The imbecile chattered on and on with a corpse down in the courtyard below my tower. My captor, a fearsome necromancer known as Torial. That’s what the world believed, I was sure of it. I had been absolutely flawless in my planning. I left no one alive who knew, not a single one had escaped my curse.

Perhaps a rescuer will appear tomorrow I thought, surely someone would seek to save the eldest princess from the clutches of a dark sorcerer.

Princes and Knights always sought to rescue damsels in distress. Even the occasional peasant would take up arms to rescue a beautiful heir to the throne.

Surely it wouldn’t be much longer. Torial’s rumored power was nothing, so surely someone would come and defeat him. He was merely an apprentice, a stable boy, before I filled his mind with dark ambitions.

*Tap Tap*

“Enter, filth,” I muttered, waving my hand to motion the enchanted door open.

“Misssttrisss,” the undead slurred as I raised my hand glowing with light.

“What is it, wretch?” I howled at the reanimated corpse, perhaps a maid from my childhood. Since, I had slaughtered the castle help and restored them as my minions. A bit drastic, maybe, but the end justified the means, I thought to myself.

“Tis the price paid for a good future,” I muttered to myself.

“Yeess,  misssttriss?” the maid slurred.

I slammed my knuckles against the corpse’s face.

“Quit that infuriating slurring, corpse!”

I felt the soul within the corpse hesitate at my violence; I had never struck one of my animations before, never once, unless the original murders counted, but I was doubtful the spirit would remember the death of a host.

“Fetch me the book,” I shrieked and the creature’s milky eyes showed fear as it turned to obey. “And ensure the rest of the animations speak properly as well,” I shouted. 

With the servant off to fetch the book, I had preparations to make. I flew through the room. I wove my fingers through my messy hair and it sparkled and obeyed, tracing my body with the same glowing fingers, as my nightgown transformed into a sleek ebony gown with silver beading.

Bringing myself to the mirror, I gazed into the pale violet eyes traced with red veins, another price of my actions. They were the sign of a killer, a raiser, and a powerful bloodmage. The teachers had warned me this power would mark me and they had not been wrong; the veins spread from my eyes and crept across my withering skin.

I was no longer the young-faced princess who entered this tower. I was more like a living corpse  as I withered with every moment my spells continued to drain me.

Surely it will end soon I thought, and heard a tapping at the door again.

“Enter, servant,” I spoke without care, looking into my mirror.

“Surely I’m more to you than a servant now, my lady,” a masculine, and very much alive, voice said.

I turned with a speed not even close to natural for the living. “Torial! I thought I informed you never to enter my chamber!”

He strode across the room with the false confidence of a scavenger thinking a predator wouldn’t miss a tiny bit of food.

Like a coyote attempting to steal from a dragon. I began to channel the energy within my blood as I grabbed his wrist, puncturing his thin flesh with my sharpened claws. Holding him against the wall as he struggled, I whispered into his ear, “If I catch you within these walls again, I will chain you to them and I will slice your veins one by one until not a drop of blood remains under this sickly skin.”

I paused, tracing my free hand across his wrists, “And I will make it hurt! If you should die before I have my pound of flesh I will do even more. I WILL restore you as one of those bloodsuckers, perhaps, and chain you up in the courtyard. And every day you will burn as you beg for the stake to pierce your heart. Still, even then I will find new ways day after day to make your very existence pain. Do you understand me, IMBECILE? ”

He squirmed and nodded as I released his hand, and ran from the room holding his wrist, blood pouring from the punctured skin. A pity to waste so much blood I thought, but a point had been made. He would not likely dare enter my presence again for some time.

*****

I gazed into my mirror for what seemed hours as I awaited the serving spirit to return, perhaps I would fetch it myself next time. The damned scripture was too valuable to be transporting it constantly in the hands of clearly incompetent servants.

As I began to turn to leave for the book chamber, the animation passed through the door in ghostly form.

“Cursed animation! I told you NEVER to fade with an item of such importance without my express consent!” I struck my hand at the smoke-like form and it solidified into tender flesh.

“Apologies, mistress. You requested I do fade to fetch it quickly only last week,” the servant mumbled, bowing at my feet begging for my forgiveness.

Interesting I thought, she had never displayed such intelligence as to manipulate loopholes in my orders before this. What could have caused this sudden behavior? I would need to consult the texts within my library; perhaps records lay there of previous incidents among the animations of the old ones.

I pried the precious book from the fragile fingers of the corpse and placed it upon the metal lectern. Upon my touch, the book glowed and pulsed with hunger, the cover flung open and the pages emptied themselves of ink. The book knew what I wanted and it knew I would pay the price. I drew the hidden needle from my sleeve and pricked my finger, squeezing the scarlet liquid upon the pages as it drank greedily.

Soon the words began to return this time in a crimson fashion, the power of the relic fueled by my ancestors’ blood.

Upon the darkest of days

Within the year of the serpent

A war be waged, by old ways

To vanquish the new and restore and repent

For each victory won, lives are spent

Currency minted fresh

A bloodmage born of royal flesh

Will find the shadow’s heir

Who walks the line of death

And this trial hers to bear

Will decide how all will fare

…

When sundered and undone

Thy darkness come

One hero will pay the price

Or cost a queen’s life

Two verses, each written in blood of my past, meant to warn of my future…unless I found this heir of shadows, who must surely be the hero it spoke of. The words begin to thin as they drifted like ink in the water and then faded, my blood is spent the books price been paid.

*Tap Tap*

“Enter,” I beckoned, looking to the door as a suit of armor entered.

“My lady, a prince has arrived. He has attacked the gate,” he spoke with unease.

I chuckled and my smile spread wide, “Then let us go and greet my rescuer. Sir Reginald find the necromancer, it’s time he served some use.”

*****

“Save me! Save me brave and noble prince,” I cried out from the wooden stage in the midst of the throne room. The ignorant noble ran quickly through the throne room without looking for danger.

“Not so fast, mortal!” Torial finally made his presence known, booming from the throne as he stood, now wearing the robes one would expect from a real and respectable wielder of the dark arcane. He thankfully followed the plan I had placed in his head and slammed his crude and twisted his metal staff into the floor, plunging the room into shadow.

No longer visible to the prince, I stood, shaking off the rusted shackles, cackling with joy. Finally, the wait was over and I could leave this dreadful place. I had found my supposed hero. I wove my hands through the air and let my magic fly.

First the prince fell into a slumber and I beckoned his body to float into my reach as I examined him. He was young surely or more time had passed then I thought, a pale skin covered in muscles. His hair was short and as ebony black as my own had once been.

I cast my arms out in front of me sending forth the tendrils of my dark power, but they did not puncture this man as they had others. My tendrils shifted and twisted around him, not one of shadows touched him, not for fear it seems, as the magic recoiled.

This is it, he’s here in front of me. A royal of shadows to play the part of the prophecy, perhaps there was hope yet.

“Well done Lady Felsair. It is an honor to be attacked by a woman of your… talent.”

I withdrew my power. He knows my name. Why by the hells does he know my name?

“I know because it is time for you to come home darling. You and I have a war to wage,” he chuckled, clasping his hands around a silver medallion.

“So you know my thoughts heir, interesting enough, but you will not enter my mind again with such tricks,” I snarled, bracing my mental barriers.

He raised his brow and a massive pain echoed through my head. Your mind is not your own Kalia, not anymore. Now it is MINE!

I fell to the cold floor, a massive weight pressing down from all sides. He commanded every fiber of my being and I hated it.

I WILL NOT SUBMIT, I shrieked in defiance.

But you will not resist either, not enough anyway… little dark princess I will enjoy the future we will share.

It was then that I knew I was in for a very different future than I thought…