Melayna: Chapter One: The White Rose

“Lady, we have found her!” one of the low ranking Shadow Servants had come bursting into Melayna’s room, for which she was very much annoyed.

“I was busy Lorn.” She responded coldly as she closed her journal. “And by her I really hope you mean the Teller that has been causing such a commotion for our father the Shadow Master.”

“None other, Melayna!” he sounded excited, a trait that was not held in high regard amongst the Shadow Servants. They were not taught to feel such petty emotions as excited. Nonetheless she was pleased.

“I will be there presently.”

“But Melayna-“

“That is all. Lorn.” As he left the room she began to gather her things. He should be punished. I won’t kill him as the law declares, but he will have to learn. She opened a drawer by her desk and pulled out a rather nasty looking blade. It was long, thin, and curved with a glistening dark green substance on it. Poision.

Such tools were unnecessary for the Shadow Servants to complete their work. Vene is a fine tool when it comes to torture for what could cause more pain than what was already in your head, but Melayna thought that physical pain could be more useful in places. She closed the drawer and left her room.

Lorn was waiting for her just outside. “I thought I told you to leave.”

“I would have my dark Lady, but our father commanded me.”

“The Shadow Master no longer commands you.” She sighed, the piteous fool should have left her when he had the chance.

“My la-” he broke off into a scream as every bone in his body broke. The blood in his veins turned to razors and cut him from the inside. By the time he fell into a crumpled heap, Melayna had already left the corridor.

 

“Anara!” Melayna glided over to the girl as if she was greeting an old friend instead of a prisoner.

“You have children doing you dirty work now?” she spat at the Shadow Master for Melayna was only thirteen. “You are disgusting!” Anara knew she wouldn’t leave this place alive.

“Melayna is a special girl.” The Shadow Master motioned for her to come to his side. “She is destined to destroy your little resistance, your White Rose.” At that Anara reached out her hand to touch Melayna.

Her own death. The rise of a leader, the fall of another. Two children in a cave. White flowers. An old man with a bright light. A man, woman and an offering. A pair of bright blue eyes on white fur. An old book. And a river of blood. A turned back.

Anara gasped as she was pulled away and the connection was broken. A light in her eyes burned as she saw her fate and the fate of the young girl in front of her. “You will be their downfall.” She looked at Melayna and wanted to say more, but knew it would do nothing.

Melayna stepped foreword again and harshly slapped the teller. “You will tell me what I want to know, but not before it gets to the best part.” She held up the blade glistening in poison. “If you thought I was going to be battling your mind, you were wrong. You see, unlike my friends I use a different method for extracting information. They penetrate your mind through their own vene, whereas I will simply use your gifts against you. Every time this blade penetrates your skin, you will see all of the innocent people it’s killed. That I’ve killed. You will see how they died, who they left behind; all their pain will be transferred into you. And I’ll barely have to lift a finger.” Melayna touched the cool blade to Anara’s skin and immediately she cried out. She saw in one instant a child’s mother begging for mercy. Lovers saying their final goodbyes. A baby being cut.

Melayna lifted the blade. Anara blinded by the tears and pain of those long gone swore at the shadow servant. “Do what you want to me, but the Shadow will fall. I’ve seen it.”

“You all are so willing to die for this. And you will. Each and every single member of your White Rose will die. And you will die for nothing at all.” The Teller’s screams pierced the night’s air as the blade curved down her arm, leaving a thick trail of blood. Not only was she witness to her own torture, but to that of countless victims of Melayna and all previous owners of the blade.

Melayna stopped, seeing her victim unconscious, and ordered one of the men standing by to fetch some water. There was no use torturing someone that couldn’t feel the pain.

Anara’s ragged breaths were comforting, that somehow, even in the dead state of slumber, she was still being tortured. It was too easy though. It didn’t have the escalation of fear and pain that happened when she tortured the others. She stroked Anara’s cheek with the glistening blade and watched her writhe in discomfort. Melayna began to worry that the girl would die before she got the information she wanted.

The man returned with a pale of water, which Melayna used to wake Anara. Gasping and spluttering as the cold water washed over her face and down her bodice. She tried to life her hand to wipe the water from her eyes, but her hands were shackled to the chair of torture.

“Welcome back my dear.” Melayna whispered to the young girl. “This can all end you know, all I need is the name of whomever you pinned to destroy the Shadow. Just one simple name and I will release you, your suffering can end you know.” Melayna stroked the Tellers face gently, but she still screamed in agony. Tears were falling down her face, but still she would not utter the name.

“Would you like to know how you die?” Anara weakly threatened. “You will be tortured and killed and mutilated by the people you now consider friends. And you will be betrayed to your death by someone you love.” A dying flame lit up in Anara’s eyes as she said this. Her last weapon.

“Now you must be wrong. I don’t feel things like love. It is beneath me. Love is some silly obsession for the weak minded, something they have created to give their lives meaning. But the only real truth, the only thing worth living for is power my dear sister.” Melayna paused and glance at the girl she was torturing. “Didn’t you know, we are both descendants of the tyrant king Kronos? I of course am a distant daughter of the king’s first born, his son. And you are the distant child of his w***e the Teller named Mara. We are family you and I.” Anara glared at Melayna. “Are you wondering how I figured it out?” The shadow servant grinned maliciously. “It was simple really. Your eyes are the same color as mine. Grey and unforgiving. It is a particular hue given only to the tyrant king’s children, something we all share. It is also how I found this young boy.” She nodded her head and the shadow servants along the wall dragged in a boy no older than four. “I believe you know him?” Melayna suggested.

“Jeremy!” Anara screamed. Her brother laying half unconscious on the floor, he jerked his head at the sound of his sister’s voice and whimpered a bit.

“How touching”

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on him!” the young Teller threatened.

“Or what?” asked Melayna sarcastically as she touched the boy’s shoulder.“You’ll tell me my future again?” she mocked.

“You want his name?”

“Yes.”

“And only that? You won’t ask for more?” tears were streaming down her face. she was about to betray the only hope the world had left.

“Oh darling I don’t need anymore. Just give me his name and all your suffering will end, and I’ll even let the boy go for kicks too.” She smiled mercilessly.

“Aguro. That’s all I know. And one who is yet to take their name. Please just let my brother go.”

Melayna considered for a moment. “No I think I’ll let you go first.” All of a sudden razors shot through Anara’s blood, slicing her veins and piercing her skin. Her shrieks so terrible that her kid brother started screaming too, and then silence. Anara lay dead in her chair, and Jeremy writing on the floor, screaming and crying. The young shadow servant addressed the men standing on guard around the room. “Get rid of the body. Send the boy back to the White Rose; let him send fear through the rebellion. And tell the Master we have our name."

Author's Note

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