Chapter 3: The Setup

Anaya

The carriage halted suddenly. Anaya was thrown from her sleeping position into the carriage's wall, waking her.

"Jules, stay close to me" Anaya gripped her sister's hand to the point of breaking.

In a state of haze, the cart was opened, Anaya and the other villagers were pulled off the cart, and they were pushed into the rebel camp. It was a collection of half-pitched tents among the ruins of an old fort. The walls were still mostly intact, and all of the tents were places inside it. More warriors stood as lookouts on top of the walls.

"New prisoners." A guard from the wall spat down on them.

"Hope these last longer." A guard jeered and poked at them with his spear as they went by.

The camp was filthy; carcasses of animals lined the makeshift walkways. Tents were covered in blood and other fluids, and the entire enclosure smelled like a rotten farm. Fires were set up too close to tents, and a foggy haze filled every available airspace. Anaya blinked in the smoke and covered her nose with her hands as she was pushed from behind. She surged forward but looked around, trying her best to take in every piece of information. She had no intention of staying here too long.

"Where are they taking us?" Jules, her sister, whispered, but Anaya did not respond.

They were led to a half-sunken tower in the corner of the fort.The thick wooden doors were pulled open, and the village people were forced down the stairs and into the basement of the building. Another wooden door with bars was opened to reveal a tiny stone room. A few people were already down in the prison.Their faces were hollow, and their eyes were almost black with sorrow. The warrior, whos name she now knew was Vers, grabbed Anaya’s hands and roughly cut the chords from her wrists. She studied his face, hopeful that one day she would see it dead. She rubbed her arms and helped her mother and sister into the room. She looked to the single window far above the ground. When the rebel closed them in, the bars on the window shook, and she took note of it.

"All hope is lost," Anaya’s sister sunk to the ground in tears.

"Do not lose hope. We will find a way out." Her mother consoled her.

That night they slept close to each other. Anaya kept a tired eye on the door.

For the next five days, they worked around the camp nonstop. They did their best to stick together, but the other warriors noticed their affinity for each other and separated them. Every night they huddled together in their small room. Their mother would tell them stories of their village. Anaya felt as if she were listening to a fairy tale; her home was a place that never existed anywhere but in her mind. She was already growing thin. The food they were given was a meager amount; Anaya knew they would all be dead by winter. She had to find another solution, she had to escape.

"Which of you will go to the forest?" one of the rebels asked the next morning.

No one looked up from the hard dirt of the earth. Anaya could feel the rebels looking at them examining how they would work. Her strong arms from working on the farm gave her away as a helpful asset.

“You will be perfect.” The rebel who took her from her home pointed at her.

Anaya was unbound from the others, a few other strong girls were taken as well. She followed a small group out to the woods, where they were setting up tripwires. Anaya took this opportunity to learn everything she could from her captors.

“Get in line with the others.” She was pushed near some other prisoners.

They were given traps to burry, and she moved away form the other workers. She pulled the tripwire tightly. The rebels watched her moves closely. She felt the forest air around her as clear as ever, and she longed to lay on the ground and sleep. Anaya resisted the urge to sink into the forest. Instead, she listened to their plan.

"Do you think this will work?" A rebel tested the line with his finger.

"Our sources say the prince and princess will be coming this way on the way to the west." Vers nodded not helping with any of the work.

The west. Anaya perked up at this and scooted closer while still working on running the lines.

"No one has seen the princess' face. How will we know it's her?"

Vers handed the shorter rebel a sketch of a man.

"She will be traveling with her brother. This man is the one we are looking for."

The shorter rebel looked at the sketch and then crumpled the paper, throwing it into the forest.

"He looks just like his father," he muttered. "I used to work in the castle, and I hated seeing his spoiled face."

Anaya looked at the paper that was thrown at her feet. She kicked it with her foot till it was out of sight under the bush she was working near. After a few minutes, she retrieved it, tucking it into her sleeve. It wasn't until they finished working and she was back in the prison that she dared to look at it. By moonlight, she peered at the sketch of the prince. He took her breath away. His dark eyes glowed off the parchment, and she felt as if she had seen him before. She searched her memory of Dermnith but only remembered that the king had sent away his son years ago. Had he returned?

She felt a guilty stab in her heart. If she was to have any chance of escaping, the princess would have to be captured. Then at least, she could hope for a rescue party. This prince was the answer, and when she looked at the paper, she felt more and more hopeful about her situation. She folded it, placed it under her head, and laid down again to sleep.

Anaya waded through the mist. She had a vague memory of being in this place before. As she moved forward, it felt like she was trying to move through water. Although she didn’t feel afraid, she knew she wasn’t safe either. Something was pulling her forward, and she couldn't help but press on. She ducked under a fallen log and noticed a clearing a short way from her that was void of mist. When she reached the circle's edge, she found that she could not go any further.

At first, the center of the clearing appeared to be nothing, but then her eyes shifted, and she saw a dark figure standing in the center. He seemed confused and alone. He was big, taller than any person should be.

"Hello?" Anaya tried to call him, but she couldn't hear the words when she opened her mouth.

No sound escape. The figure turned to her, and she felt her eyes begin to water. The shadow shifted into the shape of a man. She could not place his face, but his eyes were an undeniable blue. He shifted back to a shadow before she could get a good look and seemed stuck there for a moment before becoming human again.

She tried to study his features, and she wanted to reach forward and take his face in her hands. She wanted to protect him; she wanted him to protect her. If only she could remember where his eyes were from. The man reached forward, and she struggled to get through her invisible barrier. She felt his fingertips on her skin, but then he changed, and she felt soft feathers on her arm.

Anaya woke to the first rays of morning. The paper she had stolen from the guards was glued to her face with sweat. She peeled it off and gazed at the portrait once again. She looked at the eyes her dream fading like sand from her mind . She touched her arm where she had felt something in her dream. A warm touch maybe, she didn't remember. She found comfort in it and stayed there thinking of him until the sun rose fully.