The Princess of Wrath

Echoes from the Past - The Gray Death, Part I: Lucy

Year 3566 after the Vanishing of the Shadow Army.

4th Day of the 5th Month – 3 months after Reykana's declaration of secession.

The Hall of the Throne, which housed the millennial history of the great rulers of the Ithrylian Empire, was almost empty. The light of Belrus penetrated through the windows decorated with the images of the ancient emperors and empresses, illuminating the place beautifully and sharing the warmth to counter the cold of the mountain. The black doors were wide open, allowing free access to anyone, and the discreet sound of footsteps continually echoed throughout the place.

Those were the footsteps of a fourteen-year-old girl in a tight black uniform, patrolling with her arms behind her back the perimeter of the smooth stone platform that housed the Throne of Conquerors at the top of it. Her black hair was tied into a small ponytail, and her face could not be seen because it was covered by a removable white mask.

Said mask did not possess any specific details in its simplicity, except for a beautifully painted snake along its right side. The ceramic lips were sealed, and two black eyes charged with unnatural coldness for a girl her age scanned the surroundings with precise detail.

Two eyes that reflected the kind of spirit and mentality that were required to be considered fit for the sacred and dark order of assassins that made up the secret military force of the Empress... The Order of Wraiths.

Despite being a girl who was taking her first steps in the world of adult women, she had to stop feeling contact with daylight and become one with the shadows; shed all emotion and follow the silent path that her Master had proposed to her to walk alongside him two years ago.

She did not express it, but she felt a slight pain burning the muscles of her legs, arms and abdomen, after three full days and without stopping training to continue strengthen her body. Every step she took was internal torture, and she was almost certain that the tendons in her feet were about to break and the calves to tear.

But her mind was already pain-proof, even before she agreed to become a Wraith apprentice, so she could simply ignore that excruciating feeling and wait for her body to stop responding to her.

If that happened, her Master was going to get angry with her and punish her... But that did not do anything to her on her wide emotional spectrum either; neither fear or joy or anything.

There was only one thing, a person, capable of testing her mental stability, and it made her feel like she was returning to her years when she had been a child sunk in utter loneliness, poverty, fear and hopelessness in Malakai's Black Garden.

That person who had just entered the Hall of the Throne calling out a name:

"Lucy!"

The young Wraith apprentice turned her head quickly, startled, to see a small six-year-old girl running towards her, dangerously stepping on the lace-embroidered bottom of the beautiful imperial onyx dress she was wearing.

With the light of the Father of the Dawn falling through the windows on her, the young girl seemed a divine angel materialized before mere mortal eyes; silky dirty blonde hair, symmetrical and perfect face as if it was that of a doll, small and fragile as if at the slightest blow of the wind she could break down.

The ice in the potential Wraith's dark eyes partially melted against her will as she encountered those honey-colored pairs; it was impossible for her not to fleetingly recall small details of that day in which her destiny changed forever.

"My lady," the masked apprentice greeted her and bowed her head in respect, but the young girl, in exaggerated enthusiasm, began to jump and dance in circles around her. "Princess Asura, you might stumble if you keep doing..."