The Enchantress

Prologue

She was living on borrowed time. She had been for a while now—practically her whole life. Every moment was stolen from some foreign god who wouldn't save her when the time was right. Every damn moment.

She would rot in an unmarked grave in some crumbling graveyard for all eternity while they enjoy the luxury of life.

Although the 1000 years she was granted made her a near-immortal, she had done nothing in those prime years except run. Over and over again. She ran from her problems, her life, and all those that chased her.

Except now she was running from a true threat. She had followed their orders. To the last word. She had recited those words in front of them and left, content to do her own thing, but what she did not anticipate was the guards.

They chased her like the common criminal she was. She had run from that place of luxury after fulfilling the life debt she owed to them.

And now, the guards chased her, following her uneven steps and the erratic pumping of her heart. They had chased her through two kingdoms, not likely to ever stop pursuing her until she was dead.

When she reached the outskirts of a forgotten town, she glanced at the tanned people bustling around on the dirt roads and wandered to the center of town.

Sandstone houses lined the sand-paved streets and spread outward in a spiral to the ends of their little village. People dressed in silky fabrics of brown and beige milled around the roads, bartering for necessary items.

Few people nodded her way, most preferring to avert their eyes from the haggard-looking maiden in the streets. Her hair was tangled from weeks of trekking through the forest and her clothes were so encrusted in dirt, that the original pale green color of the fabric did not peek through.

She stumbled to the only inn in the town and laid three coppers on the wooden desk in the front. The receptionist gladly gave her a small, dingy room on the first floor, covered in spider webs and grime.

Without even bothering to remove her shoes, she slumped onto the bed and fell into a meager sleep. Weeks in the dense greenery of the forest had her too paranoid to rest, so she closed her eyes here and there but mostly remained in a groggy state of half-sleep.

She awoke to shouting outside of the inn through the open window, so she slumped to the opening and peered out. The sight outside instantly slapped her awake as hundreds of palace guards swarmed the streets.

She bounded out of her room, not even humoring the option of hiding. She knew these palace guards well and knew they would burn the entire village if she did not show up. When the flames were doused out, they would later search among the ashes for any sign of her. If they found a remnant of her time here, they would assume she was dead and carry on, but if she escaped, they would hunt her to the ends of the world.

There was no escaping the relentless palace guards. And no one in their damned mind would stop the Queen's ruthless guards from pursuing her.

So she bolted out of the inn and heard rather than saw people screaming in the streets. No doubt by the creative methods the guards use to find their prey.

She felt guilty for leading the guards to the innocent village, but she had no room for any feeling in her relentless run for freedom. It would damn her to no end for what state she left the town in, but she was beyond caring at this point.

In her miserable lifetime, she had schemed, lied, and manipulated people to do her bidding, once even forced people to worship her as a god for her rare gift. She had been an indecent person, and she wasn't at all surprised when the past came to haunt her and she found herself doing another tyrant's bidding.

They were her choices, and there were some she regretted, but she was long past the nine hundredth year of her survival, and she was ready to go.

But first, she would bring those bastards down with her.

A familiar pressure started building in her head as she bolted for the forest line at the edge of town, words threatened to burst from her mouth, but she repressed them until the time was right.

She ran past a guard without even knowing it, and a muffled yell followed her toward the bonfire in the clear field before the forest.

Her chest was heaving and her old joints and muscles protested the run, but she pushed herself to the limit to right a wrong.

Dozens of guards ran alongside her as she desperately ran for the protection of the forest, but she swerved to avoid being stabbed.

As a barrel-chested guard reached for her feet to trip her, she dove for the dirt-packed ground before the bonfire.

Struggling to get up, the guards surrounded her from all sides, forming a shield to prevent her from running.

"This ends now," a guard growled. "No more running." Indeed. She whipped out a hidden dagger from her boot and slashed for the nearest guard. She merely scratched his shin, but he jumped back, giving her enough space to crawl—

A hand seized her tunic roughly from the back as she was heaved to her feet. She found herself face to face with a man with yellow teeth.

She marked his features as she brought her knife, angled up, into his chest. He let out a roar of fury as he dropped her and collapsed onto the ground, writhing in pain. She let out a shuddering breath and that cost her the element of surprise.

Another guard slammed his arm into her chest as all breath whooshed out of her body. She thudded onto the ground as she dodged the dagger aimed at her exposed neck.

She bumped into the limp body of the guard she disabled and found him gaping into space—dead. She whimpered at that kill, but tried, once again, to get on her feet.

I'm not going down without a fight. Even until my last breath. No more running.

The guard stabbed for her head this time, but as she rolled away, another guard latched onto her body.

She twisted against his grip, but he smiled deviously at the growing bonfire. As he dragged her toward the deliciously hot flame, she let go of herself as magic coursed through her body.

The guard heaved her, shoving her near the fire as she closed her eyes and felt words bubbling from her mouth.

When her eyes opened once more, she spoke her last words—and prophecy—ever. Her face glowed with wonder as her eyes became illuminated with eternal white light.

As the guards shoved her into the fire, she spoke—words to undermine the lies she had spread throughout her life.

In a deep throaty voice, not completely mortal, the words tumbled out of her mouth, "The Enchantress . . ."