Broken Hope

Chapter Two

Isador sat down in a mahogany dinning chair. She sat in a large stone hall, covered in thick tapestries lined with gold and silver. A huge table ran through the center of the hall. Servants scurried around, placing weeks worth of food on the table. Across from Isador sat the thief, beside him was the princess. Azriel began eating her food, politely, as a princess was accustomed. It was surprising to Isador, based off the princess's loudness. But she was a princess all the same, so she mustn't be too horrible. After she finished a few bites, Azriel smiled at the thief.

"Tell me, what is your name?" she inquired.

"Silas," he replied, "Silas Sage." He reached for his fork, but overturned his plate instead. "Oh no..." Azriel giggled.

"It's alright, everyone's clumsy at some point." A young girl swiftly came by and cleaned up the mess. "What about you?" Azriel asked Isador. Isador jumped. "Your name?"

"Isador Norwood."  Azriel looked hard and long at Isador, her brown eyes intense. Azriel nodded, shaking her brown curls. She went back to eating, as did Isador and Silas.

After a long while, Azriel broke the silence, "Tomorrow we set off on a trip into the other kingdom. Both of you shall be bathed and prepared for our departure." She stood up, and motioned them to follow.

She led them down a few corridors, and dropped Silas off a room before Isador. Azriel patted her shoulder, and left. Isador was waited on by two women. They bathed her, clothed her, and helped her pack for the coming day.

At last Isador was alone. The handmaidens had blown out the candles and left her. Isador looked out the window into the starry night sky. Earlier that day she was headed to the other side of the kingdom, in attempt to find sanctuary with her aunt. But now she off to another kingdom, traveling with a princess and a thief. She sighed aloud. "What if they find out?" she asked herself. "What if they find out I'm a witch?" And with that thought, she fell asleep.

The next morning the handmaidens dressed her in a brown traveling gown, and fastened her green cloak about her shoulders. She was led out to the stables, where she was told to ride behind Silas. Isador did not like this as she enjoyed riding, but she didn't want any fuss to be made. The king bid a sorrowful farewell to his daughter, and they took off.

Two days they traveled through the Miserene country side. Until at last they came upon a small town on the outskirts of the vast kingdom. They walked into a small Inn that served food. They sat at the bar, all three adorned with cloaks. Isador immediately noticed the stench. It stunk of shapeshifters and shadow-creepers. Isador knew they must have smelled her. The bartender came up to them, he was drying a pitcher with a cloth. He reeked of shadow stench.

"How may I help you?" He smiled a gruesome smile.

"Pancakes, please," said Azriel. "Mine with strawberries." The bartender nodded and walked off. "So,"Azriel turned her head toward Isador and Silas. "Once we get to the castle there, we need to find a vial of dragon blood." Heads turned toward them.

"Azriel, please," Silas whispered. "Not so loud." Isador silently agreed with him. She felt her knees shaking and chills went down her back. She looked at Silas. He looked terrified, there was something in his icy blue eyes that showed he knew who these people were, and he had had a bad experience with them. 

"Alright, Silas Sage, I won't talk about that. It's rude to cut off a princess of Miserene though, well, a princess of anywhere to be honest." The bartender made his way over, placing pancakes in front if them.

"Did I hear correctly?" he faked a soft gasp. "A princess of Miserene at our little Inn?" He smiled gruesomely. Azriel laughed.

"That you did, sir," she smiled. "Princess Azriel of Miserene," she bowed her head. They bartender bowed with fake shock. He looked at Azriel with an evil smile. His eyes twinkled wickedly. Azriel ate her pancakes, stood, and looked at Isador and Silas.

"Isador, Silas, shall we be off?" Isador bolted up, Silas right behind her. They turned toward the door, but right as they were exiting, their path was blocked by the bartender. He had appeared in front of them in a swirl of black.

"I knew it," Silas murmured. "You're a shadow-creeper." They backed up.

"Um, Silas," Azriel laughed nervously. "What's a shadow-creeper?" Black swirls twisted around them, then solidified into humans.

"Those," he said.

"Okay, another question: how do we get away?"

"We don't." The bartender walked up to them, a rope in one hand, and knife in the other.

"How much money do you reckon the king will pay for his daughter?" he smirked.

"I would guess a few thousand pounds, based on me being his daughter," Azriel said thoughtfully. "But I would hope more because I am his daughter. I would say about..."

"Azriel!" Isador cried. Silas drew a dagger out of his belt and raised it defensively. As the bartender approached him, he brought it ready to strike, but he fell over backwards. The bartender laughed.

"Search them," he said. Silas jumped up, as the shadow-creepers pounced. Isador was blinded by clothes, skin, and the horrible stench of unwashed shadow-creepers. She felt sudden fear. She felt alone. She blacked out, and was pushed into a nightmare.

She was drowning, drowning in a dark lake. Oxygen was bearing reaped from her lungs. She choked on icy water. A thudding heartbeat coursed through her drenched body. The wailing cries of a child surrounded her; the cries of a child being led away from her mother. A piercing scream echoed, adding to the child's cries. The scream rung with a familiar darkness, it was the scream of her mother being burned at the stake. A splash. The sound of her mother's body being dropped in the ocean waves after she died. The child's cries ended, leaving the thumping rhythm of a dull heartbeat. Her vision became foggy, and she regained her senses.

She heard the angered cries of Azriel. She reached out trying to find her companions. She grabbed Azriel's arm, but Silas was gone. One by one she felt and heard shadow-creepers back up, having finished their part of the raid. Eventually she was cleared from them, and was on her feet, grasping Azriel's hand. A blue moved across her visions, and within a matter of seconds Silas was beside them holding all their raided stuff. Isador grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around her, then grabbed her leather-bound book out of his hands.

"Quick," she said as she flipped open her book. "Put on your cloaks and hold onto me." She turned to a page and held her hand up in front of her. She lowered her head to the point where her eyes hurt from forward. Her eyes flashed gold, and golden light stormed from her outstretched hand. The shadow-creepers dispersed. She snapped her book shut. "Follow me," she said. She ran out of the Inn, and helped Azriel mount her horse. "Go," she said.

"What about you?" Silas asked.

"GO!" She grabbed her elbows, and with her left hand still holding her right arm, she thrusted her right hand forward. Golden light spiraled from her fingers, and formed into a peryton. The golden peryton turned solid, and looked at her. It spread its white wings, and scraped its taloned hindquarter against the ground. She ran toward it, and pulled herself onto its back. The shadow-creepers formed again and ran at her. She clicked her fingers against palm and a quarter staff leaked into existence. "Go," she said to the peryton, and they flew off.