocation, her neck, arms, legs, waist were all restricted; taking no risk for any chance of Aloysia's escape.
But replaying in Aloysia's mind was the same scene of 3 days ago... the day of her capture.
~
People froze, cried, screeched- each a victim of shock as they saw their princess for what she truly was- a lying assassin... The Shadow.
Zillah's body was forced to walk back, to stand aside the king in protection; her heart protesting as each step hurt and caused grunts to escape her lips.
Her tears snuck into the cuts of her face, healing them with their sorrow as she felt the gold burn her skin.
"No..." she uttered beneath her breath, forcing herself to look away as Aloysia was being dragged toward the king.
As she did, Aloysia stopped moving, halting the guards and glancing at the king, inches from him.
He stared back with no emotion in those cold- dark eyes.
Their breaths mingled as she whispered, "this is a war you won't win"...
Aloysia's shoulder nudged his own as soon as she finished speaking incredibly hard, sending a wave -almost instantly- over him.
The king stumbled onto the floor at the force, growling as the guards clutching her yanked her away.
Her face held no remorse, no guilt for what she had done- only a smirk signifying her victory, then side glancing Zillah and nodded gently.
Zillah didn't know what she had done, but knew what she had to do...
~
Blood was leaking, oozing from her swollen lips; head hanging back, exposing her neck marking a plentiful of gashes. Fresh.
To suggest she was injured would be a horrific understatement.
Her body was collapsing under the weight of the newly forming scars littering her frail body.
Her clothes doing nothing to hide them; ripped to shreds in places as well.
Yet somehow she had not passed out or even submitted.
The king was frustrated to no end, no method was working for her to submit, to allow for her innermost being to be separated; but most importantly, under his control.
3 days...
3 entire days the twisted guards had been amused by letting loose and beating the living, crying soul out of Aloysia, mocking every shudder her body reacted to; hissing to the sound of the whip cracking on her back, arms legs.
It would cease to end, a living nightmare.
But Aloysia would cease to talk; causing the rough violence to be inflicted, more and more.
The king needed answers as to why this was not working, and she was mute.
It only angered him further; more lashes, more pain, more torture.
"SPEAK!" The king declared, voice consumed by rage.
Aloysia merely adjusted her seating, hissing, swearing under her breath for every gash ripping open when moving, and stared at him; eyes hiding a blazing fire, and her teeth, drenched in blood as she smiled a ghastly smile directed straight at him.
A toothy grin.
He watched in disgust, revulsion crawling its way through his throat for this creature refusing to talk in front of him.
"I don't know why I ever allowed you to see the light of day, you should of been locked up until I had you under my control."
Eyes pierced his darkened soul, yet he continued, grinning in the process.
Even with it lashing out, she would never let him control it control her.
"But I suppose, it was so that you could train in secret, acquire skills for me to one day harness when I know you are at a level powerful enough to shred a kingdom to ashes"
She could throttle him and the stupid manacles bearing into her raw wrists were the only thing, mind the pain, that were physically holding her back.
His eyes awoke at the ideas panning across his eyes, visions of the power; wealth, titles he would gain.
They darted to Aloysia.
The madness behind those eyes saw many men insane, and always lead to inhumane actions. It didn't feel human.
If he could just find a way to control it.
Without uttering another word, and producing a huff incredibly loud, he strutted away, deciding it was no use, and that another solution would be wiser than trying to get information out of an ignorant sea urchin.
——————————
"Finally" Aloysia relished, as she lost line of sight of the guards, and the king.
Her body sore to the bone, muscles screaming at her to remain still and not move an inch; Aloysia did no such thing.
She knew how she could be controlled, new what the king was after that lied buried deep within her; and if it were not for the metallic taste of blood dancing upon her tongue, she wouldn't have allowed fear to slip through at the thought of it.
But it did. Oozing out, ever slowly, savouring any pain it relished in, compared to the mundane exterior she upheld.
Oozing like her trickling blood; painting, staining her arms; legs, torso, face, anything that was covered by skin, and could bleed.
Aloysia knew the king would wait until it had fully awoken.
She just didn't know when that would be.
It was close.
She could feel it hammering to her heartbeat.
The death stone...
Half of the Eternal stone and direct opposite of the creation stone was what burned in her crimson irises, why they alighted and made her so powerful that even nature bowed its head in respect.
The death stone was thrilling in its wild nature that was indescribable to the common folk, but the beholder knows, the only person who is strong enough to carry the stone deep within their body understands exactly what that stone wants and is capable off.
An enigma that was fused with Aloysia's body as a child, its purpose... to murder her.
Placed there by whom is unknown.
But the intention at which they buried it in her did not replicate through as they had intended.
Instead, her body had visibly shook; violently jittering at the stone invading her bloodstream.
Almost like an infection.
Her body passed out from utter exhaustion, -only being 9- and re-awoke minutes later with eyes shining brighter than the brightest blood moon, and a mark, an ever present reminder of that pain she endured as a child lingered just below her collarbone.
In its center, a slash of a symbol had engraved.
Which is why her body suit covered everything.
Out bursts of the stone reacting as a child were common; slight pain, the sensation of pure power, burning, running through her blood.
And it left subtle scars....
Very fine scars that would only be spotted if you knew it was there.
That was when it was dormant.
Now it was beginning to surface, after so many years, and it could control its host, feed off them.
It lived on death.
And she had become the epitome of death...