The Blood King

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“Kill them all”

Words used only by men that are in complete charge. Leaders. Kings. Tyrants. Words that were used to wipe out my people. Because they were a growing threat to the throne. Words I never wish to hear again.

My tribe was a thriving group of people. Some would even go as far to say that we were divinely favored. But the way I see it, we were destined for doom the moment we came into existence. We weren’t distinguished by our fighting skill, or our abundant produce. But our physical features. A group of humans with brown skin, but hair that is as white as the first snow, and eyes a crystal blue. A color that would rival any ocean.

I was only four when the kings men came and slaughtered my home. My people. Everything that I knew. My mother somehow managed to get me to safety before using herself as a decoy to save my life. It was days until someone from a neighboring tribe came and found me.

She took me in, raised me as her own, and protected me from the kings wrath. She thought that I would be safe. Safe enough until the day that I would become old enough to travel and leave this part of the world, finding a life away from here. But little did I know, or any of us know, that the new king was making his move on the world. And we would be directly in his path.

I’m running. No sprinting. My legs are pumping and aching from running so hard for so long. But I don’t care. I have to get away. Away from everyone and everything.

Freak. Cursed. Witch.

The kids are so mean to me. Pelting me not only with rocks and twigs, but their insults as well. It’s no secret that I am the last of my kind. No one knows why the king killed them when he did, but I am the lone survivor. If it weren’t for gran taking me in, I would be dead.

But I’d rather be dead than here dealing with this. In my running, I don’t pay attention, and my foot snags on an upturned root, throwing me forward. I roll and smash through the bushes and branches, the momentum carrying me forward. I brace my body for impact, and finally come to a halt when i hit a boulder. Stars explode across my vision, my forehead colliding with the boulder.

“Owwww.” I moan as I sit up, holding my head in pain. I sniffle pathetically, and feel a warm liquid trickling down my face. I quickly swipe at it, revealing blood. My head is throbbing, and I have scrapes and bruises on my knees as well the bruises from the rocks that actually made contact.

I sit up, looking around, and realize that I don’t recognize the area. I’ve run off and gotten myself lost. I look up at the sky, to see it shrouded by the tall trees. There are no markers near me though, so i can’t tell where I am.

I begin walking, not intending on going back. Not in the least. They all hate me, and I’v done nothing but make gran’s life worse as everyone called her a witch lover because of me. So I walk. I keep walking until the sun begins to set, casting an orange glow over the land. I can hear the insects beginning to wake, calling out to each other making a symphony of noises.

My vision is getting blurry, from the amount of blood I am losing, and I can barely feel my legs. I don’t know where i am, and I don’t know which way to go to even begin making my way home. Things will be better this way. Gran will be able to live the rest of her life in peace, and I won’t have to deal with the endless torment and looks of disgust.

A root catches my foot, and I stumble forward, my heart dropping when there isn’t a ground in front of me. my body drops quickly, hitting the ground in a matter of seconds. The breath is knocked out of me as I cry out in pain.

I don’t know how long i lay here, but I realize as I come to, that I’m in a meadow. There are no more trees. Just grass and flowers. I hear footsteps, and people shouting. I look up and I can see the glimmer of armor. Also the glint of steel. They are all yelling in a language that I don’t understand.

Suddenly the shouting stops, and I hear footsteps. They’re different than these men. They’re smooth. Confident. Without hesitation. I blink rapidly trying to clear my vision, but to no avail.

"Rit Suri Leuroya.” The words whip through the air, chilling my spine. I feel hands on my arms, hauling me up. My head lolls forward, and I feel cold fingers on my chin, forcing my head up. My eyes widen.

I’ve never seen anything like this. This man is unique. Pitch black hair that is falling down past his waist, with a hanging braid near his ear. There are symbols engraved on his face, but only on the left side, wrapping around his throat and disappearing into the fabric of his clothing. But his eyes.

Where they should be white, it’s dark. A Smokey black. Like a demon. And his iris is such a beautiful color. A gradient from black to gray starting from the edge, and an almost red that encircles his iris.

His eyes shift from my face to the blood crusted on my forehead. He stands, saying something to his men, and they let me go. I drop to the grass, sitting up to look him in the eyes. He makes a strange expression, and squats in front of me.

“You’re lost little girl.” His voice is terrifying. Grating on my nerves. When he smiles, I can she his razor sharp canines. Almost like fangs. I don’t know if he’s asking me, or telling me, but all I can do is nod my head.

“Where did you come from.” I take note that he speaks differently than gran’s people. His words are accented. I don’t open my mouth. Gran always told me to keep where I live a secret. People would rat us out to the king, and he will kill me and all of them for harboring me. So I shake my head, which makes his smile widen.

He reaches out to me, and I immediately flinch away, but he only pats my head softly.

“A rare sight indeed. Where are the rest of your people?” He asks me.

“D-dead...” I manage. He raises a brow. “T-the blood king killed my people.” I stutter. He smiles, and a laugh escapes him.

“I know the history little girl. What I want to know, is why you are here when the king killed all of you off.” He says calmly. My eyes widen in fear as I realize the severity of my situation. Tears well up in my eyes, and I shake my head vigorously.

“Please... don’t kill me..” I sob. Fear coils up inside of me as I look this man in the eyes, pleading for my life. He stares me down without an ounce of emotion on his face. And it’s scary. I’ve never seen a person that looks like this before. He doesn’t look completely human. There’s something ancient about him. Not only that, but he has such a savage glint in his gaze.

“What is your name little girl.” He says. I bite the inside of my cheek trying to staunch my tears.

“Neytiri.” I say. My voice comes out shaky and barely above a whisper. But he hears me.

“You are very lucky, Neytiri. Very, very lucky.” He reaches up, placing his flat palm against my forehead. I feel a pinch, where my cut is, and then the world goes black

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