(3.3K words — 14 min. read)
Chapter Seven
THE CRY OF STORMS
I.
Ashley woke up to a steady rocking.
Her head throbbed, and her ears screamed. She blinked rapidly and saw her surroundings shifting into view, one feature at a time.
She found herself sitting against a wall—scraped and scratched, out of a sturdy wood. The floor had the same material, stretching all around her against the dark, rotting walls. A pair of shattered windows hung up in front of her, letting in the sunlight and the blue, along with two more, wider and rounder, by her sides, where she saw the thick white clouds speeding behind in a flurry. A door stood locked on the opposite side. Ahead, a large person sat on a wooden bench, cracking under her weight.
A large flying carriage? she thought. An air... ship?
Ashley's throat felt dry. She moved her arms and legs around and found them free from any restraints. Squinting ahead, she scanned her captor—a tall woman, chiseled by the arms and built on the legs, clad in a thick cloak and trousers as green as trees. Her long dark brown hair, masked by a sloppy wax of white dye, flowed behind her in a mess.
The orphan swallowed. "What do you want from me?"
The woman had been shuffling with something with her arms, concealed by her sprawling back. At the sound of Ashley's voice, she stopped.
Her voice sounded coarse. "What do I want from you?"
The woman rose to full height, casting a wide shadow on all of Ashley as she towered close to the ceiling. She turned around and faced the orphan.
Her skin was tanned to bronze, and her copper eyes glinted off a spark as the light touched them. Muscles ran through her arms and legs, marked with numerous symbols using black ink, and her body spread far and wide, covered with brilliant leather. She placed her palms in front of her, resting on the hilt of Ashley's blade, cracked in some parts and with a few gemstones missing, as it pierced through the wooden floor.
She gritted her teeth and spoke, "You're just a price and nothing more."
Ashley's blood froze. She wanted to stand up, but her legs kept in place. She pressed her back against the wall and forced her eyes at the woman's.
"You're the earthbound the clouds picked up from filth," the woman continued. "Go on. Show me a trick."
The woman tossed the sword at Ashley's side. The orphan flinched as the blade scratched and screeched across the floor, gathering splinters and dust on its way.
Ashley stared at the sword, then at the woman, who now glared at her with a twitching eye.
"Show me a trick," the woman snarled.
The orphan's breathing hurried. Her fingertips felt none as she gripped tightly at the floorboards.
"I don't have any—"
"Obviously," the woman said. "That's why I don't understand why everyone thinks you're special."
Muttering curses under her breath, the woman sat back on her bench, facing the orphan down. Ashley kept her gaze at her as her fingers slowly reached for the hilt of her blade.
YOU ARE READING
The Celestial Princess
FantasiaTo Ashley's grim misfortune, she grew up as an orphan in a town that hated orphans. For sixteen years, she lived under the hatred of the people around her without ever finding willing parents to love and care for her--and she is not surprised. Now c...
