Spirit Warrior - The Keeper Of The Northern Gate

The Keeper of the Mountain - I

The Queen

I watch as the spirits dance over the sky filling it with colors. The night is cold and with every breath I take, my lungs burn. And with every breath I release mist forms in the air. I've curled into a ball trying to keep warm, but nothing helps. The cold is unforgiving and forces its way into every limp of my body.

My shaking is increasing even when I try to stop it. I feel the warmth pulling away from my skin focusing on my core. It's getting harder to move my fingers and I feel like I no longer have toes. My lips have now cracked more times than I care to count, leaving little trails of blood running down my chin. I can't look out of my eyes properly, they've almost swollen shut.

Soon the light of the night changes for the shimmering lights of the day peaking over the treetops. Where is he now? Why hasn't he come for me? My King? He was never what I had thought. He's a coward, hiding in his castle.

In the first hours of the night, I was scared. Scared of everything hiding here in the night, but now I'm no longer scared. I don't know if it's the cold that's numbed my feelings as well or if I've accepted the thought of dying out here. Alone. Right now dying sounds like my only escape. It might be my only chance of escaping these bars that keep me captive and be free.

"Have you thought of change of behavior? Princess?" From my spot on the cold ground I look over at my kidnapper. I try to focus on his face but after some time just stop trying, and just let the image stay blurry. Maybe it won't hurt as much if just let go? Stop trying?

"You'll do best to answer me; I'm not a patient person," He angrily hammers his hand into the wall of the tree house that my cage leans up against, breaking splinters of wood off. His open display of power doesn't faze me much. I've lived my whole life in a castle where power was never constant and there for there was a constant battle for it. The only position that never changed was my fathers. Being king was something you were born to be. So the only one not fighting to be something more than they were born to be was the royal family. The royals never had anything to fight for, they always had everything. Do I have anything to fight for?

"I bet he will come for you soon." That catches my attention. Who would come for me? My father? He has no power here; he also has three other daughters so losing one wouldn't make much of a difference. Then who would come for me? The man I was sold to? I doubt that, even if I would want him to.

"You think too highly of me, I doubt my absence has been noticed. I'm no more than a slave sold to a king, my status only matters for the buyer, but not for me, my life will be enslavement no matter what, my life and happiness matters little to a king," I spit out with venom lanced in my voice. What had I expected? I'm so stupid. I feel like I can die from embarrassment for thinking I can be important to anyone. After all, I am disposable. There'll always be a new one to take my place if I should die. Still the thought of the King with anyone else makes my hear yearn in a uncontrollable way.

"I don't quite believe you," He starts pacing around the cage, from time to time looking at me. I stare back at him crossly. If I'm going to die, then why not show some backbone while I'm at it.

"You see, he's already out looking for you. And if what's my mother says is true then, he'll attack at sundown," I furrow my brow. Can what he says be true? Or is it just to make me hold on for a little while longer. When I look at him once again I can't help but feel like he's lying to me.

"You must be special since you can lure him out of his den. I've tried for years, nothing aggravated him enough, or maybe he just didn't care enough for anything. But now he has a weakness, you. A weakness that'll bring him down, just like brought down this village by slaying my father," His chest's heaving and his breath is raged. His eyes are turning dark like and he's clenching his fists so hard his knuckles are turning white.