The Runaway Chronicles: Born from Ashes

Enori never meant to save the woman she was supposed to kill. With a highly feared assassin as a father figure, she just needs to prove herself, prove that she's worthy of his love. However, the more she falls for her target, the more Enori starts to slowly crumble as an evil takes over her that she doesn't want, but can't control. Asher just wanted the love of his life back. How was he supposed to be a Medic if he ended up hurting those he loved, including his late fiance? When you lose everything, personalities change, and Asher struggles to cope with his loss. Now his only goal is to keep those he loves safe, even if that means becoming a monster. Kodiak never knew who he truly was. An assassin? The Lieutenant of the Night Fortress? With his best friend in danger, what would he do to make things right? When a weirdly familiar newcomer visits the fortress, Kodiak begins to get strange memories, and soon he realizes this newcomer might be holding secrets that he doesnt want revealed. Hunter Ozari, Commander of the Night Fortress, only after one thing: revenge for his dead family, even if that means killing the woman he used to love. The woman who took his world from him. When you've lost everything, morals no longer matter and casualties become mere inconveniences. In a world dividing one must do the unthinkable to survive. And all of them must face a war none of them are ready for.

Last Updated

05/31/21

Chapters

5

Reads

275

ENORI

Chapter 4

꧁༒☬ENORI☬༒꧂





Enori groaned as chain chafed against skin, a hard tug on her wrists waking her up. Her eyes shot open, and she grimaced as she met the face of the dark haired Spirit. “Must you be the first face I see when I open my eyes?” She hissed, her body aching in response as she sat up.


 


She was still chained to the bed—in fact, they had chained her ankles as well after Enori’s latest threat—though they had been kind enough to put cloth between the iron chains to prevent any more wounds. 


 


Alaire scowled, her bright eyes glaring daggers at Enori as she unchained the binds from the bed. “You should be grateful you get to see the light of day.” The soldier snapped. 


 


“Are all High Spirits just as lovely as you, or did the goddess just appoint you Queen of Bitchery?” Enori gave a devilish grin, though gritted her teeth as her chains were tugged again, forcing her to stand. 


 


“Oh, it’s just her.” 


 


Enori turned to the owner of the amused voice, eyes narrowing as Katrina came into view, just exiting the bathrooms. Her hair was wet, falling down her back as beads of water dripped onto the floor, and she walked carefully as not to slip. She was now dressed in a rather plain blue dress with skirts far too long for the muddy streets of Mezida, a belt around her waist with attached sheaths and pouches to conceal her weapons and money.  “We will head into Mezdia first, dock one of the slavers' ships. It will take us to the outskirts of Corinth,  and then you will take us to your Commander.” 


 


Enori tried to hide the small tinge of fear that rushed through her. Mezdia, although a small city, was filled with Sinistrian guards. The moment they saw her and realized she was an assassin working outside of her jurisdiction, she’d be arrested and sent to the King, where she’d never see anything but the walls of the royal cells. Then again, Hunter would tear the castle down brick by brick to get her out. Surely the king wouldn’t risk the commander’s lethal rage?

Either way, she’d gladly swallow a handful of Daydream pills before ever allowing herself to become a slave to the King. If there was anything she learned from Hunter, it was that pride was all one could hold onto in an enslaved world. “Magic is illegal there, you know.”


 


Alaire turned to face Enori as Katrina gathered their things. “Sinistrian guards cannot arrest a Spirit, magic or no magic. Besides, you will be posing as our prisoner anyway.”


 


Enori scowled deeply as she pulled back. “I’d much rather you kill me. I will not play as some slave for the guards’ amusement! I am an assassin–”


 


“And a Dark Fae.” Katrina added. “You being our prisoner is the only way to keep you alive. You may be Commander Ozari’s pet, but the king will not hesitate to make an example of you.” 


 


It was true. Technically, according to the Archaic Laws created by the gods, no one was to ever be killed, arrested, nor discriminated against due to magic or species. But that was before the Great Inferni. Before the humans took over and abolished everything that had once made Sinistria so beautiful. Before the kings after fell into corruption and saw more money in slave trades and black market gambling than in protecting their people.


 


Fire burned at Enori’s core just thinking about the human king who now sat on the throne. “Neither of you can exactly pass as guards. They’ll kill you both for smuggling.” 


 


A sharp scoff escaped Katrina’s lips as she turned to the door, pulling out a long, twisted key. She spoke over her shoulder as she unlocked the door. “You let us worry about that.”


 


Enori was half dragged out of the room, though she kept note of the pocket that Katrina slipped the key into. Idiot. She hadn’t even tried to be discreet. The Fae’s dark eyes scanned her surroundings, though there wasn’t much to look at as they passed down the corridor. Every door just led to a room, not an exit. But all she needed was a shift, a slack in Alaire’s grip on her chains to pull away and kill them both.


 


Perhaps she could use the key, go for the soft spot in their necks; or use one of the knives at Katrina’s sheathes. But using her hands would be so much more fun. She couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of her wrapping the chains around the Spirit’s neck, watching the life drain from her eyes. Enori decided Alaire would be killed first.


 


They walked down the spiral steps that led to the tavern, and Enori was immediately hit with the pungent smells of beer, must, and questionable porridge. Grimacing, she followed her captors through the crowd of drunken men and towards the front of the bar.


 


Enori kept her eyes on the crowd as Katrina waved over the owner to pay for their stay. Surely her captor was not oblivious to the beady eyes that watched as she handed a batch of glistening silver coins? The Dark Fae’s eyes narrowed with each passing man, though rage formed in her chest as she noticed the young women weaving their way through, carefully dodging the curious hands of the customers. The women looked so young…hell, were they even women yet? How many of these girls were slaves, or castaways with nowhere else to go? 


 


A bitterness grew inside of the Fae as she watched one of the customers forcefully grab at one of the servants, pulling her down onto his lap and whispering something in her ear.


 


Enori was moving before she had actually thought about it, but, just as her fists clenched, just as the customer’s eyes shifted to her, a harsh tug on her chains brought Enori back. She whirled her head around, glaring daggers at the frowning Spirit, who carefully shook her head in warning.



Clicking her tongue, Enori stalked back, words coming out like venom. “I will not stand here and allow that pig to-”


 


“We cannot draw any more attention than needed.” Alaire whispered, though Enori could have sworn there was some solemness there. “Besides,” she paused before following Katrina towards the exit, “It is not our place to interfere.”


 


“Does such an excuse help you sleep at night?” The Dark Fae hissed in response, which resulted in a yank on her chains that burned through the bandages on her wrists. 


 


“Do you ever shut up?” Katrina snapped from up ahead as they exited the tavern. Enori was nearly blinded by the sunlight that hit her face, and she suddenly regretted her choice of clothing as the unrelenting heat immediately sunk in. 


 


“You need me alive, clearly, which means I get to talk as much as I want.” Enori said with a wide grin, ignoring the look from her captors as they walked. Despite the heat, the fae was delighted to leave the raunchy tavern. Here, in the town, rows and rows of carts lined the buildings, creating a beautiful rainbow of spices, herbs, desserts, clothes, shoes, and more. She usually strayed from this area, seeing that she was a fae, but occasionally she’d sneak out of the fortress, a cloak to hide her wings and horns, and gawk at the exotic items from kingdoms across the world. Besides, when there weren’t royal guards around, none of the merchants particularly seemed to care who or what she was as long as she paid. 


 


Her favorite carts were always the ones with jewels: the glistening gemstones calling her name, gold and silver ornamenting the sapphire rings; ruby necklaces so gorgeous Enori felt like they were almost too precious to be worn. And then there were the dresses: fabrics woven with delicate hands and precise eyes, skirts sweeping and flowing like a colorful circle of waves. Considering her occupation, Enori didn’t have many opportunities to wear such lavish clothing, but her favorite missions were always ones that required balls. Granted, someone always died at any ball she attended, but that never stopped her from enjoying herself, twirling around the ballroom with a man—or woman—that caught her eye. 


 


Despite the situation she was in—and despite the fact that she was contemplating the many ways she could kill the two women a skewer—Enori couldn’t help but smile as they approached a vendor selling silks and patterns from unknown and uncharted lands. She tugged against Alaire’s  pull, reaching out and delicately picking up one of the sample cloths.


 


“Saints, where on earth did you find this? It’s exquisite.” Enori asked.


 


The merchant looked her up and down, and she noticed the way the lanky old man looked from her wings and horns to her captors, and then to her chains. Katrina and Alaire must have noticed Enori had stopped moving, because the fae was met with a forceful backhand—one that both startled and enraged her.

The skewer would make a beautiful weapon. 


 


“Did I tell you to speak, kahgni?” Katrina spat out.


 


Kahgni. A slur Enori heard far too many times. An insult to her people, to her magic. Bitterness grew inside of her, and Enori had managed to slip the sharp skewer between her fingers, prepared to sink it into Katrina’s neck before she finally saw what the woman was glancing over to.


 


Guards. Sinistrian guards. Enori turned back to Katrina and lowered her gaze, swallowing her pride enough to play the part of a broken slave. “I’m sorry…” She whispered, shuffling along as the Alaire pulled way harder on her chains than needed.


 


They were unfortunately going in the exact direction of the guards, who were currently blocking their path to the docks. It wasn’t surprising, of course, ever since the last Witch uprising. The king had ordered for checkpoints to be posted around every city border to ensure that no Witches could pass without being caught. What the king forgot, however, were the docks that led directly to Mezdia. In assuming that no one other than trained pirates would cross those waters, he caused Mezdia to be nearly wiped off the map. Since then, Sinistrian guards routinely patrolled the docking areas. 


Enori resisted the urge to lift up her chin, keeping her eyes on her feet as she staggered behind Katrina and the Spirit companion. The closer they walked, the stronger the scent of salt and brisk air filled the fae’s nostrils, and the more her fists clenched. She could see the freshly polished boots of the Sinistrian guard out of the corner of her eye, caught a flash of gold glinting in the sun from one of the many medals on the guards’ uniforms. 


 


A few more paces and they’d be on the boat. It was a commotion of sounds: hurried footsteps, rustling of paper as people searched for their tickets in their pockets, yelling from the captain and his crew, and cargo being hauled onto the ship so loud that it sounded like a thunderstorm.


 


A few more paces closer to Enori’s goal.


 


“Stop right there.”


 


Once again Enori resisted the urge to look up, but she didn’t have to anyway. From the agitation and undeserved pridefulness in the tone, she knew it was one of the guards. “What’s your business?” Enori didn’t need to look up to feel the guard’s eyes boring into her.


 


“We’ve captured this one, in the deep woods.” Katrina spoke, though her accent had changed to something thick and accentuated. “Figured we could turn her in once we get to the Sinistrian Capitol.” 


 


“Your documentation?”


 


A soft rustling of papers, then some silence. “You aren’t guards. Under the law, you’re required to turn any captive in to the Sinistrian guard. She’ll be tried in the Sinistria c-”


 


There was some surprising sharpness to Katrina’s voice. “Also, according to the law, as bounty hunters we have the authority to do as we like as long as we are working under a documented organization.” 


 


There was more rustling of papers, then a firm, calloused hand gripped Enori by the chin, forcing her face upward. Her eyes met the piercing, emotionless green ones of the guard. His uniform was clean in the red, black and gold of the kingdom crest, his medals taking up half of the uniform itself. Yet his breath and his eyes and his voice reeked of death and destruction. 


 


Still, she did not waver, her eyes narrowing into the most murderous glare she could give. The guard scowled, giving a look of pure disgust. “She’ll need to be stripped and checked before she can board. We can’t afford to bring any diseased on the ship.” His head cocked to the side as he looked her face over, and the way his finger caressed her cheek made the Dark ae want to vomit. “I could take her off your hands. Be a shame for her to be hung on a wall when we could make better use of her.”


 


He looked back up to Katrina and Alaire. If they were disgusted by his offer, they surely didn’t show it. Enori spoke before any of them could. “I’d like to see you fucking try.” She hissed.


 


The Dark Fae doubled over with a stifled groan as the guard’s fist hit her stomach, her torso aching with brief pain. “I am a General you filthy whore. You do not speak to me unless I require you to.” 


 


She slowly looked back up, this time with a devilish grin plastered on her face. “Perhaps. But all you’ll be is a dead man six feet under after I k-” The sharp sting of iron against chafed skin made her shut up. She could see the fiery glare from the Spirit.


 


“We unfortunately don’t have the time to wait for her to be checked.” Alaire replied cooly. She took the pouch from her hip, handing it to the guard. “Surely this will be enough for your troubles? We’ll see to it that she’s punished for her foul mouth.” 


 


The guard looked from Enori, then back to her two captors, eyes narrowing to thin slits. There was no surprise when he tucked the money pouch away and motioned for them to board. 


 


Enori couldn’t hide her distaste once they boarded the ship. She was surrounded by slavers, who all stared at her as is she was less than them. The rattle of chains filled her ears, the low groans of other slaves tugging at her heart. The entire ship reeked of things Enori would rather not think about, and the smell only got worse as she was half-dragged below deck.


 


Questionable liquid dripped from the low ceilings, her stomach rising to her throat as her boots sloshed in vomit and shit. She would’ve rather slept in a sewer. But the smells seemed insignificant as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she saw the cages.


 


Hands were wrapped around the bars; some old and frail, some smooth and young, but all of the faces looked the same: fear filled and tattered with bruises. Enori’s jaw clenched, and though she couldn’t see Alaire or Katrina’s expressions behind her, she could feel the way Alaire’s grip slightly faltered on the chains.


 


“Stay here.” Katrina ordered, departing back up the steps. It only took a few moments before she returned, this time with the captain. He passed by Enori as if she were invisible, but she carefully eyed the keys in his hand that he unlocked one of the cages with.


 


Left back pocket, third key on the right, green handle. She’d remember that.


 


With a harsh shove, she was propelled forward into a cage with eight other slaves, their faces almost unrecognizable with dirt, blood, and tears. None of them were fae as far as she could tell. From the intricate gleaming tattoos on their bodies, it seemed most of the captives were Witches and Warlocks. How many of these people would be killed? How many would have a worse fate?


 


As she averted her gaze from their dark eyes, Enori had two thoughts: one, that her favorite uniform was now ruined, and two, that the captain never locked the door to the lower deck.


 


Enori looked down at the rusty key in her hand, eying the green handle with a soft smirk. Tonight would be fun.

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