Slayers Fan Fiction ❯ Stolen ❯ Prologue: Escape ( Prologue )

Stolen

Disclaimer: Not mine. I've moved on, you should too.

Prologue

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But evil things, in robes of sorrow,

Assailed the monarch's high estate.

(Ah, let us mourn!-for never morrow

Shall dawn upon him desolate!

And round about his home, and glory

That blushed and bloomed

Is but a dim-remembered story

Of the old time entombed.

-exert from The Haunted Palace, Edgar Allan Poe

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Dark, ominous clouds filled the sky, turning day into night. Thunder rumbled and lightning streaked haphazardly across the heavens. Its eerie, momentary glow was enough to reveal the sinister-looking palace that sprawled across the ground surrounded by ornate gardens and gloomy forests. The slight figure of a young woman darted towards a window, paused momentarily to tug vainly at its latch, and continued on to the next. After struggling for several minutes with the windows she turned and ran deeper into the shadowed depths of the citadel. She gasped in shallow gulps of air as she ran, the sound hollow and loud in the barren corridor. She concentrated on the ragged breaths and the sound of her sandaled feet slapping against the chilly stone floor to drown out the echo of her heart beating deafeningly in her ears. The passage split and she veered to the left, slipped on the edge of a rug, and fell to her knees, dropping the small child in her arms in the process.

The child, a girl who looked too small for her five years, remained silent and merely latched back onto her mother as the desperate race began again. Sparing a breath to blow a bit of hair out of her eyes, the woman pushed on as she pulled the child closer to her battered body. A loud clanging noise suddenly rang through the hallway and the woman paused. Her rough breathing quickened and she began to pull at various doors in the hallway, a desperate look in her dying eyes. The first two were locked, but the third opened easily and she stumbled though it, closing it behind her with a sharp thrust. Content with the knowledge that she was somewhat safer, the woman relaxed her hold on her daughter slightly and leaned back against the door. A candle unexpectedly flared to life and the woman let out a shriek of fear, the child in her arms too terrified to do anything more that whimper quietly and hide her face in her mother's bloody, collared neck. A tall, imposing man, as dark and cold as his palace, smiled chillingly at the two, his calm demeanor more fearsome then most men's rages.

"Ah, firefly. How kind of you to come visit me in my rooms." He crossed the room in a few long strides and grasped the trembling woman's chin. He studied her tear-streaked face for a long moment before turning his attention to the little girl. "And you brought the lovely little Nadia as well," he said with a leer as he ran his fingers though the small child's flame colored hair. The woman growled and yanked her daughter away from him.

"Keep your damn hands off of her, Yukio," she spat viciously and carefully placed the child on the floor behind her. The man laughed obnoxiously before grinning at the enraged woman.

"Take care that you don't work yourself up too much, firefly. Remember, you don't have your magic any longer. The collar takes care of that. Rather magnificent, isn't it," Yukio asked as he forcefully pulled the struggling woman toward him and pushed her hair from her neck. With a sadistic grin he leaned closer and slowly licked one of the deeper furrows that marred the woman's smooth skin. He captured a few crimson drops of blood on his tongue and smiled slowly in satisfaction at the metallic taste. "It completely negates your powers. I can see why you are so eager to be rid of it, my little firefly," he mumbled against her skin. The woman shuddered in disgust and vehemently shoved the willowy man away from herself.

"Bastard," she hissed as tears filled her eyes again. "If I had access to my powers I would kill you in an instant."

Yukio smirked, clearly amused by his firefly's anger and the way that her voice shook uncontrollably. He took a step closer to the infuriated woman. "I'm surprised you let that stop you."

The woman looked up at him and smiled slowly. "Who says I am?"

Yukio had only a moment to ponder her words before he felt the dull blade pierce his side. He blinked and stumbled back as the dagger was ripped viciously back out. After a moment he focused on the woman before him and sneered. "I always knew you had spirit. I should have left you were I found you, you ungrateful whore."

The woman closed the distance between the two and thrust the dagger up to the hilt into his stomach unheeding of the blood that stained her hands and gown. "And you are nothing but a murdering maniac."

"Ah, irony. How terribly extraordinary," Yukio muttered as he collapsed to the ground. Not wasting any time the woman rushed to a cluttered desk in the corner and began ripping drawers open as Nadia sat huddled by the door. With a triumphant noise the woman closed her fingers around a ring of keys.

"Mama!" The woman's head whipped around at her daughter's screech. Yukio was unhurriedly pushing himself off of the ground. The bleeding had already stopped and the woman could see his wounds slowly knitting back together through his torn shirt. With a muttered oath that would make a sailor blush the woman scurried by the wounded man, scooped her daughter up in her arms again, and followed the only option open to her. She ran.

She traced her steps back to where she had begun, only this time instead of attempting to open the windows she simply chose the largest one and jumped though it. She landed in a heap of twisted silk, fragmented glass, and splintered wood, her lithe body curled around her child to protect her from the dangerous shards. The rain made quick work of soaking both the woman and Nadia while the wind tore at their clothing and hair. However, the woman blessed the elements instead of cursing them. They were one of the few things that would keep Yukio from leaving his palace and by the time they had stopped she should be far away from the hellhole she had occupied for the last six years. As she reached the edge of one of the forests that marked the border of Yukio's land she turned and took one last look back. Her blood ran cold as she saw Yukio's silhouette in the broken window. The slanting rain drove relentlessly into the opening and fell around him in sheets as he stood watching her leave, laughing sinisterly.

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