Black Woman Preferences & Imagines

Kingdom of Blood

Three black crows perched on the tree branch, they watched intensely at the scene unfolding in the town square. The knights dragged the porcelain body covered with hideous gentian blue and garnet coloured embellishments and her hands restrained by manacles. Her willpower diminished and dignity disappeared. It was only but a few days ago when she was taken by the king's knights and her home raided by the same people. She watched her as her family was slaughtered by the knights as she heard their pitiful whimpers of pain. Tabitha vividly remembers the crimson blood spattered on the wooden floor and the intense glare of the sword in the moonlight.

'This woman, Tabitha Rowe, is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic,' a penetrating and thunderous voice said. 'And pursuant to the laws of Adraria, I, King Philip Windsor, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death.'

Black, short groomed hair hangs over a strong, tense face. Piercing black eyes set buried within their sockets. A scar stretching from just under the right eye, running towards his upper lip and ending on his left cheekbone leaves a stinging memory of past battles. There's something spine-chilling about King Philip, perhaps it's his terrifying demeanour or perhaps it's simply his ghastly behaviour. He continued, 'Sorcery in Adraria has destroyed many lives. Another witch dead is a step to closer peace in Adraria.'

The knights surround her with thick logs and hay. One knight lit up a torch and threw it onto the hay which began burning up. Her eyes widen with anguish as the auburn flickered and danced close to her. Tabitha burned in a sea of red, yellow and orange. Blood-curling screams rang through the air. Many turned away with sadness and disgust. Their noses upturned at the scent of the nauseating smell of burning flesh, an odour that can never be forgotten. As if in disgust, the three crows turned their heads and flew into the forest.

Adraria, beautiful kingdom made from blood and tears of the lower class. The castle was upon the hill surround by tall walls. Five grey massive towers are linked with small bridges and are connected by lower, narrow walls made of basalt. Rough windows are scattered generously around the walls in seemingly perfect symmetry. This castle has clearly been around for at least a thousand years' rich with history and blood. On the stone wall, hung big beige handwoven tapestry boarded by thick green exhibiting Adraria emblem. The green serpent that seemed it was glaring at the scene that has taken place. Around the world, the Adraria emblem was known for vengeance and chaos.

As the sun made its descent to the late afternoon. King Philip galloped into the forest on a dapple grey horse. The forest was enormous, dark, and prospering. Its canopy was overshadowed dense-growing trees, their crowns allowed for short beams of light to descend. Thick coiled branches hung from most trees. Thin climbing plants hung from most trees, and a variety of flowers, which grew in a sprinkled and disorderly fashion. A medley of animal sounds, which were caused by insects and critters, reverberated through the air. The horse suddenly stopped as if from fear. The grey horse's eyes widen as he holds his head high with his mouth shut and ears pricked forward and exhale forcefully through his nose. The dappled horse suddenly reared in fright and King Philip is suddenly thrown off its back. He lands on the forest ground with a heavy thud as the horse bolts to escape its fear.

The crows transformed into three human figures each covered by thick cloaks. Three women each wore thick black cloaks that covered their face, they surrounded him. They circled him slowly like a vulture circling their prey. The three women spoke in unison, 'A crown soaked with the blood of the innocence and terrible sins.'

King Philip hissed, 'You should fear me because I am your king.' He pulls his steel sword from the sheath covered with a print of silver snake. The blade has a broad, slightly curved cross-guard, adding weight to the blade for a better weight balance, as well as offering hand protection during battle. He clasped the silver pommel decorated with memorising bright green agate gemstones with both of his hands. His weapon was clearly not meant to be wielded by a simple commoner instead rich man.

They continued to circle him without hesitation or fear. Their faces still covered by the dark hood attached to the cloak. The witches whispered in unison, 'It is time for you to pay for your sins.'

He shouted, 'Answer me, dim-witted harlots. Who are you?' King Philp's voice reaching a new high to disguise his internal distress. The witches were taunting him like he was a weak commoner, how dare they insult the mighty King of Adraria. He turns around anxiously trying to not leave an open space. He swung his sword in hopes of causing injury to these witches stalking him. An invisible force knocked him to the ground and left him disarmed as his sword was taken by the same force. 'Witches!'

'The mighty king and how he has fallen,' the cloaked witches hissed. 'Your throne was built from the blood of others and your kingdom built on pitiful wars. Now, you slaughter commoners without guilt or sympathy and dishonour their names. All this anguish and murder for riches and power.'

'If riches are what you want, as King of Adraria that is what you shall have. You can be the richest in the land if you let me live, so I can repent my sins. Let me have the chance to prove that I am worthy of life. Show forgiveness,' King Philip begged. The witches suddenly stop circling and stared at King Philip. How pathetic he has become when death in on the line? The same king who doesn't care of another's life but his own. He will suffer as much as his victims have.

They chanted, 'Ignis, ignis, ignis.' The witches begin chanting, their voices increasing with every word. King Philip began to scream and his body twitched. The intense burning spread fast throughout his body and his skin flashed bright crimson. Dark smoke appeared from his body, his dark thick hair began to disintegrate and fell into his palms. The witches smiled at the sound of his screams and whimpers of pain that covered the sharp bone cracking inside his body. Blood starts pouring from his eyes and King Philip claws at his eyes because of the pain. His body melts until there's nothing left but his steel sword and his golden crown.

Ignis: fire    

-this a literature story that I wrote. I just wanted to tell you all that I am back to write and finish off what I started. For my main book; I am getting there quiet slow and this I will do as much as I can during my holidays.