Bride of the Dark Lord

#1 The Sacrifice

FIRST MONTH

Armalith Kingdom

Xemein (19 years old)

When I was a little girl, I always thought that when the day comes for me to marry, that I would be as happy as some of the brides I had seen. That my face would glow like theirs. And that on every line of my cheeks, happiness would radiate; joy would fill it. That was my thought. What I believed. And my father let me think so too.

But the thing about life is, is that it surprises us. Stuns us. Proving to us mortals that we aren't in control of it, instead, it controls us.

About ten years ago, I witnessed a wedding ceremony for the first time, and now, since, I'm about to be wedded in less than a day, I can boldly say that dreams don't often come true. That the desires that envelope our young hearts could just be crushed, as easily as an egg in the palm of a toddler. 'Cause now, my face isn't glowing and neither are the lines of my cheeks radiating joy and happiness.

"Please lift your chin, my lady" my maid servant, Isolda, a busty female in her twenties said as she applied the grounded powder particles to areas right below my jaw.

"I'll be done soon" she said.

I kept quiet. Wishing I could tell her to let me be alone. To not bother dressing me up at all, as I didn't want this wedding. Didn't want to be joined to a man I've never met. Didn't want to have to share the same bed with a man half the world feared.

The Dark Lord.

The only living being to possess a dragon.

A man born with a rare colour of hair - silver, and when lightning filled the skies, compounding his lightning abilities, many said, his hair blazed white, absorbing the streaks of lightning along with the rest of his body.

More so, this Gift of his was so powerful, that it was said that a touch of his bare hand against someone's flesh, was enough to electrocute that person. Causing instant death. Hence, as a result of this, he always wore hand gloves.

My left hand went to my neck. My bride collar. Another constant reminder of everything I would lose if I failed my mission in this marriage.

Cold chills ran down my spine.

The things I've heard about Him.

Like every Armalith royal, he possessed fish lungs. Making Him beyond able to spend six or more hours beneath water. What did that mean? Fat goose bumps lined my arms. That whether on land or in water, my to - be - husband was indestructible? A god capable of turning any environment into a death zone for his enemies?

A tale about one of the many battles he had fought in was still continuously repeated by every storyteller on the streets of Armalith.

It was said that during the Analican war (the war that gave Him his infamous nickname). The Dark Lord and his army pursued a thousand men into the Elden river.

His enemies stood in the shallow water, while he and his army stood at the Elden riverbank. The Dark Lord came down from his horse, deflecting the several arrows his foes fired at him with his sword and shield, and then, his feet made contact with the Elden.

He crouched, removed his glove and placed his bare hand in the river.

The horror of what happened next, is still narrated till this day. And used by mothers to frighten disobedient children into obedience as they threaten them with words of inviting the Dark Lord.

Many of the soldiers (from the Dark Lord's army) who witnessed that infamous historical incident were later reported to have been in shock for weeks. A few of them who weren't as tough as others had nightmares about that day for months and finally, some of them left the army, with their minds scarred for life.