She didn't know whether she just had terrible luck or if the chain of events was the beginning of her adventure just like the Knight of Darkness had said. She prayed it was terrible luck as she stared at the fire lapping at her home, swirling around the stones and wood alike as the screams of the men inside echoed through her ears. A warm hand touched her shoulder nervously as she shook with sobs, the tears pouring down her cheeks as the autumn winds lashed against her cheeks. A scarlet cloak draped her shoulders, as if protecting her from everything in the entire world.
It hadn't started out this way. The day had been absolutely gorgeous. No clouds in sight, the sky so blue that it hurt to look at for more than a few minutes. The sun and the air meddled with each other to make the perfect temperature, the heat touching her skin as she lay on the stone balcony, oblivious to the world around her. Three nights ago, the knights had left her with an idiot like Claude and her brothers, to start their own adventure once more. Three nights ago she would have been left in her own personal hell if her dreams hadn't been so dreadfully close.
It was the first night she'd gotten a long rest with no disturbances whatsoever. Her brothers had still been flinching from her outburst by the time dinner came around and passed, her father still locked up in his study. Even Claude, the obnoxious drunk he was, was late for dinner, and when he arrived was so drunk that he could hardly sit up straight. He'd ended up leaving after giving her a dirty glare and she was alone at the table once more. It had been nice. Another plus had been the immense lack of nightmares that invaded her sleep, leaving her snoring into the pillow until she could no longer sleep.
Her handmaiden hadn't even bothered her to come down to breakfast, and while her stomach was hungry, she was too blind to the outside world to care. Her knife whittled across a stick, sharpening one of the ends as she peeled off the bark. A pile of litter lay around her legs as she easily went over the wood, malleable the more she worked with it. The sun had beaten down on her skin as she finished sharpening one edge of the stick and by the time lunch had come around, the entire piece of wood was hardly longer than her middle finger.
When her handmaiden didn't come to get her for lunch, she wondered if she had overdone herself when she'd exploded at her brothers. It wasn't like them to get too grumpy with her and her random outbursts, but she'd called their father a drunken bastard…and they were still loyal to him while her mind was set on leaving and never returning. And as the sun began to slowly sink in the sky, the stick was gone and she'd resorted to reading. There had been no sign of her family all day and she loved it, the fact that they realized she was independent and not a helpless little girl.
Dinner should have come around and long passed, and by then, her stomach was growling and her throat was parched. Still dressed in the clothes she'd worn to bed the previous night, she stood and placed her knife on the vanity. Opening the door, she peaked out into the hallway; silence and darkness. Confused, Alyvia pushed into the darkness, taking the candle from her room. There was no sound of any cooks or servants; no boisterous laughs of her older brothers as they flung pebbles at each other. The only thing she could physically hear was her feet hitting the scarlet carpet as she glanced around, the candle cloaked by the darkness. Curiosity ran rapid through her, outweighing the fear she felt.
As she moved into the dining hall, she had seen that dinner was, in fact, set out for her family. In her father's seat was a man, with dark eyes and shaggy hair. His mouth was coated in the foam of ale as he stared at her, putting a cup to his lips and nearly inhaling the drink once more. Alyvia had watched him raise his hand and hold up a sparkling silver clip encrusted with diamonds, his brow furrowed in his head. "Wasn't right for you to deny me without gettin to know me, was it?" He slurred, his tongue lolling the more he spoke.
She stiffened, her fingers tightening around the candle as he tried to stand, nearly tipping over his seat. As he moved closer, he dropped his cup full of ale and kicked it towards her, his grin growing the closer he got. Alyvia had begged for it to be nothing but a nightmare, begged for the entire day to be changed. But his gaze was so cruel and so familiar that she knew it wasn't her imagination; he was planning on finishing what those men had started over a week ago.
Alyvia hadn't let him, though, as she tossed her candle against his rich, borrowed clothes. The flame caught on his chest and instantly lit up the silk riches, his screams of pain and haunting laughter invading her head the more she tried to escape. His hair lit up in fire, his clothes disintegrating with the flame. Finally, through his pain, his grip loosened and she barely managed to turn away, pulling her skirt up so it wouldn't catch on fire. The rest of the candle hit the floor, lighting up the scarlet rug as if it were the best flame conductor in the world.
As the flame burned off his clothes, she had raced out of the dining hall and up the stairs. "Jon!" She had screamed as she pushed against his door and raced into his darkened room. The windows were open as she raced towards his bed, instantly regretting her decision. He lay on his stomach, as if he were sleeping, but through the edge of the moonlight she saw the scarlet blood coating his sheets and the cloudy green in his open eyes as he lay dead in front of her. "No!" She had cried, tugging at his hair and trying desperately to wake him up. This wasn't right. This wasn't happening.
Tears poured down her face as she hid in his room. There was no telling what happened to Mason and Hunter and her father after seeing what they had done to Jon. She stroked his hair sticky with blood, unable to help the sobs wracking her body. There was a cruel laugh, followed by varying laughter; he'd brought reinforcements. Alyvia shuddered with a final sob, leaning down to kiss Jon's cheek before moving his sheets to cover him up. That's when she had moved.
She'd grabbed his knife and unsheathed it. The laughter continued, the loud cries and chants of angry and lustful men. She cursed angrily as she thought about running back to her room with the men getting closer and closer. With a prayer, she inhaled softly before racing out of Jon's room and towards her own. The entire entrance hall was alight with flames, a group of ten or so men gathered at the bottom of the steps. Claude stood, completely hairless after his clothes and body had been burned almost black. Alyvia gagged at the smell of broiled flesh and picked up her step, sliding into her room. Her fingers shook stuffed a stool under the door handle, praying it would hold for her escape.
She had torn off her dress and thrown it to the ground. A loud bang came at her door followed by the shrill scream of her handmaiden as the images of rape invaded her mind. Alyvia winced forcibly as she slipped on her leather leggings. Before she could slide on the rest of her clothes, the door opened and Claude appeared with his eyes red from the smoke, hazy because of the alcohol. He still had the clip that her mother had left behind, and with three swift steps he had captured her arm and was raking the sharp edges across her chest. "You're a bitch, you know that? A bitch with too many luxuries. A bitch with too many privileges—"
Through the severe pain and captured hands, Alyvia had just barely managed to shove her brother's knife into his shoulder. He'd screamed out in slurred pain, his eyes widening as he let her arms go. In seconds, she had pulled on the leather tunic and grabbed the very knife her older brother had given her, shoving it into her belt before he kicked her in the back. Alyvia had fallen, cursing herself for not killing him when she'd had the chance, as she dug her hands into the rug. Claude grabbed and pulled on her hair, the immense pain racing through her entire being, her screams of pain echoing around her room and out of the door.
This time it had looked as if she were going to die, just like her brothers and father, just like her raped handmaiden who claimed she was a terrible thing to serve. She was going to be still forever and ever, never go on her adventure, never going to complete her dreams. Hot tears raced down her cheeks as the thought of being locked up forever invaded her mind; this wasn't what she wanted at all, this wasn't what would happen if she had any say in it. Fury pumped through her blood as he tried to yank off her clothes again, but she wouldn't let him have her. She kicked him in the stomach with whatever force she had left. Claude had stumbled backwards and hit the vanity with a screech as his head slammed into the glass. Glittering shards caught the moonlight as she saw him black out, and this time she wouldn't stay around for him to wake up.
She raced out of the bedroom and into the hallway where many men alike stood, their hands coated in the jewels and riches her father kept locked away in his vault. Their laughter rose as she appeared, the menacing look filling their eyes. Just like Claude, they, too, wanted to have everything for their own. They were greedy, and evil and mean and envious. She held her knife in front of her, her last form of protection, before a long silver blade came from nowhere and pierced the body of the leader in front, pinning his torso to the wooden wall within seconds.
Her gaze had shifted and she'd spotted the knights within seconds. Their bodies were layered with chainmail as their swords cut deep into the ligaments and flesh of their enemies, their golden eyes marred with anger and fury. Alyvia breathed a sigh of relief as Alphonse raced up the stairs and cut his way through the men, the flames licking at his silver cloak. "Lady Alyvia—"He started, but one of the men raced to pierce his armor. Before the deadly blade could slice through his chest, she shoved her knife into his eye and twisted, but the screams weren't loud enough to satisfy her need for revenge.
She turned to him. "We need to go," She begged, clinging to his arm as the flames lapped up the entire entrance hall, the brightness dizzying to her head. Alphonse had given a single nod before picking her up and carrying her down the steps, the smoke penetrating her lungs and causing her to cough harder than she could ever desire. Before she lost sight of her home forever, she saw him standing at the edge of the stairs, his laughter loud as the roof began collapsing. Her fingers tightened around her knife and she buried her head into Alphonse's shoulder, holding back all the tears and hate and emotion she felt.
Edward was waiting by the two horses, his blade covered in scarlet blood the same color of his cloak. His golden eyes met hers with reluctance. "You came back?" She breathed as the night air was filled by the putrid stench of smoke and burning flesh. He gave a single nod, his stoicism returned full swing. Alyvia didn't know how she could thank him as she frantically looked around. "My horse." She whispered, panic racing through her mind. "My Temptress, where—"But the golden look that he gave her only confirmed the worst of her fears. Her brother, Jon, sliced open roughly from chest to stomach, the others she could only presume sliced open as well. Her home burned, her every possession destroyed save her knife. And now her beloved horse, her beautiful Temptress….
She didn't know whether she just had terrible luck or if the chain of events was the beginning of her adventure just like the Knight of Darkness had said. She prayed it was terrible luck as she stared at the fire lapping at her home, swirling around the stones and wood alike as the screams of the men inside echoed through her ears. A warm hand touched her shoulder nervously as she shook with sobs, the tears pouring down her cheeks as the autumn winds lashed against her cheeks. A scarlet cloak draped her shoulders, as if protecting her from everything in the entire world.