The Claim

Chapter One - In The Beginning

Outside roared with anger and fury, magic thrown in desperation, met with steel. Mirabelle fearfully peeled back the curtains, fearful yet intrigued as she stood, barely able to reach the soft blue fabric. Without a word, her mother slapped her hand away, grabbing it, she glanced into her daughter's jade green eyes, a contrast to their shared light hair, a very light shade of blonde.

The look of terror in her mother's eyes sent an uncontrollable shiver, not helped as the mother hugged her gently, a tear hitting her favourite blue dress. Not a word was said as her mother shook her brother awake as he slept silently in his bed.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, watching to see what was going on but he too was met with the cruellest of silence, just their mother's weary hands and streams of tears. She took her children's hands and knelt to their height, not bothering about staining her brilliant white dress.

"Mother", Mirabelle began.

"There is not time, my children", her mother replied, silencing them softly.

"What's going on?" Merek asked as his voice trembled.

"My beautiful children, you have to leave, you cannot stay here" their mother explained as tears rolled down her pale, soft cheeks.

Barely eight, they barely understood what was happening, they could just hear the frightened screams of those around them, friends, family and neighbours, the roaring flames, the magnificent hooves of the black stallions, the roaring flames engulfing homes. There came the sharp sound of steel, with people running, screaming in terror, hoping beyond hope for mercy.

Mirabelle wrapped her hand in her mother's light hair as she threw their cloaks on them, handing them their mother's large grimoire, a witch's most treasured possession. She pulled their hoods up, leaving her own down as she led them to the back, to the untouched stables, to her beautiful white mare.

With a tear, she helped Merek onto the horse, glad as he offered Mirabelle his hand. The children looked at their mother, hope in their eyes as their mother watched the soldiers.

"Mother" Mirabelle cried, calling out, her hand outstretching, calling for her mother's hand.

Their mother let a final tear roll down her cheek as she looked at the beautiful mare. "Take care of my children", she ordered before untying the reins, letting her go free, watching as the children were sent far into the distance. A deep pain struck her heart as it split. Watching them go was the hardest decision yet she knew, in her heart, it was the right one.

She turned silently to a group of soldiers, not uttering a single word as she raised her hands. The winds blew violently, the bitter cold struck them as she threw them off their feet.

They were not going to take the lives of her children, her own life, she had her chance and she failed, it made her life unimportant, made her disposable but they were important, their lives were important, they had a destiny she didn't have, as the son and daughter of a king, bastards or not, their mother was sure they'd reclaim their throne when times were right, when all was said and done.

She tried to throw them again as they scrambled to their feet, fearful, angry but alive. If she killed them while her children were still in the city, then more soldiers would come, find her, find them and she'd have failed what was most important – them.

She threw another spell, causing the very plants around them to rise, to claim them, hoping that it would buy her children time, that she wouldn't feel their deaths and know that in everything, she had failed.

Anger caused vines to crawl up their bodies, tighten as they choked, spluttering, forcing themselves to breathe as their faces reddened and their eyes bulged at her eyes, those angry eyes filled with fury for their master, her once lover, father to her children and the very man who sat upon that throne.

"If you live, tell your king, he cannot have what is precious to me, it has gone", she whispered eerily, as the vines loosened for just one, beginning to unravel yet took his sword and bow. "Go, tell your king" she whispered as the vines tightened on the other two. They choked, hanging, shaking until they didn't, they stopped, hanging there lifeless as she threw their bodies onto the ground.

She stepped over them, making her way towards the castle, her head high, her eyes full of bitterness and anger but she was going to go down fighting.