First Chapter
A Time long since the break of devastation,
The world tilting on the brink of collapse.
Sabiya speaks…
I planned to escape from home in order to look in a mirror and smile at the girl I saw. This way everything I owned would be mine and not my father’s. It’s that kind of happiness I’ve waited for my entire life.
The outlaw grabbed my arm. He threw me over the saddle and put his filthy hand over my mouth. I can still taste it, the sweat and dirt, the gritty grains of sand. He hit me across the cheek then and told me to shut up. I was too scared to try to get off the horse.
He brought me here. He bound me and threw me in the corner. The outlaws called me names and spit on me.
I was supposed to escape from my captivity, not find a new one.
Sabiya
The outlaw bared his broken teeth at Sabiya, the gaps between them black and horrendous. She squeezed her eyes shut, wincing as the whip snapped close to her head, and shrank into the sand, the edge of the tent brushing against her naked arm. Death would come soon. Please, it should be fast, painless. Her captor’s hand closed over her chin, his thumb pressing into her jaw to force her mouth open. She caught a putrid wave of air that burned her nostrils: alcohol and sweat, mixed with urine; no incense like at home, no cinnamon or dried apples in a porcelain bowl sitting on the windowsill. Gone, all disappeared from her life.
Wind whipped between the tents.
“Open yer eyes,” he snarled, “or it’ll be yer turn next.” The filth of his fingers smudged her skin. She opened her eyes to his face, scarred and dark. Stubble crawled across his chin toward his ears and crept across his thick neck. Shadows from the firelight danced across his wrinkled brow.
She’d never see her family again, never go free. Thick ropes rubbed against her skin to reopen wounds and heat made her skin slippery. If she let herself dwell on hopelessness, she would sob. They didn’t deserve her tears.
“Fancy lil’ noble bitch,” her captor said. “It’s yer ’ead we’ll take, send it back to yer fancy lil’ noble pricks. How’s that sound, bitch?”
He laughed and in the crowd of onlookers, hoots ensued that made her ears burn. A boy, tied to a pole in the center of the tent, yelped as whips cracked against his skin. This game of torture the outlaws played with their captured victims…the outlaws enjoyed it too much. She pulled against her bonds, gasping. If the Daughter of Darkness had mercy, all would vanish and Sabiya would be back in her bed, in her room, safe.
“My brother’s going to come. He’s going to save us.” The boy’s words echoed through her mind to drown out the sadistic laughter. She lifted her gaze to the bloodied face of her captor, blood that belonged to the boy.
The Daughter of Darkness didn’t care about them.
Uthias
Uthias stood in his saddle while he stroked his horse’s neck. A desert wolf howled, echoed by another farther off, their cries mingling with the wailings of the dead. A shiver crept across his skin as though invisible fingernails stroked his tanned flesh. Would his soul be someday led to the sand dunes, left to mourn with the rest of them?
