Thunder boomed overhead as the cloaked figure raced through the forest. She sprinted over twisting vines and rotting tree trunks, running from the terrors that the villagers had been turned into. Rain poured down, drenching the young woman and the midnight black cloak that covered her grim face and figure. Mangled sounds of men shouting echoed through the shadowed forest, urging her to run even faster, her lungs ready to burst from her chest.
She leaped gracefully over an ancient fallen tree that had once towered with pride, but now lay on the ground, rotting away along with the glory it had once possessed. She refused to look back at the tree, scared she would see those bloodied bodies behind her. She swiped her dark, wet hair out of her eyes, huffing with exertion.
The forgotten forest was like the kingdom, once glorious and powerful but left to deteriorate away with whatever pride it had left dying inside it. The young woman shook her head, mentally pushing back old memories of a time before the Dark Ones came.
The shouting became louder, indicating that the horrid men were not far behind. She brought up two scarred fingers to her mouth and whistled; a loud, shrill whistle that echoed throughout the dark forest. Not long after, sounds of man-made growls and screeches could be heard. She smirked devilishly and ran until the surrounding forest had disappeared and a large field came into view.
Leaving her mischievous victory behind, she slowed down to a deceivingly casual walk. She looked down and frowned at the audible crunch the lifeless grass made beneath her booted toes. This very grass used to be full of life; hell, the grass used to radiate energy. Death had not only come to the villagers, but to the very Earth itself.
She reached the end of the field, stepping into the dark shadow of the Tower. From this distance, she couldn't hear any sounds echoing from the dark forest. A smirk washed away the solemn look on her face. Yet again, the wild peoples of the forest helped her to escape. Despite their primal nature, they understood the difference between the sickened villagers and the survivors.
The Tower loomed above her, marking the end of the cancerous field. Lanterns were lit inside, illuminating the forms of the few awake occupants watching from barred windows. She stopped to glare at the large, ugly structure that was supposed to be their safe haven of a new home. The castle was a lot of things, but a home? More like a prison.
Suddenly, a familiar high-pitched voice called out into the night, dripped with a mother's terror, "Alexandra!"
YOU ARE READING
The Lady Knight
Teen FictionNo one knows where the Dark Ones came from, or what they are. All that was known is that they were extremely deadly, powerful, and worst of all: they were here. Alexandra is a 19...
