Kath Thea Wolf was lifting the last of her family’s harvest for that year onto her work-exhausted back, when her older brother came striding down the path towards her.

Her brother had the fine features of someone who had been pampered since birth. Which he had been, since Kath’s birth nine years later anyways, by their mother. Her mother was a depressed woman who couldn’t stand the horrible thought of her beautiful baby boy being used for manual labor. Or anything less than riding around town on his sister's stallion and getting hopelessly drunk at the small tavern that called the village of Wisperton home. He had bright blue eyes, blonde hair, and a smile that could make any girl swoon. Other than that he was a walking idiot.

Herself on the other hand was nothing like her brother with his blue eyes. Her eyes were an emerald green, like the gems pulled from the Berthworth mines. Instead of blonde hair she had long, mousy, brown hair always pulled up in a ponytail. And, of course, muscles and calluses from working in the fields from dawn until dusk.

“Kath! Wait up!”

Her brother’s labored breathing caught up to her ears and she couldn't believe that a flat quarter of a mile trek had caused him to lose his breath. Especially since he had walked the entire way. His stricken face did nothing to worry her, like it would their mother, and she kept on limping down the path.

A misplaced basket full of apples had been laying in the middle of the field around noon, causing the incident. She had tripped over the basket, impaling her shin on a sharp rock with a bale of hay smothering her. The wound had stopped being too much pain, but she was still ready to finish her chores. As soon as she dropped off the last of the harvest in their barn, she could grab her horse, rest her injured leg, and ride off into the sunset - at least until work started the next day, day after day, on and on like it had for the past eleven years since she was six.

Her brother called out to her again, something about the prince and the crops. Her mother had probably sent him to remind her that if she didn’t get the crops harvested to be sent to the palace on time this year, she would have her daughter whipped again.

Her farm, though small, was one of the few remaining after the current plight, which still sent crops to the palace regularly. This was for the cooks to feed to the royals, all comfy on their thrones, and two years ago she had sent the crops to the castle late due to a fight between her and two of the village boys. She had beaten both of the boys to within an inch of their lives but not without suffering from a broken nose, leaving her “less attractive” in the eyes of her mother. She didn’t need to be attractive to anyone, but she had also sprained her forearm. Her mother had been fined for the late crops and had delivered her daughter ten lashes, painful but not unbearable. Her back had also been left a bloody mess and since her mother had to remind her, an unnecessary reminder at that, to get the crops in on time.

She shut the barn door in her brother’s face, setting down the bundle of wheat and walking over to Storm’s stall.

How many years ago she couldn’t count, she had come across an injured stallion in the woods across town. The horse was badly wounded in the side, it looked like a knife wound, although very magnificent and fit for royals. The horse was a midnight black with green eyes to match her own, and overlooking the injury was as fit as a fiddle. There was no reason that the horse should have been injured, as far as she could figure the horse had no problems. Storm quickly grew to trust her and her in return. They were a perfect match.

She quickly saddled her loyal stallion and mounted. She kicked open the barn doors as she rode past, her brother nowhere in sight, then took off at a speed that never seemed to have a limit, flying. She whooped and took off down towards the beach on one of the many side trails.

A cry was ripped from her throat as something suddenly and painfully pulled her off of her horse onto the hard dirt trail, her head landing with a thump seconds after her back. It deluded her mind and vision for a moment as she looked up into the faces of two middle aged men.

“Well that was easier than I thought.” Said the first man.

“It also looked a bit painful, are you sure she is okay?” Man two had the face of someone who was used to being obeyed at his every whim, but Kath wasn’t planning on obeying.

“Of course it was painful you idiots, you pulled me off a galloping horse onto a hard path littered with stones.” She picked up one of the rocks laying on the ground and threw it at him. To her disappointment he dodged easily and grabbed her wrists to stop any more chucked rocks at his head.

“She seems fine. Possibly a few bruises, nothing else.” This man was making her angry, if she could reach her dagger… there. Her hand clasped it. “That horse was moving a bit fast as well.”

She smirked at him, “Well guess what, I’m much faster.” She jerked the man who was holding her wrists, up and over her head, and he landed with a thump that made her cringe.

After his initial shock, the other man pulled a dagger out of his belt and lunged for her, but she was already on her feet and had no issue dodging. In turn she pulled her dagger to the front, throwing it so it landed to quiver in the tree behind him, just missing cutting off his ear.

With the gift of the knife from her father before his passing she had developed a deep passion for learning how to use it and had trained every day until she had the accuracy she wanted.

Man one froze and stared at her as she continued to smirk at him, enjoying she had gotten the upper hand again. But his surprised gaze drifted to behind her. She took a moment to soak in her glory and told him it could have been between his eyes before she turned, to discover the flat side of a sword on a collision path with her head.

The world fell dark.

Kath jerked awake to the sound of men laughing, the heat of near-by fires and of course the rough bark of a post digging into her back, which was now covered in only a thin shift. She shivered at the thought of unknown hands on her while she was unconscious.

She went to prod her throbbing forehead to see if there were any bumps or blood but her hands wouldn't move, they were tied behind her and wrapped around the pole. She pulled to see how sturdy the pole was, and was drawn back, bumping her head a bit too hard against it. She grunted as leaning her head against the pole caused a faint amount of pain but the real problem was that the grunt attracted unneeded attention from her captors.

The face of boy two appeared, his mouth pressed into an unforgiving line. "Someone is awake." The annoying lilt boy two drifted to her ears, it had been too much to hope he was dead. "I could have you killed for what you did to me girl, but since the boss won't allow it I'll beat you instead." His fists started pummeling her stomach and there was nothing she could do about it with her hands tied.

Kath cried out, her mind was in shambles and there was only so much she could take without breaking. Tears ran freely down her face and it was embarrassing to fall apart in front of her captors.

"That's enough Sir Dartsson, the girl has clearly suffered more than she can take." The hands pummeling her stomach stopped and her head dropped limply, teeth clenching the gag in her mouth. A soft hand pulled her chin up and before her eyes even met the gaze of the person who had saved her, she knew it was a noble. Her eyes fell on the face of the man who picked up her chin and she gasped. She was staring into the face of no other than the crowned prince.

His eyes were dark and cruel, matching his slick black hair that covered pale skin. His face had no wrinkles from laughing yet he was handsome in a scary way, nothing like she had imagined.

"You put up quite a fight for a girl who was supposed to be pathetic and weak, I suppose my informant lied to me. I'll have to have him put down."

Her brother, he had been on his way to tell her he was selling her as a slave to the prince.

"I am neither," she hissed, refusing to back down under his scrutiny. "I am strong from working in fields, smart from the education that I worked for, and I can wield a dagger and throw a punch. I can ride a horse as well, so-.”

“So what? You’re trapped, with nowhere to go and you are going to work as my slave for the rest of your pathetic little life. You will have no need of education when you are rubbing my feet and serving me food and won’t have a dagger unless it is shoved through your heart.” he stood up from his kneeled position at her side, “Get her injuries cleaned and fix her up, then send her to me so that I may access her.” With that he turned around and walked away, leaving her to be roughly led to the medical tent.

…

Kath was shoved into the medical tent and instructed to lay down on the cot inside on her stomach so that the older slave that was standing there could take care of her injuries.

The older slave wrapped the few open cuts she had and looked over the bruises and the bumps she had collected all while poking and prodding her. The woman cut open the back of her shift, increasing her shivering while she made sure that Kath’s back wasn’t harmed in the fall off her horse.

There was a sharp gasp and the woman’s hands that had been poking her drew away. There was the sound of hurried footsteps and out of the corner of her eye she saw the tent flap flutter back into place. She could make out voices from the other side of the canvas walls, the slave was mentioning something to Sir Dartsson and the guards. Someone left and came back, another pair of footsteps with them.

“Yes I see. What an abnormality.” The prince’s voice cut through the anxious air in the tent.

She gasped and rolled her, sitting up quickly. The back of her shift was cut open from neck to her lower back, leaving her normally covered skin bare.

“Roll back over girl,” his voice was commanding and she found her body rolling without her even instructing it to. Kath hissed, finding she couldn’t move once her back was facing up again.

“Interesting,” there was a moment's pause in which she shivered before it was broken, “Who had you whipped?”

The question was so random that for a second her brain only ran in circles while it processed what he had asked before she finally answered.

“My mother for me not getting the harvest in on time.”

“Any other reasons?”

“No.” There was another moment of silence in which she could have sworn she heard the faint sound of church bells, but she dropped the thought when she was able to move again. She jerked up, rolling off of the cot in the process, wincing as it sent flames of pain through her. Falling off things seemed to be getting more progressive. Boy one, who was called Lord Wavingmen, pulled her to her feet and stepped back.

The prince stepped to the entrance of the tent, and before ducking through commanded that she be dressed in a new shift, one befitting of a royal slave and reminded them that she was to be sent to his tent afterwards.

Five minutes later she was dressed in a slightly thicker shift, a relief, that was a white with blue cuffs, the kingdom's colors and was on her way to the prince’s tent.

She stopped outfront, breathing heavily. The guards had removed the bonds from her chaffed wrists so she could move them freely, yet they were still watching her like hawks. There was a river just beyond the tent and she was fast, not to mention a good swimmer as well. If she could get to the river, once she was on the other side, she could escape.

Before she felt like looking around suspiciously, something that could easily give you away, she took off running towards the river. There were shouts from the guards behind her, but she didn’t stop. She reached the river and dived in with no hesitation, even hesitating for a second could come at the price of her freedom.

The river was freezing and much faster than she had anticipated. It pushed her a ways down stream before she was able to climb out onto the far bank. Looking back to where her captors had set up camp, she saw the prince standing there, his eyes seeming slightly kinder than before. It didn’t seem possible that he could be anywhere near kind, but before she could dwell on the thought there was the sound of a galloping animal coming towards her and she was scooped up and onto the back of a horse.

Lucas stared after the girl as she made her way down stream. He half expected her not to make it. The river was violent and deadly this time of year, as the rain flowing down from the hisba mountains tended to cause floods. He had set up camp so close to the river only because he thought it would provide a good water source for his men and because it would stop people from running. How wrong he had been.

There was the sound of hoofbeats racing towards the girl and he slung his black cloak around his shoulders, sinking into the shadows to watch what was about to take place.

A black horse came into view, much like the one they had pulled the girl off of before. He winced at the thought, he hadn’t meant for her to be tossed around like a sack of potatoes, but her being able to fight only made it worse. If he didn’t need a servant he would have put her on the royal guard. They could always use someone who knew how to fight and with spirit, but since he didn’t intend to use her for anything but a slave, he turned back to the horse and rider.

The stallion was carrying a male rider with a clock obscuring his head towards the girl and Lucas watched as the man leaned to the side and wrapped an arm around the girl, pulling her up and onto the horse with an ease you didn't see everyday.

Lucas sighed and turned around, stalking back to his tent and sitting down at his oak wood desk.

Oak or any type of tree had become increasingly rare in the past year after a plight had caused the land to die, killing off a lot of living things, including trees and animals. Before his father, the king, could create a law about cutting down trees, most people had rushed to chop down what they could and only a few skinny forests remained, filled with dying trees. Horses had been another thing to go and that was why it had surprised him so much when the girl galloped back on a horse that was fit for royalty once, but was now fit for only gods. How she had a horse like that was an impossible question to answer, most remaining horses were overused and sick, or commandeered by nobles and royalty. He himself had refused to take a horse from the more poor people, and therefore had to travel by leg.

The girl had come from a poor family with a suffering farm, that shouldn’t have been able to afford a horse at all, nor should she have had an education. One of the things that had surprised him the most though when he had been trying to find a slave, was that there was no one working in the fields with her and the fact that she was working and not her brother.

In this time and age, females were usually the ones pampered and made to sit inside all day, doing needlework and learning how to take care of the household, but instead her brother had taken her place and she was working.

There was something off about the girl and he intended to figure it out.

Kath struggled as her new captor held onto her tightly, over as tightly as he could while riding a horse. She wasn’t going to get away from one captor just to get caught by another.

“Stop struggling!” Her captor hissed. “You’re only making it easier for them to catch up to us quicker! I’m just trying to help!”

She stopped struggling, trying to decide if her captor was to be trusted or not. “Why are you galloping me off on a horse then?” She asked, turning and attempting to look at him, but he stopped her.

“First off it’s your horse and second it’s better if you don’t know who I am, for right now anyways.

The land flew by as they headed in the direction of what was clearly the Hisba mountains since the few things the plight had spared grew more sparse as the land became more rocky.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked, giving up on trying to see his face.

“The Hisba mountains to see the king of darkness. He would really like to meet you, so he says.”

“The king of darkness…” There were many stories about the king of darkness, but none had ever seen his face; they said it was hidden behind a veil of shadows as he controlled his kingdom of creatures that lurked below.

The horse slowed down until it came to a halt in front of a pile of rocks leaning up against the base of the mountain. The man dismounted behind her and she followed suit, walking behind him as he led Stormy and her towards the pile of rocks.

It didn’t appear that there was any way around the rocks or through them yet he was leading her right towards them. As they came closer though she saw that there was a hidden crevice that headed deeper into the mountain.

She hesitated at the mouth of the mountain then walked in, it was complete darkness until they reached a larger cavern where a fire was already burning. The man dropped the reins and let stormy walk over to where apples were spilling out of a sack.

“I’m really not interested in being captured again, my brother sold me off to the prince and now you are trying to sell me off to the king of darkness. I’m starting to see a very annoying pattern, what about you?”

“I’m not selling you off and that wasn’t your brother.”

Kath gaped at him, confused and possibly worried.

“The one who sold you off is an imposter,” The man turned around to face her and she stared at a face that was so much like her own, one that she wished she had been able to see everyday, instead of the pompous golden hair thing she had to live with.

“I am Jasper wolf, you elder brother and the person who is impersonating me is clearly an imposter..”

Lucas stood at his desk, staring at the paper that he was confronted with while he waited for the guards to bring back his slave. It was the worst of his problems, causing his father to kick him out of the palace and for him to be challenged with how he would save his kingdom.

A couple months ago, a year after the plight had started a dream had come to him where the gods told of a savior who would return the land to its former glory, within a lake that only princes and kings could go.

One of spirit saving soul

One with hair of Oak

Eyes as green as emeralds

Bravery

Heart

And hope

To save the forsaken world

As far as prophecies go it wasn’t the most confusing but yet at the time he hadn’t been sure how to find the person who would save them all. And he still hadn’t found the one who would fulfill the prophecy and save them all. Yet he had the feeling that the one to save them was close at hand, closer than it seemed.

He moved on to the next set of papers which contained the newest news of the plight, collected from all around the kingdom.

The fields in the north were suffering the worst, crops dying and hearts failing everyday. His thoughts turned back to the girl as he sighed, her mother was the owner of the small farm which she had been working all alone without help from even the brother. The farm would most likely fail but he had to take the girl.

He had been in need of a new servant for some time now, preferably one with little to no pay since his money was running low and after sending people to find him a new one he had come across the girl. A perfect catch since no one had seemed to be around her and he was informed she took rides down to the beach every night, by herself. His informant had said she was broken but strong, yet it seemed you couldn’t trust anyone but yourself to do the job correctly. She clearly wasn’t broken and had found himself growing attached to her efforts, she had only continued to prove herself since.

The flap to his tent was thrown open wide and the elder slave woman who had treated the girl's wounds before entering, bowing low when he turned to look at her.

“Rise.” He commended and she complied, “What have you found out about the girl’s wounds?”

“The lashes along the girls back were indeed laced with Iron your majesty.” He nodded thoughtfully and turned back to his desk.

“Dismissed.” The slave woman left and he let the gates to his thoughts open.

Iron was often used for those with magic or powers that needed to be submerged, often it was done by the people who had the magic to hide it, himself having a single iron ring.

The stronger your magic the more iron that was needed and the girl had a lot of iron in her back. That fact that she seemed to have no idea that she had magic was even more confusing, especially when her mother did.

He sighed and turned to leave the tent just as the tent flap was thrown open once more and a soldier strode in. He bowed stiffly then spoke.

“We have found the girls trail my lord.

“Good, bring her straight to me.” He smiled and strolled out of the tent.

Kath gaped at Mica, the fire heating her back and his smile warming her front, maybe he was actually her brother, maybe she had found someone to trust and her old “brother” was really an imposter. Maybe she didn’t have to feel betrayed,

She sat down facing him waiting for an explanation about where he had been all these years and why he had never shown up if he was really her brother. He sat down as well, stirring the fire before he finally seemed real to start.

“When you were just a baby, not much more than a toddler really, I decided it was time for me to leave and set off into the world. I was of a good age and you were young enough to forget you ever had me for a brother. I asked my friend to fill in my place, you needed someone to get you into trouble and to teach you things our parents couldn’t, I filled our parents in on what I was doing and then I left.”

“Why? Why would you leave?” She asked deeply confused and almost angry that he had abandoned her to the golden haired idiot she had to live with for twelve years.

“I'll get to that in a moment,” he leaned backwards like he was thinking before he spoke again. “I filled my bags with the supplies I needed, then I took our only horse and left. I explained to our parents that I felt that the gods were calling to me for a greater purpose. On my travels I met The King of Darkness and he wouldn’t let me go unless I promised to bring you to him- No I don't know how he knew about you or why he wanted you, but I said I would since I wanted to survive. I’m going to get us out of the deal though, we can run off together and be safe. I’ll take care of you and be like a father to you. Will you do it?”

Kath stared at him, thinking about how she could run off with him but a little bit of common sense was still flowing and she wasn’t sure how he could be trusted. He could be making up stories and getting out of one deal meant he would and could do it later on.

Just as she was about to answer the fire blew out and a dark shadow rose on the cave wall. Mica’s eyes widened and he leapt, shoving her between fallen rocks and muffling her cry with one hand.

The shadow grew before her eyes, morphing into a 7 foot monster draped in a black cloak that hid his head deep in the folds of the hood.

“Little humans, I smell you, don’t run or hide.” The voice rushed around her and was as smooth as the wind rustling through the trees. It pulled at her, making her want to step out of the rocks and into the light. To surrender her soul to it but as she stepped forward her brother drew her back, clamping down on her arm so she couldn’t go anywhere.

“Don’t.” He mouthed, glaring at her, yet the voice called again, pulling harder and she broke free, stepping into the light.

“Ahh there you are little human. Come with me,” the creature turned and she followed down the passageway and into the dark, she heard her brother follow behind her.

…

They were led into a city carved out of rock and silver, it was stunning and dreary at the same time, where shadows morphed back and forth from almost recognizable creatures to something darker. They reached the gates of what looked like a castle, it was almost unseeable, buried in the stone yet created with glinting silver and gold, it must have been plentiful in the rocky mountain.

Through gates of intricate silver curls they entered and hallways of rock until they reached the large standing doors to what could be no other than the throne room. The doors were thrown open and they were shoved in as the shadows surrounding them pushed forward, breathing freezing air.

Sitting on the grandest throne she had ever seen, she had never really seen any, was the seven foot shadow that had called to her, she hadn’t seen him leave the group, but there he was. She got the impression that he was sizing her up behind his shadow veil.

“So girl,” she jumped when he spoke. His voice was haunting now and seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, “I see your brother has finally brought you to me, but he took his time in doing so…”

“And what do you plan to do with my sister?” Her brother interrupted.

“None of your business boy, I was going to give you both a nice room in my castle but you are trying my patients, I suppose we will have to send you to the dungeons instead. Take them away and make sure the girl has some Iron on her.” The shadows pressed in, and pushed them towards the small iron door beside the throne.

As the door closed behind them she cried out, “What do you mean Iron!” She called and then the metal snapped closed in a collar around her neck, the screams started.

Lucas watched as they carried the broken body of the girl back into camp, she was horribly scarred and he was almost afraid to step much closer.

Just after dawn a runner had reached camp, breathing heavily and with a message that the king of darkness, someone from fairytales who if they had any truth to them, was someone you would not want to meet, had a deal for him. It intrigued him greatly so he had the runner lead him back to where he had come from, an hour or two away.

Upon arriving at the place the runner had come from he had found the girl's body laying on a makeshift stretcher with the man, he suspected had been the one to scoop her up the horse, standing beside her with the horse. In the shadows of the trees stood a tall man who he knew immediately to be the king of darkness.

The king of darkness offered him the girl, horse, and man in return for Lucas’s name, it was a weird thing to ask for but he gave it anyway. The shadow of the man nodded and leaned down to whisper something in the ear of the injured girl before he disappeared with a rustle of wind through the trees.

The soldiers he had brought with him picked up the girl and carried her back to camp and into the medical tent where she was now.

He pushed aside the flap to the medical tent and walked in, the surgeon was leaning over the girl, looking at her neck, as she laid on a raised cot.

“How is my slave?” He asked smoothly and the surgeon turned around with surprise before bowing.

“Good sir, only the burn on her neck is confusing, either hot metal or iron to a….” the man drifted off with a nervous glance at the girl and Lucas knew what he meant.

“To someone with magic?

“Yes sir, the iron lacing her back would suggest that but the burn is bad, she might not survive, not to mention she is all bruised and beat up. It doesn’t appear that she was treated very well.” Lucas nodded and walked closer as the man left to a table in the corner.

The burn was bad, her skin was red and blistered all around her neck, in a complete circle, there was an ugly bruise around her eye and her hands were red as well, like she had attempted to pull the iron off of her neck. What was the reasoning for it he wondered. He brushed an oak brown hair back from her face.

There was a splash from the corner as the man poured something into a cup, taking a sip and sauntering over.

“Getting attached to the girl, are we sir?” The surgeon smiled as he looked down at Lucas who was leaning over the girl, he quickly stood up and watched as the man took another sip of the drink. “There is really no need to be worried, I don’t think the burns burnt anything important. I’m sure she will survive.”

“You just stated that she might not survive.

“Did I?” The man smirked and he caught the unmistakable smell of Whiskey coming from the man's breath. He snatched the cup out of the man's hands and took a whiff, it was indeed whiskey.

He dumped the drink on the floor, to the protests of the man, and then grabbed the bottle off of the table and handed it to him. He had most likely been trying to drink off the fact that he would have to watch over the girl all night instead of hanging out with the soldiers and gambiling away all his earnings.

“Take this outside and dump it, don’t drink it.” He knew the man would most likely still drink it hurriedly but if he did, he wasn’t to be trusted and could go to the stocks for all he cared. The man ran out of the tent, spurred on by the boot to his rear end.

In the time the man took he bent down and felt for the pulse in her neck, it was there steady but weak, barely noticeable. He sighed, if she died he would have to see out for a new slave all over again.

The man stumbled back in, empty bottle in his hands but breath smelling of even stronger liquor. He hadn’t listened.

“You drank all of this didn’t you?” He asked, even though he knew that the man had. The surgeon curled in on himself, stammering. Lucas shook his head and whistled, the soldiers that were standing outside entering moments later.

The soldiers stalked over to the man and grabbed his arm, lifting him and dragging him out of the tent as he cried forgiveness. There was none to be had, the man had insulted him and disobeyed him.

He turned to leave when the girl shot up in bed and fell off of it, clutching her head in her hands, wiggling on the ground.

“What have you done to me!” She cried, a hand going to her burnt neck and she screamed again. Lucas picked her up and sat her back in the bed.

“I’ve done nothing to you, you need to rest.” He watched as she curled up under the covers, still crying. He walked over to the table in the corner, reading the labels until he found a painkiller. He pressed it to her mouth as she drained it, and promptly fell back asleep.