Alexandria: The Lost Princess

Chapter 2 - Part 2

A sharp pain slices into my ankle, coiling around like a snake and pulls my leg from under me. Flipping through the air, I crash into the ground. Pain erupts instantly through my skull, on impact. Covering my face, a wet sticky substance smears across my skin. A massive pounding pulses in my head, matching the rhythm of the approaching boots slamming into the ground with haste. Searing pain rips through my eyes, and I slam my eyes shut again, the ache too powerful to fight. Curling into the fetal position, hopelessly rocking in agony. They're coming. They've found me.

The ground ripples beside me, and dirt splatters against my arms. Fighting through the pain, I peek through my fingers. Blurry boots slide right beside me and dread shoots through me with a shiver. They have come to take me away. The stories that were drilled into my head at such a young age begin to surface into my reality, vengefully they bring my life to a halt. He had warned me, and I have ignorantly fluffed it off over the years.

A man is crouched down beside me, he snaps his attention behind me, a scowl prominent on his face. "You idiot! I said no weapons," the same loud voice barks out beside me.

Coated in tarnished armour blackened by flames, I knew where he came from. He had walked through fire, like a demon coming to claim my soul. Chainmail clings to his chest, secured by a leather belt. The metal plates that cover his shoulders give him a bulkier appearance. An unknown symbol defined alone the plates, two swords crossed over a set of mountains.

In the thick shade of the forest, his hair is practically black. Turning his head, his hair flings off his face, sending sweat droplets hurtling into the air. Sweat drips down his face, dragging a tear line across his face, removing the ash layer and revealing olive skin. He had been in the core of the fire. Had he started it?

He catches me staring as if noticing me for the first time. A kind smile shifts his expression, from the harsh scowl. "Are you alright?" his once-booming voice is now tender and sincere. A trick, my body recoils with a shiver under his intimidating appearance.

His thick charcoal covered glove reaches for my face. Flinching away, fear pushes through my lungs, and a strangled cry leaves my lips, "No!"

He stops. Analyzing my reaction his dark muddy eyes he is frozen in his processing. My arms tremble in fright, and we are paralyzed, eyes locked to the other. Cautiously, retracting his arm, a frown appears, filling his eyes with disapproval. Instantly, it's gone, replaced with a cold blank expression. An expression only a trained killer would have.

The tight discomfort grinds against my ankle, a man is fiddling with a whip coiled around my ankle. Screeching, I tug my leg back, and the strap bites into my flesh. Fingers claw at my leg, holding it still and the whip grinds against my flesh. With a tight grip, his fingers slide down my ankle, blood smearing across my pale skin. I pant heavily watching him pull his hand back in surprise, the sticky blood confuses him.

His red hair greyed with the shade of night is pulled back into a tight bun, exposing the freckles littered across his bookish features. Confusion and curiosity press his brows together as he stares at his hand. His large breastplate contains the same symbol embellished on the other soldier, proudly connecting him to his comrade. Five other soldiers stand huddled around with curiosity and disbelief, all of them wearing the same chest plate boldly defined with the symbol.

My skirt lifts and I screech, slamming down the fabric. Hesitant of irritating me more, the ginger-haired man returns to unbinding my ankle. We hold each other's stare, both uncertain of the other. The leather material leaves my ankle completely, and we remain motionless. Instant fear boils up inside me, and tug my leg into my chest, shrieking, "Get away from me!" The soldier smirks, recognizing my fear. Standing proudly, he towers over me, and I scoot away.