It was late at night in the city of Cesa and all was quiet. High on the hill overlooking the city stood a massive mansion. The mansion housed the leaders of the family Capulet. Although on the outside it was peaceful, a stone sentinel watching over the city below, on the inside, it was a madhouse. Blood flowed through the hallways as soldiers stormed through the building, killing all in their way.
A young woman ran down one of the corridors. A small child was held closely to her chest. A baby girl, hardly a year old caught in the midst of the chaos. The woman stopped at a corner. Her breath came in ragged gasps and she could feel the child grabbing her shirt in confusion. She pushed the child’s hand away and held her head. Juliet, dearest Juliet. She thought as she looked into her eyes; they were filled with a sort of innocent confusion that the mother appreciated. God willing, she’ll never remember this. The woman sent a silent prayer to the heavens: that even should she die, her daughter would live on.
The woman braced herself and sprinted around the corner and down the hallway. The grand foyer was visible on the lower floor. Soldiers stormed across the marble, blood-soaked swords in hand. Somewhere below, Lady Capulet heard a maidservant shriek and the shouts of several soldiers. The maidservant’s voice was familiar to Lady Capulet, for it belonged to her handmaiden, Doris. She felt the lump in her throat grow as the realization truly hit her: the soldiers would spare no one. She had been watching when the visitor they had invited in slashed her husband’s throat. She had run to her daughter’s bedroom and taken her with. Now she wracked her brain for the location of the servant’s exit.
The kitchen. Unfortunately the kitchen was on the first floor, and that floor was actively being purged by the invaders. Lady Capulet hoped the Lord hadn’t already used His mercy for the day and prayed that she could safely reach the exit. She hurried down the staircase with no incident and found herself on the first floor. She took a deep breath the calm herself and looked around the corner. Take a left here. Just before she turned, she heard a scream and a maid came barreling down the hallway, a soldier in pursuit. He tackled her to the ground and pinned her there. Lady Capulet took advantage of the distraction to slip past him and down the left passage.
She made the mistake of looking back at the maid. She saw the maid’s eyes widened upon seeing her, but quickly realized it wasn’t because she saw her, but because of the fingers wrapped around her throat. The soldier straddled the maid and held her throat with both hands, slowly choking the life out of her. The maid began to raise a hand but her strength failed her. Lady Capulet could swear she saw the maid mouth “help me” before she fled, leaving the dying woman behind.
Not long later, Lady Capulet came across their butler, Edgar, just as he had a knife shoved through his heart. The blood spattered the wall as the murderer whipped the knife free. She stifled a scream and continued on her path.
She saw the kitchen door at the far end of the next hallway and opened it. However, in her haste, she did not notice the archer stationed to stop any from escaping. Silently, he drew back his bow and fired. Lady Capulet felt the arrow punch through her chest, the point slid right between her ribs and came out on the other side. The arrowhead’s blade scratched the young girl’s forehead as it exited, leaving a terrific mark.
The Lady, in a final act of defiance, pushed her daughter into the exit. It was a small ramp that slid far down and ended on a pile of sheets in the basement.
“You will not have her,” she said softly with the breath that remained. The archer filped her over and slide a knife across her throat. Adrenaline dulled the pain, but in a matter of seconds the world faded into blackness and cold, never to be lifted away.
****
Beneath the manor the child slid safely into the pile of laundry that waited below the chute's exit into the basement. The young girl screamed and kicked furiously. The sound drew the attention of an elderly gentleman clad in steel armor. He gently pulled the sheets away, exposing the baby’s face. It looked into his eyes, the screams stopped as it examined this mysterious newcomer.
“Don’t cry, little one,” the man said softly, picking the babe up and cradling it in his arms. He saw the cut on her forehead and hissed empathetically. “Good God, to do this to a child.” He turned around to face his comrades. They were not as well dressed as he, but shared his purpose. “Here she is. The last of her line. The daughter of Capulet.”
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Daughter of Capulet (On Hold)
Fantasy"Two households, both alike in dignity... in fair Verona, where we lay our scene." So goes the Shakespearean play of young love and tragedy. But this isn't Verona, and this isn't the classic that everyone knows. No, this is a tale of blood and fire...
