They said that the world would never burn again, yet hers was always set aflame.
She looked around in utter despair, searching for what she hoped to see again, only to be met with purple flames devouring the whole horizon.
She wept tears of hopelessness in solitude, trying to wipe them off with hands coated in innocent blood. Her guilty face was made even more sinful.
Soon enough, the eternal flame swallowed her as well...
***
The young girl's face contorted at the sudden assault of the mercilessly chilling water. She opened her eyes, looking around in confusion, but that was just for a fleeting moment as she was woken up from her nightmare. Her eyes quickly regained their sharp edge as she remembered the familiar place that she was in.
She was in a prison cell.
Everything assaulted her senses. The cool breeze seeping through the stone walls, the quiet but also unnervingly loud sound of the dripping water, the sickening scent of mold and decaying flesh, and, undeniably, the thick iron collar around her neck that made it impossible for her to turn around without looking like a pig.
And lastly, standing before her as if to prove that the last few weeks of her imprisonment weren't just a not-so-pleasant dream, was the guard.
He was a tall, muscular man with a broad frame clad in leather armor with a longsword attached to his back. His sharp gaze was accentuated by his other features, namely his short black hair and piercing red eyes.
One would've mistaken him for a human if not for his slit pupils that were similar to those of a reptile.
He was a fairly young man, yet the deep grimace that had taken over his face might make a person who had never seen him before think that he was already middle-aged.
But the young girl knew better, because she was the reason why he was as angry as he could be.
Throwing the bucket aside, he looked at her with barely contained hatred as he spoke with venom:
"Wake up, you filthy witch. The commander demands your presence."
Without waiting for her response, he reached to unchain her. With a simple touch from his hand that released unnatural heat, the shackles binding her to the wall freed her bruised wrists. But the iron collar on her neck remained as always.
He grabbed her arm roughly as he began walking her outside the cell. His fast pace never bearing a thought for her tired body, making her stumble.
As they passed the metal door, they entered a narrow corridor, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. It was illuminated by torches that had their yellow light reflect upon the stone walls.
As her bare feet sent jolts of pain in protest of stepping on the stone floor, the young girl looked at the man and spoke. Her voice was hoarse and soft, but lacking any sign of fear despite her situation:
"...Where are you taking me?"
The man turned sharply to her, as if offended that he was made to hear her voice.
He took a moment to see her face; the torchlight made it easier to make out her state.
She looked as young as a teenager. But she was quite tall for her age, reaching around the height of the average woman already.
She had shoulder-length jet-black hair, dark, long eyelashes, and sharp eyebrows. Her eyes were a mesmerizing ghostly-blue color that seemed deep enough to draw one's soul inside that chilling abyss.
She had multiple beauty marks adorning her face like the myriad stars shining in the night sky. It was a celestial map that drew the viewer's gaze on an adventure to explore her charming features amid her pale skin.
And lastly, two long ears that added an eccentric allure to her.
She was perfection made reality.
...But that would've been the case only if not for her current state.
Her tattered tunic failed miserably to hide her frail and skinny body, bruises, and newly mended wounds covering her skin. Her face obviously didn't fare any better as it was swelling all over, as if used as a punching bag.
And it was.
The man's rage diminished a little as he took in her pitiful state, clearly satisfied with her inflicted suffering.
Yet, the man didn't bask in the scene as much as he wanted as he was finally able to take a good look at her eyes.
Her terrible eyes.
There wasn't anything special or mystical to them other than their unnatural color, but what caused the man's heart to skip a beat was something else entirely.
It was instinctive.
Her eyes were absolutely calm, something you wouldn't expect from someone who is in most likely the worst scenario possible.
There was no place for the familiar fear, despair, nervousness, and the other countless expressions that he came across from seeing countless other slaves.
There was just... nothing...
No, that wasn't right.
Was his gut feeling wrong... or was she looking at him the same way that horrible beasts used to look at him when he was a mere mortal?
Did she... did she think of him as prey?
With a newfound rage, the man pinned her to the stone wall as he tried to regain some of his composure.
His hand choked her neck as he spoke through gritted teeth:
"Don't you dare speak, you monster!"
His fingernails dug into her skin, nearly drawing blood. Her expression remained the same as ever, though she was choking on her breath and visibly uncomfortable.
Remembering his assigned task, he released his grip on her neck, making her fall on the floor while coughing.
"Keep your mouth shut and follow."
He calmed himself a little as he grabbed her again and continued dragging her. They passed multiple empty cells and other guards as they quickly made way for them.
He spoke again, his voice deep and measured:
"As I said, the commander has ordered you to be brought to him. You should be honored to have the privilege of meeting him, although you'll be seeing him as a dirty slave. I don't know the specifics, but you should keep your attitude to yourself lest you get your head cut off." Hopefully.
She only gave him a simple nod as she processed his words, which he felt was unfortunate, as he couldn't 'discipline' her for anything. Don't go overboard, Eric... She has to be somewhat presentable as she's going to meet the commander, broken bonesand new injuries won't do.
They passed through the final door as they finally stepped outside, meeting snow and cold air.
She didn't even flinch once at the harsh wind, which was weird for someone wearing pretty much rags while appearing frail and weak. Not to mention being splashed with cold water.
Eric looked around the camp as they made their way to the commander's place; other slaves were being dragged from their cages, although on different paths than theirs. They consisted of human males and females, the youngest being adults, while the older ones were reaching their last years. It appeared that she was the only one with the privilege of a prison cell in this camp, though.
Snow never ceased dropping as it coated the tall dark trees and the slope of the tall mountain that they were on, threatening to bury them under the cold. But that was fine, for him at least. It would take more than a mere cold to take him down.
They passed multiple tents and cages, other soldiers and slaves making a plethora of noises consisting of shouts, cries, and laughter.
Not even a five-minute walk from her former place, they finally reached their destination. A single stone building with two floors, something a bit luxurious compared to the rest of the camp. They approached two armed men standing in front of the entrance.
Noticing their arrival, the two men quickly made way for them to enter, and they did a military salute.
"Sergeant Flameclaw!"
Eric nodded at them as he said:
"Go help the other men with handling the slaves, I'm meeting with the commander."
The two men nodded instantly and took their leave, not questioning anything. But one of them didn't mind hiding his hateful expression as he saw the girl behind him.
"Filthy witch..."
Eric entered the building without much delay. He was met with the familiar, well-organized meeting room that had almost no fancy decorations, yet remained pleasing to the eye. He walked up the wooden stairs leading to the other floor.
He looked back at the girl as he reminded her:
"Don't try to do anything funny."
Her response was simply a silent look from her.
He snorted at her with a grimace as they reached a door on the upper floor after walking through the corridor. Although he knew that the commander was already aware of his presence, he still knocked at the door respectfully.
A voice spoke to him from inside the room. Calm, poised, and authoritative.
"Enter."