Slave Mate Of The War God

I am Seranda Mathews the unwanted born of a lineage of slaves and sacrifice. Cursed with the spirit of Zeranda, keeper of the soul of death. A plague waiting to be eradicated. 

A celebration at my death, festivity at the sight of my blood. I look up and wipe away my tears, I stare from the open bars of my dungeon where sunlight penetrates to lighten up the cramped space I have called home for the last 18 years. Today is that day, the long-awaited day of my death.

I don't feel anything. I was neither provided information on why I must die, nothing could break me. No, they can't…can they? Neglected separated front all. Groomed as a sacrificial lamb what was there to hope for? I am not the first nor will I be the last, it will soon be time. 

The bird's songs wake me up. Other than every other day, today felt different. In the dungeon, she's lying on the floor, barely alive. I have lived off scraps of food for the longest time, not like I saw meaning to why I was fed. I was going to be killed either way. I got myself ready, there wasn't much to be done, and washed my hair with the little water left from the previous day, I have been isolated from humans since my birth. I did not get the chance to be a child like every other kid out there. 

I have only gotten the privilege to meet with two people in this lifetime of mine which will soon come to an end, the servant lady who raised me after the passing of my mother, and the mysterious demise of my father. She taught me how to read and write despite knowing it will all go to waste the day I turn 18 which is finally here. The cook has rather been too cruel towards me, I was barely given enough to last me for 18 years. The door abruptly opens and hefty men rush in with chains and shackles.

 “Tie her up” I hear one say. I was no criminal yet I was treated as one, my body was too fragile for such treatment yet no one cared. I was chained and forcefully changed into a white dress, which swept the floor. With every step I took, I could feel the pressure and answers within me racing and becoming even more intense. 

“Why me?” I have always wondered what it would be like to live a normal life, yet here I am being led to the slaughterhouse. Walking out of the building I have stayed in my entire life yet so unfamiliar. It is a mansion, more like a small castle, well decorated with Yellow colors hanging at the top end of every door. Yes, it was there for a reason, I have read about it, Yellow cleans the land of every evil and I was the evil tormenting this land yet I have done nothing wrong to warrant such treatment towards me.

 “Move” The guards pull the chains making me stumble and fall hard as they drag me through the city. I Could feel the cheers on my skin, I was thrown everything and anything disgusting, from spoiled fruits to vegetables. Nasty underwear, dust, molded mud, and even stones. No one cared if it hurt me, why should they care when I was going to die, it was rather a thing of jubilation. 

The streets of the capital shimmer in its glory, every decoration put up for this festive day. We soon arrived at the slaughter ground, I was to be killed by noon with the entire clan watching and cheering. “Kill the witch, kill the witch, we want her head, '' the crows chanted. The guards led me to the top overlooking the official. “Let the countdown begin” the minister of justice announced. 

“10,9,8,7,” the crowd chanted happily, eagerly waiting to wipe away my blood with a white cloth to cast away evil spells. I closed my eyes, it was time. I heard the final words 10 and everything went dark.

“STOP, WHO DARES TO TOUCH MY OWN?”

Prince Damon has been at the border defending the country since he was just 14 years old. He knew the art of war and was named the God of battle and war, he won over territories and increased the borderline. Every battle of his ended in conquest, he was not only the best in the country but also the best in taking care of his troops. He has always avoided matters of the court and left everything under the guidance of his father and his 3 other brothers. He has not been to the capital ever since he left. It was a day of celebration, the chariot of the war god rode past the streets of Livingburg with glory and pride, every citizen cheered for him. His carriage arrived.

Damon has been away for a very long time, and things around the capital have taken a drastic change in terms of development. “The castle” Prince Damon ordered the servants. He stepped out of the carriage, his dark fur coat following behind him, He is not a fan of royal attires adorned with gold and precious stones, he has not been dressing as one for the past 10 years, and has been addressed as a prince rather than my lord, sounded odd to him, he could not wait for things to be over and for he to return to the borders. He climbed on Black his personal and favorite horse. It was fast as the light of day and very loyal to him. He headed straight to the slaughter ground where every other person was waiting. 

The closer he got, the weirder he felt, everything seemed to be rather slow, and his wolf whispered “MATE” as soon as his eyes met that of the sacrifice. He could not register when it happened, however, his words left his mouth before he could hold them back.

“STOP, WHO DARES TO TOUCH MY OWN?”