Fantasy › 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

[deer]

"How wondrously a butterfly's delicate flutter can set the world
in motion, a whisper that echoes through time."​

 

[deer]

❛ RÜYA ❜

chapter one: ripple in the waves

S

he smelled the acrid tang of smoke before her eyes even fluttered open, the sharp scent cutting through the stale air of her surroundings.

Rough, calloused hands gripped her wrist, prying her out of her makeshift cot. Hushed and harsh whispers filled her ears, mingling with the distant cries of panic. The quick change of attire was swift, like a practiced dance, the fabric clinging to her skin as if trying to shield her from the impending danger. Her dress fit snugly against her frame, and her hooded cloak covered her completely, concealing her identity in the dim light. The scales tipped. Whether she realized it or not, distracting and drawing attention to herself while also escaping remained daunting tasks, and she could only hope the stars aligned with her motives.

Her feet dragged as she ran, nearly tripping over herself in her haste to escape the chaos. With her heart pounding against her ribs and smoke filling her lungs, her vision blurred with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She pushed on, refusing to succumb to despair and the destruction that awaited her city.

Panicked, fear-stricken screams filled the night air, a discordant symphony of terror and desperation. The city burned, its raging fire a relentless force consuming everything in its path. Vaeloria's civil war clashed with unrelenting and terrorizing forces, each faction vying for dominance in the chaos. Distinguishing between friends and foes became an impossible task in the midst of the mayhem. Yet, amid the blank stares and fallen bodies, Rüya pressed forward, driven by the singular desire for freedom.

Her ears rang with the cacophony of battle, the clash of swords and the thunderous sound of hooves against cobblestones echoing in her skull. The streets became a deadly dance floor, every step a gamble for survival. Dodging oncoming hits and diving for cover, she fought with a desperate determination to stay alive. However, luck was not on her side, and the taste of blood in her mouth was a cruel reminder of the price of defiance.

A loud yelp escaped her lips—the first sound she had allowed all night.

Rüya struggled to gather herself, her body protesting every movement as she distanced herself from her assailants. A scream clawed at her throat, desperate for release as she fought to break free from their iron grip. The metallic taste of blood mingled with the scent of sweat and fear, a grim reminder of the brutal reality closing in around her. However, before she could flee, the opposing force unsheathed his sword from behind and placed it against her neck.

"And where do you think you're off to, Izkari¹?" His smug grin made her blood boil.

Magnus.

His all-too-familiar, imposing stature from behind made her squirm. Rüya wasn't afraid but knew she was often under his scrutiny, falling prey to his wandering eyes.

Her gaze flicked towards the unconscious, bleeding man across from her, feeling a sharp ache around her neck. She bit down on her lips, refusing to let another sound escape. It didn't take her long to realize that Yarin wouldn't be able to save her. She wanted to call out to him, to plead with him to get up. But Rüya couldn't give Magnus the satisfaction of hearing her cries and pain.

"As far away from a traitor like you as possible," she spat out, her voice hoarse and cracked.

Yanked up from the ground and forced to stand, leaning on her better leg, Rüya turned to face the former captain of Vaeloria's army. His sword loomed dangerously close to her eyes as she was held in place by iron grips. She sneered at Magnus. The buildings surrounding the city began to crumble one by one, the red flames engulfing her surroundings as she smelled the scents of burnt flesh and crisp wood. The crackling of fire reverberated throughout the city.

Magnus gradually lowered his sword, placing it securely by his side. His footsteps echoed in her ears as he came closer. Rüya squirmed, trying in vain to shake off those still clutching her.

"Do you have any idea how much someone would pay to keep you in their grasp?" Magnus drawled, clicking his tongue as he lifted her chin with a finger. Their faces were mere inches apart, a tense silence hanging between them like a taut string ready to snap.

Rüya detested the look in Magnus's eyes, devoid of concern and emotion. An unconscious shiver crept up her spine, goosebumps appearing on her arms as if warning her of imminent danger. She didn't answer his inquiries and merely stared back, her gaze unwavering despite the fear simmering beneath the surface.

A booming laughter escaped Magnus's lips, the sound echoing in the chaos surrounding them. He motioned for soldiers to move forward, taking her wherever he planned, his arrogance palpable in every step he took.

Her adrenaline rush started to fade, replaced by a bone-deep weariness that settled in her limbs. Rüya hadn't realized how exhausted she was from the relentless running and fighting. Her slow gait continued as she tried to analyze possible ways to extricate herself from her current predicament. Anxiety and guilt briefly entered her mind, a turbulent mix of emotions clouding her thoughts.

Yet, despite the despair, a flicker of determination ignited within her. She couldn't give up now, not when she was so close to freedom. The burning desire to escape Magnus's clutches fueled her resolve, a fierce determination to defy the fate he had in store for her—a fate worse than death.

As if the fates heard her silent determination, a sudden explosion rocked the air, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Rüya seized the moment of distraction without hesitation. With adrenaline coursing through her veins once more, she broke free from the iron grips that held her and darted into the chaos of the burning city.

Hours turned into days, each moment a battle against exhaustion and despair as Rüya navigated through the city's inferno. The smoke and screams provided a haunting symphony, a cacophony of chaos that enveloped her as she sought refuge in abandoned buildings, their walls whispering tales of lost lives and shattered dreams.

Finally reaching the outskirts of the city, weary and bruised, Rüya stumbled upon an inn. Its timeworn facade stood as a beacon of fleeting sanctuary amidst the chaos. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she pushed open the creaking door, the warmth and scent of hearth-cooked meals offering a fleeting sense of comfort.

She sluggishly fell into an open seating in the crowded inn, her body aching from days of constant movement. Every muscle protested as she sank into the wooden chair, a testament to the toll of her harrowing escape. The innkeeper, a stout man with a bushy beard that mirrored the ruggedness of the city itself, approached her table with a curious expression.

"What'll it be, lass?" he asked gruffly, eyeing her worn attire with suspicion.

Rüya glanced up, her eyes pleading as she realized she had no coin to pay for a meal. "I... I don't have any money," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her stomach growled loudly, betraying her hunger and desperation. The innkeeper's expression hardened, a gruff look crossing his features as he considered her predicament.

"Water, if it's free," she ventured, casting a quick glance around the room, hoping for a stroke of luck.

1. Izkari meaning 'my princess'
tag: Cosmo