Editing Tears of a Fallen Crown:Characters:Mirage:History (section)

==Chapter 1:  Look Them Not in the Eyes==


Samira’s father smiled at her, but there was fear behind his eyes and that was what scared her the most.  “Be strong.”  He said gently, “And remember, don’t look directly into their eyes.  Show no fear and no mercy – mercy is something they won’t be showing you.  Any time now…be on your guard!”  


The fey had been raiding their city frequently, riding on the backs of horses that seemed as smart and wicked as their riders.  They had come for the young and the beautiful, as always.  As a member of the nobility, Samira and her father were responsible for the well-being of their people and protecting the town was now priority number one.  


She looked down on the unsuspecting villages, on the home of a certain servant of theirs that she very much wanted to protect…and then with a bit of a frown on the secluded and safe home of the man she was betrothed to marry.  It wasn’t that she didn’t care for her fiancé.  He didn’t seem to be a bad man, but she barely knew him and she didn’t like his cowardice.  Still, there had been a complication that recently caused her to wish she had never agreed to the wedding in the first place.  It seemed that the squire of her brother had always cared for her.  All of the times he had teased her and competed against her, it seemed he wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings after all…he just wanted an excuse to be close to her.  And now, he and his family were in danger.


She was quickly snapped out of her daydream as a dark shimmering silhouette appeared over the sand dune.  Her father held his hand up, “Archers, be ready on my command.”  He turned to her, “Samira, I want you to signal the royal guard then return to the keep – that’s an order!”  He had caught Samira’s indignant stare, and knew she meant to disobey him.  “I’m sorry, Samira, but I changed my mind about you fighting.  You were lucky the past two times.  I’ve told you you’re not ready to fight them, now please do as I say!”


With a cold silence, she nodded and climbed down.  She sped her horse as fast as she could toward the royal guard, who were all standing perfectly still awaiting her word.  She said in a commanding voice, “Join my Father at the watchtower.  The first has appeared over the dune.  Show no fear and show no mercy – those are his orders!  Look them not in the eyes!”  They immediately obeyed.  Samira’s voice was as commanding and strong as her fathers, one of her family’s characteristic traits.    


As they rode off in the distance she turned towards the castle – then quickly turned back tossing a black robe over her armor.  “Don’t worry, Dad, you won’t see me saving anyone.”  She said, smiling to herself.  “And no one is going to get me.”


She was right, of course, that no one saw her in the battle.  In fact, in the chaos, it was hard to see anything at all.  The fey had already started their assault by shooting flaming arrows at the thatched roofed buildings.  The smoke was thick in the air, making daylight look like night, and she could hear them cackling madly throughout the flame.  One in particular seemed to be the leader barking orders to his riders, mostly shouting, “Take that one!  Go after the beautiful one…  Burn that cottage next.”  She went in the direction of the voice, sword outstretched.   


She began to see a form in the smoke.  It was a fey, dark skinned with long unnaturally flowing hair.  He had in his hand what looked like a very ornate mirror that was almost hypnotic to look upon.  He also held a huge spear that looked as though it had been formed by the gnarled branches of a dead tree.  He was staring right at her.  Still, she quickly averted her eyes.  


He laughed, a sound which reminded her of fingernails running along a blackboard.  “Clever girl,” he hissed and faced the mirror towards her, looking into it, “Why, what beautiful dreams you have!  I have plans for you…DUNE, DUNE I need your assistance here!  I have another prisoner for you to take.”  


“You won’t find taking me that easily, Bastard!”  Samira said with a snarl.  She was reaching for her lance on the back of her horse.  “Your arrogance will be your undoing.”  


He smiled, “Let’s begin.”


Samira turned her horse around and galloped it straight towards him in full charge, aiming the lance directly at his chest…but suddenly it was as though he wasn’t there.  She didn’t have time to be puzzled as she felt the side of his spear hit her squarely in the back and knock her roughly off her horse.  Her head was swimming in pain, but she heard two voices laughing and the leader saying, “Good work, Dune.  And, good haul today.  Let’s withdraw.  EVERYONE, TO ME!”