CHAPTER THREE
REYNA
It was the second day, in the ship, the small window up above provided as a source of light, which we used to tell from might and day.
I sat quietly at the edge of the ship's hold, my back pressed against the damp wooden wall, my body weak, from not eating, knees drawn close to my chest, eyes feeling heavy, my body was weak, but so was my mind, I didn't know what awaited me in Avalon, and I was scared to find out. Everyone was quiet, silently counting down, the time, to when we arrive.
Then the door creaked open
Three demons entered carrying a barrel of water and a sack of bread.
They didn't distribute it.
They threw it.
Loaves flew through the air, and chaos erupted instantly. Slaves shoved, screamed, clawed at one another. Some grabbed more than they needed. Others fell beneath trampling feet. The demons laughed, wide smiles carved into their cruel faces as they continued tossing the bread like entertainment.
A loaf landed in my lap.
I froze—then quickly hid it at the front pouch of my gown, keeping my head down, my body still. I stayed in the corner while the others surged toward the center, where the fighting grew worse.
Another loaf landed near me.
No one noticed.
I grabbed it and hid it too.
When the bread was gone, the demons left.
Bowls were brought out for water, and once again chaos followed. Some drank deeply, others argued, voices rising as those without bread demanded more water, insisting it was only fair.
Eventually, the noise faded.
People settled where they could, tearing into moldy, stale bread. I took one loaf from my pouch pocket and ate slowly. Without water, it scraped my throat, but I forced myself to chew.
A soft moan sounded beside me.
I turned and saw a girl about my age. She looked weak—green forest eyes dulled by hunger, pale red lips, long black hair tangled around her shoulders. Her face was delicate, beautiful even now. She clutched a small bowl of water.
She had no bread.
I pulled the second loaf from behind me and held it out.
"Here," I whispered.
She looked up, startled, then smiled weakly as she took it. "Thank you." She said grateful.
As she ate, she tapped my arm gently.
"We can share the water," she said pushing her bowl towards me.
I nodded, drank quickly, and passed it back. "Thank you."
"Be careful," a man in his early thirties said quietly, watching us. "Where we're going, it's eat or get eaten. You survive by pushing others down so you can climb." He said as we both looked at each other.
Another man added, staring at us, "It never ends well for the innocent ones. Or the beautiful ones."
"During the picking," someone warned, "keep your heads low. Don't let the royals see you first."
"The royals," another spat. "All demons are the same—ruthless, cruel, evil."
The first man chuckled darkly.
"Would you rather be chosen by the royals… especially Prince Damiel?"
A chill swept through the hold.
I had heard the name before.
They said by the age of thirteen he went on his first war, and came out victorious, at the age of Fifteen, he was already a general. And at 18 he commanded the whole of Avalons army. That he had never lost a battle, every land he marched into fell and even among demons, his power was feared.
I wasn't one for gossip, but rumors found you—at rivers, in markets, while selling goods or washing clothes.
"It's better to die than be his slave," someone whispered.
"I heard his eyes were made from the ashes of hell," another said distantly, as though picturing his eyes.
"That explains it," a man replied. "I heard he controls minds with them. His brother, Prince Vaelor was his first victim."
"What happened?" someone asked curiously.
"Rumors has it that when they were younger his brother, Prince Vaelor, had once provoked Prince Damiel and He had made him almost jumped from the palace roof, by just staring at him, Prince Arkes was the one who had saved prince vaelor."
Gasps rippled through the hold.
"They say he's more than a demon," another muttered. "No demon has powers like his."
"Beware silver eyes and silver hair," someone whispered. It was a saying in Asheville—a warning passed like a curse.
"his beauty draws you in," another continued softly, "but run. It's how he lures his prey." finishing the popular warning in Asheville.
After a pause, someone asked, "What about the other princes?"
"Prince Arkes is the firstborn," a man said. "Dark black hair. Pleasure-driven. He chases pretty girls, but don't be fooled—he's calculating." he said like he wrote a book about them.
"Prince Vaelor is the secondborn," another added. "Cruel. Deceptive. He finds your weakness and tears into it."
Everyone listened, curiously.
"And Damiel?" a thin man said. "He doesn't live with his family. His father abandoned him—left him in a small, rotting shed. People said he was cursed. Helping him meant defying Queen Qianna."
A woman behind him spoke softly. "Only one maid ever dared to go against her. Some say she served Damiel's mother during her pregnancy."
My chest tightened. How could his family be that cruel?
"They say that shed became the greatest empire in all six realms," someone continued. "Even King Eldron's palace pales beside it."
"I heard his kingdom is made of pure gold."
"Well, he wages wars," another scoffed. "What did you expect?"
I lowered my gaze, fear curling tight in my stomach.
"I heard Prince Damiel rarely attends the Feast," someone said.
"I heard that too."
Relief spread through the hold, including me.
"What about the king and queen?" someone asked.
"King Eldron mostly attends when it's about treaties, gold, or resources. He's mated. His Queen chooses the maids. Humans don't work for them, they do attend, but it's mostly for the pleasure of seeing broken slaves"
The murmurs faded.
The girl from earlier slid closer to me.
"I'm Kayla," she said softly, with a smile, her face a bit radiant now that she'd eaten.
"I'm Reyna," I replied, with a small smile.
Above us, the ship creaked—and suddenly slowed.
"We're here", the man from earlier said, in a hushed whisper.
Chains rattled. Orders were shouted.
We had arrived,
In Avalon.