The Princess of Wrath

Chapter 1 - Part II: End-World

Waking up from one of her recurring nightmares, Asura felt a gentle shaking in her right shoulder, one of the areas that had almost completely healed after several —and impossible to quantify due to the cloth covering her eyes— days of raw and extreme cold.

Naturally, she began to shiver and her naked body to violently spasm. The heat from the campfire could do little to protect her from the frigid atmosphere of that night.

"Time to eat, miss."

Asura heard the voice of her savior and at the same time felt the appetizing aroma of roasting meat reaching her nostrils. In the cold darkness, she could do nothing but reluctantly accept the help of the man: he straighten her and, like a baby, fed her by introducing small bits of food into her mouth.

The stranger's hand felt warm and firm against her back, yet as rough as that of any warrior that had lived a life wielding a sword. Perhaps supporting the weight of her body was nothing to him, but Asura barely had the strength to chew and swallow those little pieces of poorly cooked and greasy meat, but her survival instincts were more than grateful for those treats.

"Now water... Be careful, it's very cold," he warned her. "It's your turn, boy: change the fabrics on the bed."

A fine and soft torrent of water began to slide into her mouth, making Asura completely lose interest in this new person who was currently working on that hard and uncomfortable bed in which she had been lying for so many days.

She never drank so much in her life before, despite the fact that it was so cold that it caused more burning inside her, but she did not realize about that pain at any time. Not with the rest of her body aching non-stop.

"Well done. I wish you could see yourself, miss: compared to how I found you, you look better now. Your wounds are closing faster than I expected, although I cannot say the same for your arms, unfortunately... Too much damage..."

As he whispered mostly to himself, her savior helped her lie down and smoothed damp cloths over her head. Then he began the now routine and lengthy job of changing the bandages that covered her body, surely making her look like an embalmed corpse.

Meanwhile, in a moment of clarity and clemency granted by the temporary break in her fever, Asura was able to make better use of her ears and sense of smell.

Focusing, she was able to hear and feel for the first time something more than the crackling of the fire or the aroma of meat: the wind bringing with it the smell of the sea; the movement of the leaves of the trees; a little further, hammering against metal; the mysterious pealing of a bell...

Something inside Asura caused more tremors than the cold did, making her squirm. It was the unmistakable sense of danger.

"I know, I know... Don't worry about it, miss. Please try not to move."

The man was forced to interrupt his work and pin Asura down. Just by taking her shoulders and pressing a little, she was totally defeated.

She coughed several times and her chest began to rise and fall in desperation. Such was her physical and mental weakness that, once her savior released her, she lost consciousness again.

When Asura awoke, hours or days later, the results of her savior's care began to take effect. The fever had finally faded; the cold was a tiny fraction more tolerable and her mind was clear, without that deep general pain that spread to every corner of her head. Her senses were alert and her muscles responded, allowing her to bring her right hand up to her face and remove the bandages that covered her eyes.

When she opened them, after having them closed for so long, the shadows that clouded her vision took some time to clear up. Aided by the light from the bonfire, she made out a silhouette, which was the size and shape of a child...