A/N: I'm bad I know. I started another fic without updating my others. At a really bad writer's block and thought a fresh, new idea would help me get back on track with my writing. Hopefully it works. So enjoy this story for the time being! A light warning, this story will get a tad dark later on. So if you're not fond of darker undertones, don't read. Otherwise, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Don't own Mai HiME.
Wayfarer's Dawn
Prologue
By decree of the Royal Eminence, a new law shall be put into play.
It has come to the High Council's attention that several revolts have taken place in Windbloom's countryside. This is unacceptable and shall be dealt with accordingly. Any rebels are to be brought in by local guards immediately. Should the situation get out of hand, the Council will not hesitate to take action.
Those found by light cases shall be heeded only a warning. However, those who so wish to act direly shall be imprisoned. Those found not only participating in these rebellions, but leading them shall be sent to Alahell Prison.
Make no mistake, her Highness nor will her Council tolerate traitors.
- The Royal Guard
- - -
She was staring at the flames by the time the screaming stopped, the sound of desperation long fading into silence. Sweat bathed her forehead in tiny droplets, trickling down the bridge of her nose and dotting her upper lip. It ran past her chin and down her neck, staining the prim dark gray suit.
Her horse snuffed, stamping the ground irritably and glared at the flames, his own coat darkened with sweat. She could feel his nervousness through the tautness of his back, the arch of his neck, and the rigidity of his shoulders. Chie would've moved him farther from the heat had she not been captivated, gazing into its bright orange-red flames leaping into the sky.
Distantly she heard the sound of someone calling her name and looked away from the fire at the sound of beating hooves.
"Captain! Captain Hallard!"
Her eyes flickered into focus, centering on the foggy shape of a steed running toward her. Chie lifted her chin to show she'd heard and watched as the man atop the horse huffed, brown eyes as wild as his steed's were as he glanced around warily before speaking.
"Captain, all the townspeople have been evacuated. Your unit stands at attention Captain. We're awaiting orders to head out."
He saluted, straightening his posture as his hand touched the brim of his gray hat. Chie nodded slowly, eyes glazing over once more as she turned back to the fire and spoke, "Is that so? Well, my orders are given. We head out tonight, back to the capital."
"Yes Captain!"
"Tell the others. I'll be with you in a moment."
"But Captain –"
"Go! I said I'll be with you in a moment," she growled, eyes hardening as she looked at the soldier. He sputtered and nodded, kicking his steed into motion and turning to race back into the shadows.
She watched him for a moment as his shape blended into the blackness of the night. When she was sure he'd gone, she kicked her horse softly and tugged him toward the flames. The chestnut horse snorted, ears flattening and stamping one hoof in disagreement, but he plodded forward.
She crossed into the flaming streets, feeling the heat grow around her. The smoke clouded above her head, squeezing at her lungs, but she paid it no mind. She gazed back and forth, watching bright colors dance back and forth.
What are you doing Highness? Why are you making me do this?
She stopped her steed with a cluck, dismounting and padding forward a few paces. Chie stared at the burning houses, surrounding her like boxes lit aflame, in neat rows, going on into the night as smoke turned inky-blue ashen-gray. She heaved a sigh and bent, picking up a lit piece of wood.
Chie lifted it over her head and threw it in one swift motion at a house nearby. She watched it spring to life, fire grasping the house like open jaws on prey. It swayed and dropped, leaping and swirling as it covered the house in shades of red, orange, yellow, and a tint of purple.
She wasn't aware just how long she'd been there until something touched her arm. Started, Chie glanced over her shoulder and saw the previous soldier's brown eyes staring at her. They glimmered with fear and exhaustion, flicking from her to the flames. She could feel his fingers trembling on her shoulder and Chie fought the urge to smack him, teeth grating against themselves as she glanced at the fire.
"Captain, we should really go now. The soldiers have been waiting," he pleaded, licking his lips nervously as he eyed the flames.
"Of course." Chie nodded at him, but made no move to walk away. She stared at the burning house for a moment longer, feeling the heat press against the skin unprotected by her uniform. The light of it made the golden buttons on her uniform glow, she noticed.
Finally, she allowed the soldier to pull her away, still staring. Her steed snorted; worry in his eyes, but not for her. She mounted him again and clucked, turning him away from the fire. The soldier by her side hissed as a spring of flame leaped at them. They lit his face in a flash of color and Chie suddenly noticed how young he looked. He couldn't have been more than nineteen.
Morosely she kicked her horse into motion. The two horses swept through the streets, gait rushed and jerky as if they expected the fire to launch at their tails. Chie let her horse carry her through the flames, hands loosely grasping the reins. The acrid stench of smoke tickled her nose. The heat lessened, replaced by chilly night air as they rushed out of the village.
She almost jerked her horse into a rear, straightening involuntarily when hundreds of eyes turned to her, gleaming yellow in the dark.
Chie sucked in her breath and turned to the soldier.
He shrugged, half-sheepish and half-frightened as he mumbled to her, "The villagers Captain. They've nowhere to go…"
She gazed at them, by the hundreds, all staring at her. Faces, so many faces, laden with grief and anger, to the point of hatred; she sucked in her breath. Chie shivered in the night air and stared back at the burning village. The flames weren't dying just yet, but they had lessened.
She clutched her reins, fiddled with a gold button on her shirt, swept one hand uneasily over her brow and finally said, wearily, "There's a refugee camp. Not far from here. We can take them there."
The soldier said nothing, merely nodded and clucked his steed forward. He shouted something to the group of men, saddled and wary, but she wasn't clear on the words.
She didn't move until the last townsperson had, still mounted on her steed, still staring at the fire.
Oh, my Queen, what have you done?
What have I done?
Reluctantly, she plodded after the mass; head half-bowed and grateful for the night, for it hid the shame in her eyes.
- - -
She awoke to the smell of rotting wood and dust, startled when the carriage hit a bump in the road. Her eyes strained in the dark, snuffing at the dust collecting under her nose. Absentmindedly she brushed her hands against her tunic, trying with little success to rid herself of the grime on her shirt. Uncomfortable she leant back and listened to the sound of the wheels grating and turning.
A horse's snort sounded from outside and she tilted her head, ears straining. Hooves pounded the trail, matching the beat of her restless heart. It beat against her ribcage, the roaring of her blood matching its tune. She gritted her teeth as once against the carriage jumped, horses neighing and a man's call shouting irritably.
In the single window where moonlight splashed from and lit the floor, she stared at the night. The young girl rubbed uncomfortably at her arms, the fine hairs on her skin rising uneasily as she gazed at a full white moon. Something about the still air outside made her insides churn, her heart speed up and her breath catch.
Where am I?
How long had she been traveling? Days? Weeks? Possibly even months? The only thing she could recall were the horses' restless stamping and their master's brutal shouts.
Tucking her chin into her tunic, knees bent in front of her chest, the girl continued to sit miserably in the carriage. She hoped against dear hope that her brother, wherever he was right now, was safe.
She deserved that much. She wanted that much.
- - -
It was early morning when she awoke next, to the sound of wheels halting.
The horses snorted and abruptly stopped, skirting against dirt and gravel. The back of her head collided with the wall, a squeak uttering from her lips. Confused, she scrambled from her curled position and crawled to the window.
The sky was pale blue, the slightest tint of gray with a pale white sun bearing down hotly. She flinched, eyes pained by its light and snuck back into the dark of the carriage. At the sound of feet crunching on the gravel though, the captive froze.
Boots crunched forward, swaying toward the carriage's door. She stared at the small window, eyes fixated on the brass knob and waiting. Biting her lips, she listened to her racing blood and watched the knob turn slowly, as if time was bating its breath.
A man's shadow appeared in the doorway, blocking her eyes to the light after just a moment of it. She stepped back, side pressing against the wood. Sweat dotted her brow as she heaved, watching the bulk of tall flesh move from side to side, unbalanced as if some ill feeling overcame the man.
Brown eyes, hazy and bewildered gazed at the girl. The man's face was bathed in sweat as well, more so than his captive as he heaved. The skin of his bare arms was sickly pale, but his face was brightly flushed. He sniffed and coughed, body leaning dangerously forward.
She stepped back, hissing as his hand moved to grab her. She swatted at him and he growled, muttering incorrigibly as he took a step into the small compartment.
"Don't touch me!" she spat as he once again moved to grab her.
She ducked, watching as he toppled over and half-hit the wall, half-hit the floor. The man groaned and rolled his eyes to her, face twisted in anger as he growled, "Listen here y-you…you tramp! We'll have none of this iffy b-…business so you just be still and come with me!"
He hiccupped, so obviously drunk that it made her lips curl in disgust. A moist palm snagged her elbow and she bit back a yelp, shuddering as he dragged her from the carriage. She kicked at him, foot hitting the back of his knees.
The force of it brought him bowling over, hand still attached to her elbow and they crashed to the gravel. A loud curse erupted from the man's lips as his face kissed soil. He wobbled up, beady eyes ablaze at the girl. Mercilessly, he thrust one arm at her and brought her up by the hair, bringing forth a shriek.
The drunkard grinned, lips in a malicious smirk as he waved her body by the hair. She screwed her eyes tight, moisture brimming on the rim of them. Chortling, he fiddled with her hair and eyed her bright red locks. They gleamed dully, lackluster from days without proper treatment. Hypnotized, both by her bright hair and the alcohol consuming his senses, he hiccupped and swayed.
She hissed at the stench of alcohol, wrenching her face away from his face and gagging softly. He grinned at this and tugged her along, still clasping her hair.
The redhead twisted her head and looked back at the carriage mournfully, bare feet aching as tiny rocks scratched the undersides. Two horses, as dirty as she, looked over at her and flicked their ears. She stared at their abysmal brown eyes, which seemed to gaze at her almost sorrowfully.
The man tugged at her hair harder and she bit her tongue to bite back a pained yelp before trudging faster. Looking into the horizon, she saw what might have been his destination.
An ominous fortress towered in the distance, stone towers looming toward a pale blue-gray sky. Her eyes watered, whether from the pain on her scalp or the fear that sank her stomach, she wasn't sure. The only coherent thought that she could form in her mind was the name of the fortress.
It wavered in her mind like a blue flame of a candle, swaying back and forth. She stared hazily at it, vaguely hearing the crunch crunch of the man's boots on the gravel. Even several feet away she heard the distinct sound of metal on metal, chains slinking across the ground, hitting against each other softly; clink. Murmurs of voices, misery thick in their tones, wafting like smog; she exhaled.
The man towed her along like a calf refusing to be moved forward, shoulders hunched to her ears and legs stiff and heavy. The gates opened, iron and tall and looming, into an open gray yard; she saw nothing but gray for almost miles she swore.
Gray on gray, the sight of dull, dead eyes slowly gazing toward her sent a chill down her spine.
The prisoners stopped. The man stopped. She did too.
She wasn't aware of when the chains came, nor how they came. She only remembered seeing hands bustle her forward, toward the fortress and suddenly there was metal wrapped around her wrists, a chain trapped in the drunk's hands. He grinned widely, eyes narrowed.
She followed him into the fortress, wondering if digging her heels into the stone floor would do her any good.
Whooping, catcalling, wolf whistles and cheers met her ears the instant she crossed inside. She tilted her head up and stared at nothing, but blackness. The ceiling was high, high enough where she couldn't see. Hundreds, thousands of eyes turned to her and glinted, fixated on her form as she walked. Hands, pale and thin, grabbed at her and she sneered, squirming away.
Someone whistled to her, laughed when she turned away uncomfortably.
"Don't worry lass. They don't bite. Usually." The man grinned at her and smirked, laughing when she scowled.
Stone, stone everywhere. The tiny rooms around her couldn't be called cells. It was absurd to call them tiny rooms in the first place. They were more like boxes, three stone walls and one iron-barred front. High enough where a person could sit without too much discomfort, long enough where they could lay and stretch, but that was all.
And they were all stacked together, in one large, long room. No stairs, no upper floors, no lower floors even. Just stacked, stone boxes.
Her stomach churned.
A coarse, harsh laughter echoed and the prisoners took it up. They cackled and rang against the bars, whooping at her like mad hyenas.
The drunk swayed, dizzy by the echoes and flicked a key, opening a cell thankfully on the floor's base. She watched the bars swing, trying not to wince as they creaked.
He smirked at her and tugged the chains, shoved her into the 'cell' before she could even put up a fight. Back met stone and she hissed, hearing the slamming of iron bars.
She pressed herself against the bars, a drop of sweat trickling past her brow. She watched her captor hiccup and walk away, giving a cackle once or twice as hands thrust out of their cages and swiped at him, shouts rising all above.
She almost jumped out of her skin when a raspy, deep voice spoke.
"New prey?"
The girl whirled, keeping her gasp locked tight at the back of her throat.
Two eyes, bright green and hard, stared back.
"What's your name kid?"
The patronized nickname brought her out of her dizziness, eyebrows dipped in a frown as she spoke for what felt like the first time in years.
"I'm not a kid."
"But your name?"
She squirmed back, pressing against the bars again.
"Mai… Tokiha Mai…"
The green eyes seemed to grow harder, an almost wicked gleam in their depths.
"Well then Tokiha Mai, welcome to Hell. Alahell Prison that is."
Mai curled her lip, the dizziness returning, and with it nausea. She choked and felt tears at the back of her eyes. Her throat jumped with spasms, body convulsing as it finally released a rush of what she swore were her innards.
A soft cackle sounded behind her and Mai turned, shaky with illness. The green eyes were amused and this time something shifted; a shadow of a person.
"Aren't we fresh meat?"
Mai glared and the person cackled once more, even softer this time.
"I didn't hear your name."
"I didn't give it," they replied.
Mai waited and she narrowed her eyes more so at what appeared to be a white grin.
Wicked.
The grin, as if knowing her thoughts, grew. White teeth, too white for a place like this. Her cellmate leant back into the shadows before responding, "Kuga. Kuga Natsuki."
"Kuga it is then…"
"Natsuki is fine," the woman grinned again, in a twisted fashion Mai wasn't quite fond of.
"Natsuki then…"
Natsuki laughed, half-cackle half-not, and Mai turned and retched once more.
This only made her cellmate laugh harder.
Certainly, certainly this must have been Hell.
A/N: And that's the end of it. I did say it was going to be dark. Hopefully, that won't deter you guys too much. x: