PART 01 - THE PRINCE'S ADVERSARY

I sing in greek,

I pray in latin,

I ache in a language so old that

even the earth no longer remembers;

so dead,

that it has returned to dust.

— UNKNOWN.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

P R O L O G U E

The woman sighed as she glanced down at the baby laying helplessly on the ground, splattered in blood and tears and snot.

This was not how it was supposed to go.

The baby's soft whimpers echoed out into the cold, dark night, shielded only by the destructive flames and tortured screams behind them.

It's over, she realised, tears welling at her almond eyes. She focused her glare on the piles of fire and rubble ahead of her, the scarf used to cover her head blowing into the tortured breeze.

Suddenly a hand clasped around her ankle in the dark, the baby's cries gradually growing louder as the flames fizzled out. She directed her attention to the crimson coloured hand slowly enclosing her left ankle, squeezing tighter, tighter.

Her gaze followed the arm to the source as she stood, still as a piece on an abandoned chessboard.

Finally, her gaze focused on a matted body, burned so drastically that she couldn't make out anything but two lifeless blue eyes glaring back at her, pleading with her.

There was no skin. Only a burned out, ashen corpse.

Her remorseless eyes glared back at the corpse with indifference. Eyebrows furrowing slightly at the disgust flooding her insides. 'Please...' the corpse managed to choke out through the blood spilling out of what she would assume was its mouth.

'The... child...' it barked out as its grip tightened around her ankle, leaving traces of charred skin and blood behind her. 'save... her...' the grip around her ankle loosened until it wasn't there, the last of the light in the corpse's eyes was vanquished by the darkness.

The baby continued to belt out her chorus as the figure picked her up, determination in her dark eyes as they scanned over the child to see if she had any injuries.

None.

She took off the scarf, revealing a flowing river of onyx locks and crimson lips.

With the baby in one hand, she began to conjure the darkness in the other. The wind dried the salty tears that were streaming down her face as she began to grin, a portal of darkness appearing before her, the sinister smile on her malicious features widened. Her grip on the infant tightened, not once becoming loose.

Taking once last look at the place, she shook her head. 'This is no place for an infant.' She mumbled before stepping into the portal and disappearing into the night, leaving behind a mass of dead bodies and rubble.

The smell of death was poignant in the air that night in Shura, and it brought about the desolation of the land.

The Noble House of Neimos had been compromised.