Hellinía

Chapter 1

  I woke up to warm breath cascading down my neck. It was an amazing feeling, as if the warmth of the breath was leaving trails of kisses like bread crumbs. A hand runs across my engorged stomach to hold my closer, the life inside of me disagrees and moves. I let out a quiet giggle and sat up, taking the sheets with me. It was a cold night, the fresh air from the windows chilled my skin. I went to close it but the faint smell of lavender invaded my nostrils. Strange as I nor my lover liked lavender, we prefer roses or Lilly's. As the wind blows through me the smell grows stronger. Is it an incense? But the wind would have blown it out. A hand reaches through the window and grabs my arm, its blood soaked palm stained my skin. I shouted and woke up my lover, who quickly took me to safety outside of the room. He gave me a club in case something goes wrong, closing our room door. Then it dawns on me, our room was on the fifth floor. Suddenly a loud boom threw the door open, my lovers scorched imprint was all that was left of him. A hooded figure had incinerated him to dust, in a fit of anger I charged at it with the club. It stopped me with a hand on my stomach, and with a soft chant he had removed my child. Pulling my child through my flesh cleanly and painlessly. I fell on my knees, weak and breathless. The figure left me there, i fainted, only to wake up to my maid Fionna crying in a fit hysteria. As i inspected my body and noticed immense amount of blood coming from me. A Celtic symbol was drawn on my stomach with my own blood. And my unborn child was gone, stolen from me. I will never forget the silhouette of my lovers body burned into the floor, nor the feeling of having my baby removed from me.
   Several years after my horrible memory I have become the commander of my father's army and head for his war plans. I operate every single battle tactic, and execute them on the battlefield myself. I charge with my army and treat them like my own. I can name all my armymen and their birth dates. My father and older sister call me a fool for befriending my subordinates but I do not mind. Sometimes it feels as if they are my family, laughing and being there for me more than my own father. My father… he is to say the least… unforgiving. He is strict and cruel, he takes no short cuts. Father is the king of our strong kingdom, we provide the army's of our country. Our men are the most tactical, and our women are very physically strong. We base our beliefs and training on an old empire, the Spartans of accident Greece. Even the royal family must train, my sister and I were beat and trained mercilessly. Even when I am the youngest, I came out as the strongest. At 20 I've become a commander of our armies and navy's, while my sister at 22 is a trainer. The people always compare us to each other, infuriating my sister. Shes told me repeatedly that she never wishes to be like me, she hopes I die a painfully gruesome death.
   It pains me to hear it but what can I do? I may be her higher up but she is my sister first, so I will love her. Though her name makes me the slightest bit jealous, Krystal… that name… rolls off my tongue perfectly. While Hellinía spills from my lips like poison, I hate it. I cannot believe father and mother agreed to name me such a thing. Well, father did… mother had died birthing me, father said she was ill. I visit her grave when I can to speak to her, seeking out advice and sometimes to just read. I love the books of Bethany Archinov, she writes about the crooked government she serves and records her encounters with them. Near the end of her series she dies a glorious death, but not until she assassinates seventeen government officials. She uses her sexuality to do so, the clever girl. She is my hero, and I hope to become like her one day.
   While returning to the castle I notice a young boy, he cannot be more than 14 years old. He is training with my sister, which is odd because we only take men that are 18 years of age. No younger, no older. I ask another trainer and he states that the boy was left by an older woman. The woman allegedly had a private conversation with my father, who has taken him in and is now training him. Not as a son, but as an heir. To follow and to fight in my fathers foot steps, he is taught by my father, and cared for by my fathers personal help. I have yet to speak with the boy but from what I've heard his name is Mathew. I have questioned my sister about Mathew and his origins but she says the same as father, "He just happened upon us Hellinía, like a gift from the gods."
   I have yet to believe in such a crazy claim, there are no gods sending us gifts. Only delusional humans, finding excuses for our own existence.