My name is Freya, a name that embodies strength and power. I am the opposite of my name.
I was an orphan, my home was St. Marilee's. I still remember that day. The sky cried wet, heavy tears as the other students quietly studied. The priests walked the halls, solemnly, whispering prayers that would go unheard. I was sixteen, instead of marriage, I was training to become a scholar. I saw no point in love, I had never felt it's warmth, nor did I need to. That day, the birds were dead silent. We had received news that the neighboring kingdom was invading, rather than fleeing, the orphanage decided to stay put. I remembered watching out the window as the people of our small town slowly left, one by one. The other children were calmer, the older students were wilder, even so, we all knew the end was coming. I had burned all of my books, the sent of ink on ancient paper filled the courtyard and illuminated the grey building. Then, finally, they came. The sound of a horses heavy hoofs echoed through the bare halls, their swords clacked against the metal armor, the head of the orphanage, Mr. Deetrie, was forced to let them in. They had our mentors and teachers go in separate rooms, separated us by gender, and had each child line up. They examined us, I had assumed we were going to be turned into slaves, or much worse. One of them in particular was fascinated with me. He had golden hair, pale skin, and deep brown eyes. His eyes pierced through me, I clenched my jaw as the taste of pure, bitter fear swarmed my insides. There was a scream from one of the rooms the teachers were held in. It was my mentor, Miss Clara. The sound sent the students awry. Some fell to the ground, others ran. The blades that were once securely sheathed in place were now soiled in red. Some of the knights used magic against the students. The thick ooze pooled around my teachers and friends, my family. Some of the blood even made it's way on my shoes. I was unable to move, fear kept me nailed to the ground. One of the knights approached me, he raised his blade to my neck. I didn't dare flinch. The blond man stood next to him,
"What about this one general?" The knight asked
The blond man was a general, fear shook my body even more,
"Keep her, she seems the right age," the general smirked, "if you're a good girl nobody will harm you, do you understand?" He asked,
I could only nod as soft tears rolled down my face. I didn't understand what their intentions were, or why they chose me. If it was for that reason, wouldn't they choose someone prettier, like Janice or Irene? Unlike the other students, my skin is tanned, my eyes are strawberry red, and my hair is dark brown and long. Confusion swarmed my thoughts and everything went black.
When I woke up, I saw nothing but darkness. I was blindfolded and my hands were bound. I heard two people talking,
"Is she still asleep?" One male voice asked,
"Yes, the petite thing is extremely fragile," the blond general replied,
"We'll have to fix that," the stranger paused, "keep her alive at all costs," he ordered,
"Yes, My Lord," the blond general complied,
"Oh and one more thing, Desmond,"
"Yes, Duke Herman?"
"I expect you to treat her with utmost care, she's extremely valuable, understand?" The dukes voice grew stern, I could hear the threat behind his words,
"Of course, My Lord," general Desmond sounded fearful. I almost jumped as someone opened what sounded like the flap of a tent,
"To think, a girl from the south ended up in an orphanage in the north." General Desmond mumbled. I kept my breathing slow, to try and fake unconscious, but I quickly panicked as he began to walk closer. There was a firm hand on my bound wrist, two fingers soon searched for a pulse. Someone called for him outside and he quickly left me alone in the tent. When all I could hear was the sound of my own heart beat I managed to sit up. The tears came quickly, before I knew it, I began sobbing. My friends, my mentors, the closest thing I had to a family was gone, just like that. The home that had raised me and groomed me from infancy, burned to the ground. It hurt, it hurt so much that I could no longer keep my sobs silent. I'm sure someone could hear as I quietly gasped for air. The blindfold, soaked with tears, was cold on my eyes. I cried and mourned until I fell back asleep. I had no dreams left in me that night.
