Enchanting Disguise

Chapter 1

A/N

hey guys, my name is Saskia and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.

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I caught a flash of movement in my right eye and panic surged through every vein in my body. I was completely frozen in place which also rendered me powerless to stop what I knew was coming next. the noise around me had dulled as if I had something stuck in my ears. I felt the ache of the hit as I watched the sword plunge into his stomach. I stood there in a daze silently watching. Just watching the blood begin to trickle out of the puncture. I felt the eyes of an unfamiliar source burn into my back, just as i became aware of this i felt the cooling wind graze against the back of my neck where my hair had become matted with sweat and blood. The unfamiliar presence was gone. Was somebody watching me? Clouds covered my vision as I gradually made my way towards him through the endless fighting.

He lay there twitching silently like the current chaos around him wasn't happening at all. Cautiously i kneeled down onto the soft mud, letting my painted sword drop to the floor, and used my stained red fingers to move the damp brown hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead from covering his eyes. He was barely breathing, gasping for the suffocating air. Before I could think about my actions my hand moved gently to his stomach where the blade had struck. My hand felt a deep pulsing motion coming from his wounded torso. It travelled through my hand, across my arm and was carried throughout my body, instantly making me rake with shivers. I continued to stare at the red liquid coming from the stab wound which coated my hand in a thick fluid. Panic and anger began to fill me up along with the vomit that had begun to rise up my throat. He gently peered up at me through his long black eyelashes with those glistening magenta eyes. It's funny how even though i heard not even a whisper escape his mouth, his eyes screamed 1000 words. I could only watch the pain he felt escape through the tears that left his eyes as neither of us could choke out a word.

I could see the strength disappearing from them; every ounce of him was slowly dissolving into nothing. Nothing. Never has that word meant more to me than it does now. I always associated the word nothing with well, nothing. Nothing was a word that I never gave any significance to, it never seemed important. A word that you could easily throw around and not think about what you were actually saying. But now... it described my whole entirety, the whole mess that was me. I felt nothing as I watched the shine that adorned his eyes wash away along with the mesmerizing pigment they used to hold. it was only now that I noticed the dark blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

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Annaliese's eyes shot open at the sound of her own scream. She automatically sat up panting and struggling for breath as if she was being strangled. Annaliese was currently in a room that wasn't her own only to remember That she have been moved from my usual quarters as she couldn't deal with all of the memories that took place there. as if each memory of him was like a stab to the leg. Every fortnight since that fateful day Annaliese had been having the same visual experience. to her its not a dream and certainly not a nightmare.

Why?

A nightmare is an experience that lives to horrify and scar your memories for however long you let it. But, you cannot scar what has already been scarred. People are naive enough to think that getting your heart broken and then finding love again will seal those cracks. However, they are wrong. You cannot rip up a piece of paper and simply put it back together again, it doesn't work like that, neither do hearts.

A dream is a somewhat pleasant image created by your brain to fool simple minded people into thinking that everything is fine and dandy. she hasn't had one of those for a while. but Annaliese likes to believe that that means that she's not a simple minded person. by making sure not to move Annaliese waits for any sounds of approaching footsteps of servants before she carefully lifts the plush quilt off of her damp body dressed in only a thin silk night gown. she quickly pulls on a pair of cotton pants and a thin cotton top to hide from the cold that was certain roamed the halls. She slinked across the icy marble floor towards the old fashioned door; crafted with old solid oak and pure gold trimmings. Turning the doorknob she opened the door enough to poke her head outside of the room. The gentle humming of rain beating against the floor to ceiling length windows disguised my great escape as Annaliese wandered down the frosty hallway.

Old and worn extravagant rugs soften her footsteps as i made my way down the hall. Fifth room to the right, her mind reminds her. She counts the doors and then turns face to face with a door similar to her own. Annaliese unlocks the door and steps into the darkness that enveloped the room before taking her with it. The grey sky lit up with cracks of thunder and lightning exposes the Grey and charcoal coloured blocks of stone which made up the walls of the washroom, an enormous rounded bathing tub took up the majority of the room. A flash of lightning lit up the room for another split second, just enough for her to see her once vibrant and now dull green eyes in the mirror that took up half of the back wall.

Eyes that hold so much distress but also blaze with passion, a passion that is refuelled after every sordid visual experience. Thick black eyelashes shrouded my vision as she peers into the mirror, taking in every bit of her appearance. The small mousy ears that were frequently hidden by the mass of icy white tangles that is her hair.

The faded scar that runs down the right side of her face in a clean cut line. all the while reliving the memory of how it happened.

High cheekbones that protruded out of her face immediately defining the rest of the not so strong features. She ran her thumb along the thin line of her lips, 'just like your brother' her mother would say. Her mother... Annaliese longed to hear her speak her name just one last time. Driven insane by the loss of her son it took her life years before it was suppose to be taken. The whole land mourned for its queen and still do till this very day. Annaliese wasn't ready for her to leave. Her eyes unconsciously closed and cool droplets of salty liquid ran down her cheeks at the thought of her lost family, creating a soft pitter patter against the white porcelain sink. because her tears mirrored the storm going on outside the could not be heard by anyone but her. All of a sudden all of the muscles in her body relaxed and her mind was set on a certain destination in the castle. Slowly stepping out of the washroom she wandered down the hallway careful not to make a sound. Annaliese was fully aware of where her legs were taking me and she let them take her there; while not bothering to wipe off the tears that stained her cheeks.

Annaliese softly grazed her hand against the rough wall, guiding it down to the room she knew all too well. she began to push open the door when the smell of steel and sweat attacked her nose, instantly comforting her earlier distress.

She allowed my eyes to shut as a refreshing sensation swept over her entire body leaving my mind cleared and calm. As She reopened her eyes she saw that the rosy sun had risen and bathed the room in a fresh spring glow, which in turn exposed the dark walls of the training room and the red mats that covered the floor. Moving over to the weapons rack she felt truly at home, she felt safe. having spent most of her life in this room she felt a certain comfort about being in there. there'l was just something about the way the swords feel in her hands. the weapons rack on the left side of the room covered the whole wall and was overflowing with different types of weapons. There were swords, daggers, bows and arrows; anything you desired to wield. As if by instinct Annaliese ran her hand over the familiar cool steel of her most prized sword. It called to her, begging, pleading for her to wield it and let it harness her energy.

Lifting the weapon off of the rack she moved over to the nearest red mat and started to put her body in the familiar stance when using the sword. Legs wide, back slightly bent over, just enough so that she kept a strong poise. she started to move her body in the precise movements taught to her by her personal instructor for when she was needed in battle or any confrontation came her way. A relaxed sigh escaped Annaliese's mouth as she let her instincts take over to guide the way. the trainers voice nagged her at the back of her mind.

"Swordplay is like dancing Annaliese, you must be in time with your partner and act out a sequence with rhythm. your opponent will most likely be very experienced and try to knock you out of rhythm. if you have never listened to anything I've said then you must listen now. I am begging you to never let go of your sword. even if your hands are bloody and broken. you are the princess so no one will hesitate to kill you as soon as they can. they won't play fair and give you the chance to pick up your sword. Now, act out the moves as i say them. Right foot forward, both hands up, bring the sword down in a slashing motion, swing the sword forward aiming for your opponent's waist and around to let it rest at your shoulder. Twist your body around to gain momentum and be ready for a cla-"