Fiery Vengeance

Newly lit torches, the rooms sole light source thanks to the absence of windows, lined four cobblestones walls. The soft orange glow gave the small chamber a rather dungeon like appearance, enhancing the shadows cast off from four Ionic columns which, were perfectly aligned into a square formation in the rooms center, supporting a vaulted roof.

All was silent until the grand wooden doors to the chamber opened with a creak, revealing a tall, bulky man and a much shorter, and slender figured, young woman. They were soon accompanied by four burly men in haunting metal masks.

The man, standing a good head and a half taller than his woman captive, ushered the guards out to stand guard outside with the wave of a hand . Large hulk-like men, in fearsome black uniforms and matching metal masks. A pair of dagger sheaths hung from brown leather belts on either side of there bodies. The soft glow of the torches cast silver reflections off there chest and shin armor illuminating there black masks, giving them the frightful appearances of dungeons keepers rather than professionally trained Kurmal Eka soldiers.
His large nightmare black eyes glanced down to the woman, checking to see if she’d try and flee, she did not look at him or even make an attempt to. Her eyes were fixed on a glowing sphere mounted on a lone cylindrical table in the center of the room.

Smirking deviously to himself.

“I believe you now know the reason why I’ve brought you here”

Acting as if she hadn’t heard, the woman stood expressionless as the Lords dark eyes wandered lustfully over her.

Despite the unreadable forlorn glaze over her once vibrant blue-gray eyes and the red patches of exhaustion under them, she was a pleasant sight to look upon.

Long, light brown locks, draped gracefully across broad shoulders and hung down to brush her lower back in a slight wave, framing her freckled pale face. The soft glow of the torches seemed to illuminate her features, casting shadows under her eyes and upon her cheeks, reflecting just the slightest hint of auburn in her hair.

A loose white tunic, that over the course of time had been dimmed by dirt and dust, clung to match her every curve complimenting her exquisite form, while just managing to maintain some level of modesty. The fabric itself was coarse like cheap un-fine cotton and despite resting at her ankles, there was a long slit going up her left thigh exposing a good portion of her long leg. With two folds, held up by thin leather straps that crossed in an “X” down her exposed back, not much of her front was covered. A large “V” formed down her stomach, meeting just above her belly button by the same two folds that covered her breasts. Two leather straps held the folds in place closing the tunic.

She bit back the urge to glare at him or speak as she felt his eyes roam over her, for any act of defiance would serve little purpose. So as if to fight back in her own small way, the young woman crossed her arms over her breasts, her shoulder blades slightly raised as if shrugging, in order to cut off his view of her exposed flesh.

Taking note to her reaction, the Lord smirked, knowing all to well he had caused her discomfort, before returning his attention to the orb. For a moment, all was quiet as his eagle-eyed gaze swept over the room before the sound of metal clicking on stone tile was heard. The sudden break of silence echoed clear throughout the small chamber as he made his way, in long strides, to the table in the center of the room. Blood red robes flowed behind him with each step, as the golden symbol of a crescent moon, clashing with the sea of blood, glistened in the soft orange light.

The table itself wasn’t that big, standing at about 4 hands in height and 2 in width, making it sit just below the Lords waist as he stood leering over it.

The young woman followed at a much slower pace never taking her eyes off of him, she couldn’t help but notice the resemblance between the golden crescent moon on his robes and the tiled one in which the table rested upon. After a few moments of banishing the thought from her mind, her eyes ran over the sword at his waist. She often imagined on numerous occasions of taking the golden hilt in her hand, feeling the cool hard metal against her palm, and running the monster clear through with his own weapon. No matter how far fetched the idea was, and despite her normally docile nature, if such a glorious opportunity would appear to her advantage, she’d strike with the ferocity of a raging tiger and the swiftness of a racing cheetah. For as long as the young woman could recall, to have the Lords blood split by her hand, no matter the consequences such an assassination would bring, the world would receive justice, a chance to rewrite so many wrongs.

She regarded him with caution, eyeing every movement carefully as he lifted the strange object into his hand and held it out for her to see.

“Do you know what this is Aiyana?”

Shifting her gaze to the orb, Aiyana found herself perplexed, yet transfixed by its unique and strikingly fiery appearance. Vibrant colors swirled within its circular form in a mass of fire and lava, a soft orange halo mist encircled its glossy surface. Despite being the size of a large bowling ball, the orb itself appeared average in the Lords big hand.

After a few moments of silent awe she managed to pry her gaze from the orb to meet the Lords awaiting eyes.

“No. I do not, Should I?”

The slightest hint of amusement flashed in his soulless eyes, a smug smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“The beloved Wife of my enemy and you have not a clue, how amusing”

“I find nothing of the sort, now are you just going to stand there grinning like the mad man that you are or’ll you explain your little magical contraption.

Unless your more satisfied playing these mindless riddle games of yours”

“It appears my nephews wife is a bit impatient”

“Impatience and tolerance are two different things entirely, Lord Singh”

“Since when did you get so formative, my little Forseer?”

From the very moment Aiyana had been dragged before him, Singh had insisted on naming her his. Just the mere thought of being his made her stomach twist with nausea.

As a Forseer it was her job to foretell events to come with precise accuracy, often being given the alas nickname of a physic. However slightly different in the prospect that physics predict, Forseers see the visions in there heads and make no mistakes. Her extraordinary magical gift was part of the reason she was here, Singh needed someone to warn him of future conflicts and tell him ahead of time who will win which battle in order to, “Mold the future” to his liking.

Aiyana glared at him.

“I am not yours and never will be”

“We’ll see, In time that may change”

“I love my husband and there’s nothing you or anyone one else in this forsaken nation can do to change that. Now that you’ve beat around the bush, go on with it and get to the point, your incompetence is boring me”

“You’d better watch that smart mouth of your girl!”

Aiyana remained impassive looking him in the eye indifferently as if she'd done nothing. However deep inside she recoiled and willed herself to run or at least take a step back in sheer fright at the dangerous look in his eye.

In silent relief she watched after a few moments, as Singh slowly melted back into his previous mood of mocking triumph, twisting the orb around with his fingers in a teasing manor. The gold rings on his hand, glistening in the low light, standing out against his dark ocher skin.

“It’s the Brere”

The Brere. That name, she knew that name. Aiyana felt her blood run cold abruptly as realization struck her hard, like a raging lightning bolt, while memories came flooding back to her faster than she could think. The Book of Lost Arts! How could she have forgotten? The Wizard Bala showed it to her and her husband Ying while they were visiting his library in Casmiron.
If she could remember correctly the Brere was said to have possessed unlimited power giving ultimate access to any level of magic to it wielder. Silent in it kills, no one would know what hit them until they were a corporal being looking down at there own dead corpse. Groping her thoughts she also recalled it had the ability to pull together mass amounts of energy strong enough to bring back the dead to do its masters bidding. An army of the undead, she trembled at the thought.

Now it all made sense, but was it really possible? Aiyana had always thought the Brere was nothing but a myth, an old fable, but yet here it was. Never had anything appeared so gruesomely beautiful to her until now.

Looking at Singh she could tell he knew she was afraid, the momentary tremor of fear and shock must've showed on her face.

“Well?”

Swallowing down the lump of dread in her throat, but not fully able to bring herself to banish the fear in her voice as she spoke, the words coming out quieter than she had hoped.

“I thought it was a legend?”

“A legend as real as the beginning of time my dearest. And far more powerful than even the greatest of wizards”

“Power this dangerous was not created for the purpose of one man. It shouldn’t even exist”

Singh watched her for a moment before setting the Brere back on the table. Its orange glow mixed with the torchlight casting an eerie shadow over the room.

“Say whatever that little mouth of yours wishes it will do you no good here”

“Why are you showing me this you honestly believe I won’t mention it to anyone?”

In one swift motion, faster than she could blink, Singh seized Aiyana’s jaw, squeezing, he forced her head up, a glint of dangerous amusement danced in his eyes.

A shiver ran down her spine.

“Who’s going to find out? your mine now”

Despite being fully conscious of the crushing pain from Singhs iron grip on her jaw, the Forseer fought to steady her racing heart as she willed herself to speak, despite the crushing pain.

“You may own my body but you don’t own me, you never will”

True to her words Aiyana spoke the truth for, she knew, he knew it to, but whatever hopes of a minor victory she'd held vanished at the evil smirk on his face.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss that thought little lady”

“Why? do you honestly believe you can get into my mind?”

Leaning forward, his breath hot against her ear, Singh whispered intimately, in a tone that sent a serge of hot dread through her.

“O I intend to do much. . . . Much more”

Reeling back slowly, absorbing the moment, the Lord of Indja released her jaw, and stared into the foreseers now fearful eyes before turning on his heels and heading for the door, leaving a her shaken in his wake.

Word count: 2000