She remembered the first time she had questioned their situation. She had been ten, laying down with her head in her mother's lap, as her mother gently brushed and braided her long raven hair. She had looked at their prison of a room and uttered, 'Mother, we don't just leave.'. she had been eager to see trees, deer, wildflowers, and the other things her mother always told her about. 'I wish it were that simple my dear. Those who don't have freedom can't decide what they want.' Her mother had told her, crashing her vision of a simple and easy life.
She had then uttered the words that had altered her thing and changed her way of life, 'Why don't we fight for our freedom'. She had asked with the innocence of a child, but the answer she was given made her question their past. 'My child, our ancestors were promised land, on one condition, we weren't allowed to disturb its peace and serenity. Blood should never be shed on those lands, or by our hands, otherwise we will never find comfort or happiness' Her mother's words had done nothing but confuse her. What was the use of staying under the cruel hands of the dark elves if they could fight for their freedom, for their lives?
She was now 17, and the weight of their imprisonment still held her down. The dark elves, the people she was forced to work for were cruel. They would terrorize her people daily, and she was forced to sit, watch, and take what she was given, never asking for more. She walked down the hallway, in her hand she carried a tray full of breakfast for the prince. The prince had suddenly taken a liking to her, at which she chose to carry around the knife she had stolen from the kitchen. She didn't trust the prince or any member of the royal family. Well, maybe the princess was an exception. The princess, much like herself, was trapped in her chambers, never allowed to leave. Vivian stared down the tray in her hand, her expression a look of disgust. She hated the fact that her family and she barely got scraps as food while the royals in this place ate more than they could digest.
She took a deep long breath as she finally reached the prince's chamber, his guards looking her up and down. Their gaze caused dread to bubble in her chest. Carefully balancing the tray in one hand she reached the other one up to knock on the door of the prince's chambers.
"ENTER" a voice called out. Carefully opening the door she peeked inside. "What are you waiting for" the prince said when she didn't move. He sat there in his bed, wearing barely anything but his robes. She tried her best to keep her emotions off her face as she slowly walked inside, the guards closing the door behind her. She hurried shuffling behind the now-closed door. The realization then dawned on her, the guards had left their post. This meant only one thing. Terror settled down in her stomach.
Vivian tried her best to steady herself. The knife felt cold all of a sudden, pressed against her thigh where she had hidden it by tying it down with a piece of cloth. Carrying the tray over to the prince, she carefully put it down on the bed. She then took a couple of steps back, then looked down at the floor. Even though she hated it, she followed the manners and etiquette her mother had taught her over and over. She felt the prince's eyes digging holes into her, she didn't like it one bit but what choice did she have? She clasped her hands to stop them from shaking. She didn't dare look up when she heard the prince get up from his bed. She didn't dare move a muscle when he walked closer. All she could do was stand there and focus on her breathing as he touched her cheek.
Before she knew he had thrown her on the bed and was now tackling her down. That's when fight or flight kicked in and she screamed. He clasped a hand over her mouth as he ripped the rags off her body. She wouldn't let him, she couldn't. Her mind was racing as her hand went to the knife tied tightly to her thigh. She quickly took it out, and using all her strength she stabbed him. His eyes almost bulged out of his head as she stabbed him right in the chest, twisting the knife. bloody dripped down her hand as he crumpled. He was dead. She had killed him. She had killed a man. She had killed the man whose father controlled the very fate of her people. What had she done?
Her mother's words kept ringing in her ears. In her delusion and prejudice her mother would never accept her now.
YOU ARE READING
The Fall of Divinity
FantasíaWhen even the heavens are against them, can they ever find each other? Vivian had been born into slavery, her family, her ancestors having been prisoners of the dark elves for a long time. Her people were peaceful when the invaders took them. Violen...
