Conclave Of Tyrants: The Smoke That Thunders

Princess of Death

In a despondent jungle, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, a group of people old and young were held in ropes, tied up. Across their faces were expressions of fear, sadness and most prominently loss of hope. There was no one surrounding them, yet they knew that there was no escape from their situation. Death was coming and it was in the form of a child.

After a while a procession of warriors armed in golden attire came following a fourteen year old youth. This youth gave a strong impression; the youth had spiky hair, brown skin without any flaws and sharp eyes that seemed to have been tempered by a thousand battles. This disparity between youth and experience created an uncomfortable sensation upon all who looked at this young child.

At first sight you would think this was a young man growing into manhood, but in actuality this was the diamond of the Gutu Empire, the legendary princess of the underworld. Her name was Princess Kufara Gumbo.

Her name Kufara meant happiness, yet to all who were involved in her life all she gave was dread. Oddly enough no one called her Kufara, everyone called her Kufa which in actuality meant death.

As Princess Kufa approached the group of tied up victims, the feeling of dread in their hearts made their very being palpitate with anticipation of what was to come. The fear in the air was so intense one could almost believe it was tangible.

When the procession arrived they stopped directly in front of the middle aged man, his face reduced to a mere mass of nothingness. The fear was evident on the faces of all who stood there but there was no shame in her eyes as she pulled out her sword.

Her voice was liquid with no clear indication of age, she commanded despair with every utter.

"You!" she screamed, pausing for a second as if to induce fear in his eyes, "Where is he?"

The man simply stared and with one swift movement she cut of his throat, moving on to the next man in line without so much as a glance or any sign of sympathy.

"You! Where is he?" she uttered pointing to the next man in line and a bead of sweat could be seen flowing from his head before it was swiftly chopped off, falling with the next and the next.

At some point in her brutal interrogation she arrived upon a young man who reeked of fear.

Kufa was like a maddened hound on the hunt, once she caught a whiff of that irresistible smell she couldn't let go. Oddly enough she didn't say anything to him and skipped him arriving in front of a hardened old man. The old man was the complete opposite of the young man before him; his facial expression as flat as a slab of stone.

Without even talking to the old man her hand as quick as lightening, reached into the old man's chest and pulled out a beating heart. Blood sprayed like a fountain, dying the surroundings red, yet oddly enough not a single drop of blood touched her, as if the blood itself was sentient and feared her.

As she pulled out the heart the beats got slower and slower. The old man's corpse fell to the ground with a loud thump.

When the heart reached what seemed to be its last beat, the princess squeezed the heart and it lit aflame. The fire itself was eery instead of being hot it was frighteningly cold. The flame itself was yellow with a black outline that had a purple hue. As soon as the flame lit up, the heart started beating. Louder and faster than before, at the same time what should have been the corpse of the old man started to spasm and bellow in pain as if he was actually alive.

The Princess took the beating heart that was on fire and brought it in front of the young man who she had skipped. She stopped the heart right before his face. All of the facial hairs on the young man's face started to freeze and he slowly started losing feeling his skin becoming numb.