Prisoners Of War

Spring, 1170 AV

Blackthorn Reach, Borderland of the Kingdom of Caelthywn

Being the only pampered and educated daughter of Lord Gerald Alaric Reinhardt, Lady Karina Hyacinth Reinhardt had never come to know nor experience the horrors of war.

Not until now.

Her father was now nearing the age of retirement after years of servitude to the Mooneveil Keep. Thus, Lady Karina, being the heiress of the Reinhardt bloodline, was due to succeed him that spring morning.

And although Moonveil had kept its peace and freedom from war over the years, such privilege would not bless them forever.

Not when the most feared and brutal conqueror of the North had come to lay siege and claim Moonveil Keep, adding it to his trophy castles across the land.

However, much like other nations across the land that each specialised in different magical abilities, Moonveil possessed its own secrets.

Magic, as the world of Ethuaria knew it, came from the markings specific to each bloodline and nation that a person may or may not have been born with.

It would appear at birth on different parts of the child's body, bringing about unique abilities passed down in their bloodline from mother to child.

Yes. Magic in this world was gifted by one's mother if the fates wished it so.

Yet not all were fortunate to receive that gift.

Only some. While others remained ordinary.

And now for holding secrets the Northern Conqueror wanted to possess, Lady Karina and her father were forced to their knees in the great hall of the Moonveil Keep that had once belonged to them in days of peace.

"Father…" Lady Karina whispered to the greying-haired man beside her, clad in the last tatters of his old chain-mail armour, now crusted with blood. 

Sir Gerald closed his eyes bitterly upon hearing the despair in his beloved daughter's voice.

He wanted nothing more than to break free of his bounds and rush to her side to gather her into his arms.

Unfortunately, he would be jeopardising any chances of survival for both of them if he did so.

"Hush, my lamb chop..." Sir Gerald murmured back, slowly shaking his head to warn his daughter against speaking out in the presence of the enemy around them.

Yet it was too late.

One of the enemy knights had already been alerted by their brief chatter and stormed his way towards Lady Karina.

The dirty blonde knight gripped Lady Karina by her hair, strands of spun gold clutched in his stained mail glove.

Strangely enough, he did not make use of whatever ill-bearing abilities he might have possessed. She could tell it was something dark by the unusual marking on his forehead.

Lady Karina yelped, recognising the knight from earlier when she had tried to bite him after he'd dragged her down to the great hall alongside her father. 

Perhaps that was why he held her so tightly this time.

"I dare you to speak again, wench," the knight growled warningly and Lady Karina immediately fell silent, although irked by his disrespect.

Sir Gerald could do no better than grind his teeth silently, lest he speak out of turn and risk a harsher punishment on his daughter.

Lady Karina was trapped.

From the corner of her eye, she could see her father on his knees. 

She couldn't see his face, nor tell what expression he showed.

There was a great deal of movement around them.

Lady Karina could hear men barking orders as the screams of her people eventually faded.

Now she could only wonder and anticipate what horrors Van Merikh had in store for her and her father.

She didn't have to wait long.

With her face nearly being shoved into the stone, she heard a deep, rumbling voice.

"Your name, knight."

Lady Karina's father answered without hesitation, priding himself on years of battle-earned bravery as he spoke.

"Sir Gerald Alaric Reinhardt," came her father's firm introduction.

"You are the commander of Moonveil, are you not?" The deep voice rumbled again.

"I am."

"And the girl?"

"My daughter, the Lady Karina Hyacinth Reinhardt."

The silence that filled the air soon after was replaced with anxiety.

Lady Karina could hear bootfalls all around her, though it was difficult to tell just how many men had surrounded them.

Each one bore their own kind of marking, differing from the next, so it was no secret that they were men from distant lands united under the banners of Van Merikh.

They reeked of death and something sinister.

"Release her," Lady Karina heard the voice utter a command that left no room for disobedience.

Immediately, the rough, dirty, gloved hand in her hair was removed and she stiffly lifted her head, already feeling the aches in her neck.

Several unfriendly faces with no signs of mercy were glaring down at Lady Karina, some from behind raised visors, some from helmless men.

There were six in all, three knights and at least three soldiers.

There could have been more standing behind her that she did not sense or see, but for now, six were enough.

The knight to her right spoke.

"How old are you, girl?" His gruff tone sounded as he posed the question.

Lady Karina swallowed; her mouth was so dry that there was nothing left to swallow and she very nearly ended up choking.

"I have seen eighteen years, my Lord," she answered, mimicking the same confidence of her father's tone in her answer.

The knight shifted on his heels and moved in front of her; Lady Karina's emerald green eyes dared to gaze up at him, noting a rather youngish warrior with a few days' growth of beard and close-shorn blonde hair.

Surprisingly enough, he didn't look as frightening as she had imagined, but she knew if the man was sworn to Van Merikh, then he must be horrible indeed.

A nightmare to children, much like the lawless conqueror he served.

"Does your husband serve Moonveil?" He asked, his deep voice somewhat quieter than before.

"I am not married, my Lord."

The knight simply nodded.

So much for the long-awaited succession ceremony she was to undergo this morning, but it seemed fate had other plans in mind.

Now, Moonveil was their prison as enemy soldiers overran the tunnels and hallways, bringing bloodshed where they set foot.

There were memories of warmth and laughter embedded in the old stone walls, now lost by the fear that filled the hall. 

Moonveil Castle had been breached before midnight when Van Merikh's army had tunnelled under the northeast tower of the wall, causing it to collapse.

Even then, those barbarians did not engage in magical warfare and why had they not?

No one knew.

Lady Karina and her father had tried to escape, along with the people of their castle, but Van Merikh's men had swarmed their escape routes like relentless locusts.

It was over before it had even begun.

Around her, Lady Karina could hear the cries of her people as Van Merikh's men captured them without mercy.

She herself had been captured by an enormous knight with blood splashed onto his plate armour, showing fear for the first time as she had known it in her life that morning.

For tales of Van Merikh's atrocities were well known in the notorious north of the land, for it was a dark and outlawed time.

She knew they were about to enter Hell.