When Xian Lang opened her eyes, she was struck by how dim everything was. Night had fallen. Disoriented she looked around her, taking in the rough stone walls surrounding her. Craning her neck she gazed out the small window above her head. It was only about the size of a small saucer, too small to escape from.
Everything came rushing back.
The hoof beat thunder, the door, the imperial soldiers and the sword. She fingered the new bump on her forehead. How long had she been unconscious?
Pushing herself up she let out a low moan. Her muscles ached from laying in the damp earth for so long. Shaking out her arms she stood. Footsteps echoed nearby. A fresh wave of fear struck Xian Lang. Were they coming for her?
As if to answer her, the large wooden door behind her creaked open and and the man with the face of scars stepped in.
"Good. You are conscious. I was just about to wake you." He glanced disdainfully at her, gesturing to the pail of water in his other hand.
Xian Lang curled her lip, glaring daggers at him.
Smirking the man advanced toward her, pail held threateningly in front of him. "Perhaps I should douse you anyway. You stink." He growled.
Taking a step back, Xian Lang eyed the pail. The surface of the water was thick with scum. It smelled like rotting fish.
"If I were you, I would put the pail down." Xian Lang lifted her eyes to meet his. "You do not want to make me angry." She was delighted see the man's eyes widen ever so slightly.
"No. You must not anger me witch." He glared at her, all traces of fear vanishing. "The Emperor will not take kindly to you threatening his soldiers." Glancing over his shoulder at the door, he suddenly turned and lunged at her, taking hold of her hair. "Don't resist, or more trouble will come to you." He growled as he wrestled Xian Lang to the floor, binding her hands with a length of rope he had pulled from his shirt.
Mouth pressed into the dirt Xian Lang fought to breathe. Waves of panic crashed over her as fought against the crushing weight of the soldier.
After what seemed to be an eternity, but must have only been minutes, the man drew back and hauled her to her feet. Her wrists ached where the rope chafed against the red rings imprinted on her skin from the chains which had restrained her earlier.
"The Emperor will see you now, Witch." The man said.
She had originally guessed that this was the reason why the soldier had come to wake her, but despite steeling herself for this moment, she still broke out in a cold sweat.
Deep down, since her abilities had first emerged, she had known this would happen. That it would only be a matter of time before her luck ran out, however she still fought as hard as she could against the scar faced man, as he dragged her out of the stone holding room where she was immediately descended upon by two younger soldiers. The shorter one taking hold of her other arm, and the taller propelling her from behind.
As she was marched down the narrow prison corridor, dotted here and there with holding cells much like the one she had been kept in, Xian Lang inhaled deeply, trying to keep the tears at bay. It absolutely would not do to appear weak in front of these men.
Time seemed to bend, stretching out so that minutes felt like hours, and hours, years. Finally, at long last, to Xian Lang's relief and despair they reached the end of the hall. Three flights of stairs and two rooms later she found herself being shoved into the Emperors throne room.
From behind her, the tall soldier knocked her legs out from under her, causing her to collapse in an ungraceful heap on the ground, and pressed her face onto the red carpet, which led up to the Emperor's throne.
"Bow." He hissed in her ear.
Composing herself, Xian Lang did as he said, casting the solider a resentful glare.
From behind her she could hear the screech of metal as the three soldiers kelt as well "Your Majesty." The man with the face of scars spoke. "We present you.. the Witch."