The Spark

I was gliding through a deep midnight sky, the stars twinkling above and below me. The world was asleep, or I thought it was. Suddenly, a crossbow bolt flew from the sky and hit my chest with a solid thunk. I stared at it, dumbstruck. I fell back into the depths of the inky black sky, letting out a blood curdling screech.

The twinkling of the stars disappeared and were replaced by the soft glow of burning candles. Where was I? I let out a sigh of relief as I realized I was in my bedroom, sitting bolt upright in my bed, panting. My night gown was soaked through.

I heard grumbling and clanging from the other side of the room. My head snapped in that direction, my eyes widening with fear. My reflexes told me I was still in my nightmare.

It was my sister, mumbling and grumbling about a rooster as she shuffled out the door, scratching her blonde head. The air that I held in my lungs was let out in a great whoosh. Slumping back on my pillow I tried to reassure myself that it was only a dream.

I felt completely trepid, but that feeling was soon overcome by frustration. Here I sat on the brink of something big, but I felt so far away, like I need my father’s magnifier just to see the edge of it, burning brightly like the rising sun.

I was jolted from my reverie by my mother, who popped her head in and told me to hurry up and change out of my nightclothes.

“Something decent,” she said. So I hastily put my room into some kind of order while I yanked on my favorite outfit. Black tunic, leggings and worn leather boots. I grabbed my sword belt, strapped it on, and stuck my staff in it, yanking my pack on my shoulder; I practically sprinted to the great room.

My mother caught sight of me and groaned.

“I meant a dress Ariana, a dress is decent. This,” she gestured at me, “is not,”

“You just gestured at all of me.” I pointed out.

“Exactly, but don’t worry your pretty little head about it, my dear.” She handed me a plate loaded with food. Then she stood behind me and braided my deep brown hair with nimble fingers. I could hear Katlyn, my older sister chuckling in the corner. She is always the perfect child, I thought venomously.

“Why don’t you be like Katlyn? Why don’t you want to get married and find your soulmate like my sweet little Katlyn, Ariana?” Those questions my father constantly asked of me bounced around in my skull. I could never rid myself of them or the constant guilt of not being able to fulfill my father’s wishes.

As I choked down burnt toast and scorched eggs, a dark form pushed on the door, which glided open on well-oiled hinges. The dark form did not cross the threshold, but stood there, in the doorway, taking in the fire and the women around it. This figure was not the short, stocky form of my father, but a tall, cloaked figure.

Gazing at the figure, taking it in, I plucked up the courage to look it in its blood-red eyes to say, “What do you want?” I sounded a lot more courageous than I felt.

A single rasping word slipped from under the cloak.

“You.”

I began to get lost in the crimson depths of the creature’s eyes. I heard my mother’s shrill scream of “Ariana!” as the fire went out with a hiss. I stumbled from the faintly glowing ember, tripping over the wooden plate that had fallen upon the floor.

Instead of falling on the floor, I toppled into oblivion.
I woke in the woods, lying on my back. The first thing I did was panic. Air left my lungs in short gasps and I immediately assumed the worst. Amidst my panic I realized my hands were not bound, I began to laugh and stand up, only to find myself face to face with a grotesque creature.

It did not take me long to realize that this creature was my enemy. This... thing was covered in a writhing substance that slithered like snakes across the figure of what once was a man. Under the slime there was a familiar face.

I was face to face with my father.

The sparkling eyes were stained red and the smiling mouth twisted into an unfamiliar twist of hatred. I screamed and stumbled back, surprised by the creature my father had become. The creature smiled at my dismay, revealing rows of dagger-like teeth that glinted in the sunlight.

I slowly backed away from the creature, dragging myself back, trying in vain to escape those dangerous fangs. I fell back onto the damp leaves that carpeted the forest floor. The creature took advantage of this and leaped five meters into the air, changing into an oversized wolf in the air. It landed heavily on the ground and stalked across the damp ground. I blinked and the creature was beside me with his dangerous maw opened. The razor sharp teeth sunk into the flesh of my left leg. I let out a scream straight from the Lord of Death himself.
Images flashed before my eyes. Myself, with shorter hair that was ruffled by the wind. Myself, tensing, then jumping from the edge of the cliff. A man, standing where I once stood, sinking to his knees and yelling “Melontha!” into the abyss. Myself, falling into an eternal blackness.

Before I blacked out I caught a glimpse of a star, a small inferno, standing out in the night sky.

My eyelids flickered open; the sunlight scorched my eyes, causing stars to dance in front of them. I decided to keep them shut in order to prevent permanent damage.

I gathered a small amount of information about my surroundings. I was upright in a cart that bounced and jostled when it hit every bump and pebble. The constant movement caused the contents of the cart (myself and some foul smelling boxes, even though I’m pretty sure I felt just as foul as the boxes) to bounce half a meter in the air. My hands were bound by a rough rope. The harsh fibers dug into my wrists and very time the cart bounced, my arms moved, causing another series of scratches and cuts across my wrists. The cart reeked of human waste and wine.

All I can do now is hope that this is all a dream, a very, very bad dream.

My slim chance of hope was shattered when the cart came to an abrupt stop. I was yanked out of the cart and dumped onto the ground. I tried to rise from a heap, but I was not able to. I only got a glimpse of my bonds before a sack was yanked on my head. They were stained crimson.
With the hood upon my head, I was dragged across the ground toward what I assumed was the Omperar’s castle. It is said to be made of black bricks. The black bricks are supposed to be made of the bones and ashes of his enemies. All thoughts of legends and ladies' gossip were driven from my head as my bonds were yanked in the wrong direction. My wrist broke with an audible SNAP!

I did what a normal person does in this situation: I screamed. That single pure note that escaped my lips was rewarded by several good thumps about my head. I had soon forgotten the pain and everything else that happened to be occurring at the current moment.