Bloodright

Prologue

Run. Run, Raiah, and don't stop running. The desperate command of her mother echoed within Raiah's skull, piercing through the shrill cacophony of chaos. It pounded into her senses, synchronizing with the thunderous beat of her heart. Each panicked pulse of her blood reinforced the frantic plea, underscoring the fear and urgency in her mother's voice.

The winter air was brutally cold, a biting wind that seemed to strip the heat from her skin and seep into her bones, making her shiver violently. It was harsh, unforgiving, just like the situation she found herself in. Yet, she pressed forward, propelled by terror and a primal instinct for survival. Her breath hitched in her chest, a staccato rhythm punctuated by raw fear.

As she ducked behind a thicket, her sobs, so eager to break free, were swallowed down with a force that made her chest ache. She clamped her hands over her mouth, her cold sweat mingling with the desperate tears that pooled around her swollen lips. The shrill sounds of pursuit were muffled, her world narrowing to the rush of blood in her ears and the rustle of leaves under a heavy boot.

Every pounding beat of her heart felt like it could betray her, each thump a potential death knell. She clasped a hand over her chest, a futile attempt to still her wildly beating heart. She huddled in on herself, knees drawn to her chest and head tucked down, making herself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

Her prayer was a silent plea, a thread of hope woven into the fabric of her fear. She hoped against hope that her family was safe, tucked away in some hidden nook just as she was. Yet, the silence of the forest, broken only by the ragged gasps of her breath, seemed to mock her wish.

Even as her mind raced with fear, a memory rose to the surface, as vivid as the snowflakes dancing around her. Her father teaching her to be quiet, to hide, to become a shadow in the wilderness. He'd told her it would be useful one day. How eerily prophetic his words had been.

For a fleeting moment, she dared to glance in the direction of the castle. Her home. A beacon of warmth and love now reduced to a burning pyre. She could see the eerie orange glow painting the wintry sky, could smell the thick, acrid smoke carried by the winter breeze. Her heart sank further into the cold pit of despair.

The ground beneath her was cold and unkind, leeching the warmth from her body, yet she didn't dare move. She couldn't afford to draw attention to herself. She held her breath as another soldier passed by, his armor glinting ominously in the faint moonlight. Her heart pounded in her chest, its frantic beat matching the terror coursing through her veins.

Images of her family rushed through her mind, her parents' laughter, her siblings' bickering, the warm evenings spent in the company of her loved ones. Would she ever experience such happiness again? Or was she destined to live in fear, constantly looking over her shoulder, running for her life?

She squeezed her eyes shut, the salty tears freezing on her cheeks. Her hands were numb from the cold, her body trembling from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Yet, she forced herself to stay quiet, to remain hidden.

Finally, when the footsteps grew distant, she allowed herself a moment to breathe. But her relief was short-lived. Because she knew she had to move, to continue her desperate flight for survival. With a final prayer for her family, she crawled out of her hiding spot and darted into the wilderness, her footprints vanishing under the falling snow.

Raiah's heart pounded like a war drum as she sprinted towards the Khamaya Forest. Its vibrant canopy, adorned with hues of pink and purple, had always been her safe haven. But tonight, the forest was ablaze, the sacred trees writhing in an infernal dance of death. The sight was as surreal as it was horrifying, the once majestic flora succumbing to a merciless pyre. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and the acrid taste of devastation.

She tried to bypass the burning forest, her mind screaming at her to keep moving. Her legs carried her through the wilderness as if possessed by a wild spirit. The silhouette of the nearby village, their closest allies, appeared in the distance. A shred of hope kindled within her, urging her to press forward.

But as she stumbled into the village outskirts, her heart sunk. The scene before her was as gruesome as it was heartbreaking. Buildings were aflame, their once sturdy structures collapsing under the fiery assault. Villagers ran in a frenzy, their panicked screams piercing the cold winter air. Mothers clutching their babies, their faces streaked with tears, the innocence of their young ones marred by the terrible spectacle.

She saw a young boy, no older than her brother, clinging to the lifeless form of his father, his cries echoing in the night. A woman, her clothes singed and face smeared with soot, wept over the charred remnants of her home. Everywhere Raiah looked, she was met with desolation, the very essence of their peaceful village torn asunder.

The sight of it all hit Raiah like a punch to the gut. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she collapsed onto her knees, the snow beneath soaking up the bitter tears that spilled from her eyes. Her sobs were lost in the cacophony of the burning village, the heart-wrenching screams, the helpless pleas.

The full extent of the horror finally dawned upon her. This was not a mere attack. This was a systematic extermination, a genocide designed to erase her people from existence. The thought was too monstrous to comprehend, too atrocious to accept. Yet the reality was undeniable, burning all around her in the form of the life she once knew.

As though fleeing from the hounds of hell, Raiah sprinted away from the hellish scene behind her, the burning screams of the village still echoing in her ears. She ran toward the Tree of Salanma, the sacred, colossal tree that was the heart of her land's myth and spirituality. Its bark was as purple as the night, and its branches, heavy with silver leaves, reached out like protective arms.

The grotto by the tree provided a safe, if temporary, refuge. The air there was cool and moist, a stark contrast to the scorching inferno she had left behind. She was thankful that the sacred tree had been spared, a small mercy in a night filled with merciless horrors.

Hidden in the shadows, she listened to the soldiers as they ransacked the village and the nearby forest. Their laughter was cruel and mirthless, a soundtrack to the horror she had just endured. As their raucous voices neared, Raiah pressed herself deeper into the grotto, her heart pounding like a wild beast in her chest.

Soon, the sound of boots crunching on snow filled the air, the ominous noise growing louder and louder. She squeezed her eyes shut, holding back the sobs threatening to escape. She could taste her own fear, her breath shaky and ragged. And then, she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder.

A gasp lodged in her throat as she opened her eyes, expecting to be met with a sneering soldier. Instead, she saw a face that was soft with concern and sadness. The man was older, perhaps close to her father's age, with lines on his face that spoke of a life filled with hardship. His eyes, though, were kind and sorrowful as they took in her appearance: her torn dress, the drying blood on her skin, the terror in her eyes.

His hand, though rough and calloused, was gentle on her shoulder. "It will be okay," he said, his voice quiet but firm. The simple reassurance felt like a balm, a small comfort in the midst of such overwhelming horror. His gaze was steadfast, offering a hint of safety in a world that had turned against her.