Iron of the Innocent: Mistress of Agony

By Daniel Bastion

Iron of the Innocent, Volume 2: Mistress of Agony.

Dreydan Ruin struggles with a tumultuous life. He decides to visit the family estate. Prior to his departure, a meeting to express his gratitude for rescue results in a new friend with unexpected answers.

Tarn Silvershield returns from war to find another adventure waiting for him. Joined by several companions, he sets out to seek a friend that may be in need.

Shydler Wresgoth finds himself exiled after his escape. Critically injured, he lingers in convalescence until an inspector requests assistance. An arcane touched blade with a familiar pommel leads him to disturbing discoveries.

Dalora Blacksword arrives in Solorn. Confrontation forces her down a path that distracts and delays until the answers she seeks may slip from her grasp.

From within the mists of history, the harvest has ripened. Darkness gathers, fire rises, and the cup is filled. Yet, light and hope may be found in the depths of stone among the ruins.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781365949197

Book preview

Chapter 1: The Apprentice

274 I.C.

Balindos

Caegoroth Kingdom

Cor Wresgoth Estate

Shydler

Thousands of magical, fiery sparks drifted slowly down and faded when Shydler Wresgoth teleported away.  Small pieces of the door behind him peppered the porch where the bolt of energy from Silence’s wand struck, and crimson drops of the mage’s blood left a splatter of macabre art over the door’s surface.  Silence slowly lowered her twisted, thorny wand with sadness and distance in her eyes.  She tried to kill him, and a cold numbness filled her heart and thoughts.

The small ball of green energy that flew into the air from Shydler’s hand came to a stop.  It demanded everyone’s attention except the priestess. It pulsed with energy and a low, deep sound vibrated the air and ground beneath their feet.  The magistrix listened to what sounded like a hollow, slow inhale of breath as the magic began drawing in and devouring arcane currents.

The sound increased exponentially in intensity, as did the magical, burning green light coming from the orb. Flashes of arcane lightning struck the ground beneath it, sending dirt and chunks of earth into the air.  The magistrix did not recognize the exact spell, but Shydler’s words echoed in her memory.  Run! she cried.

Silence felt the magistrix grab her arm and magic swirled around them as she cast her own teleport spell.  They appeared on the deck of one of the black ships off the coast.  Silence swayed, disoriented by the arcane travel.  The woman next to her tried to wrap an arm around her in support, but Silence took a couple of steps forward.  She grabbed onto the railing and looked toward Shydler’s home.

All the sound around Silence seemed suppressed for a few moments until the bright flash appeared.  A green burst of energy exploded where the magistrix and Silence stood moments before in front of Shydler’s estate.  The roar of the explosion slammed into those on the ship as they watched the flaming energy expand.  Silence could feel the intense heat, and as the energy touched the water of the ocean, it vaporized into steam.

The blast wave raged toward them, engulfing the ship closest to shore, shattering it, and burning the pieces to ash. Then the second ship fell prey to the firestorm.  Torn to pieces, it incinerated into a cloud of charred dust.    Silence held onto the rail in front of her as the green fire and boiling water approached.  All she could do was cry out without words to her deity for protection, and as the flames churned over her, she turned her head.

The magistrix’s mouth was open in a scream when the fire and shock wave ripped her clothing and flesh from her skeleton.  Silence saw her bones for a split second before they blackened and shattered with everything else.  Deafened by the sound of the consuming fire, Silence felt the wood beneath her feet and railing in her hands crumble.  She felt herself lifted up off the deck of the ship and thrown by the blast.  One moment she was in the air, and the next she landed, submerged in the sea.

Silence felt nothing for a number of moments being dazed and incoherent.  Then suddenly, the water felt very cold as her senses returned.  She felt weighed down in her heavy, wet robes.  Struggling to swim upward, she experienced the sensation of suffocation.  Panic threatened to take hold of her.  Her body was trying to take a breath, but she fought against it.  When she finally broke the surface, she gasped heavily.

It took her a few moments to get a grasp of her situation.  She was floating in a dense layer of ash, dust, and debris.  The smell was terrible.  Light from the fires on shore gave her direction and lit up the vast cloud of smoke lifting up into the sky.  The green color of the fire was gone, and only the bright orange, yellow, and blue of normal flame remained.

The priestess slowly made her way to the shoreline, a good distance away from the area of destruction, and when she crawled out of the water on to the blackened sands, she found herself covered in oily muck and filth.  Breathing heavily with exertion, she glanced to her right coughing.  The sandy areas of the beach below the estate shimmered and reflected the light of the flames in their dark, glassy surface, and molten rock oozed into the steaming water.

Rolling onto her back, she looked up at the heavy, black smoke and the contrast of the clear sky with its bright stars.  Silence warned them, but they would not listen.  Shydler was a powerful mage, and their hubris led to their destruction.  She knew he was dangerous, but she did not know to what extent.  The image of him standing there on the porch was vivid in her mind, and she saw the pain in his eyes as he surveyed the crowd.

I told you to kill him, a powerful, female voice whispered into her mind.

I couldn’t, Silence whispered.

Your emotions got in the way.  I should have let you burn for your disobedience.

*  *  *  *  *

Sacren

Shelvor Valley

Shelvor Castle

The light from the glowing blue, magical portal pulsed with intensity and energy rippled across the black stone surrounding the gateway.  Splashing against the black steps, the energy moved like liquid.  A hooded, black robed man with one hand wrapped around a dark wood staff and his other pressing a dark cloth to his side appeared on the threshold of the gate.  As he stepped through, the portal’s energy clung to him for a moment before releasing its touch. 

Shydler drew in a deep breath feeling the ragged, twisting pain from the wound in his side.  He felt very drained.  Moving slowly forward he looked around.  The gate room was much smaller than the cavernous one he left.  The statue like guardians circling the inset platform turned toward him, their magical blades extending from their hands.  He held his staff higher, and his ring kept them at bay.

Everything was as he remembered, but there were no human guards here.  The only exit from the room was a set of large, double metal doors, but they appeared barred from the inside.  The tapestries that Shydler remembered were no longer hanging from the walls.  It was very quiet outside of the portal’s low, audible murmuring. 

Shydler carefully walked up the few steps to the main floor, passed the sentinels that turned to follow him with their smooth faces, and got a closer look at the closed exit.  He could sense the powerful magic that permeated the room on the doors as well.  Glancing at the floor, he could tell it had been a long while since someone entered the area.  He left footsteps in the layer of undisturbed dust as he walked.

The mage gestured toward the doors and the thick bar that kept them closed raised with a smooth motion.  Opening on their own, the doors parted in silence allowing Shydler to leave the gate room.  He did so without looking back.  A flood of emotions threatened to break through the barrier of protection that he had put in place as thoughts of his lost life whispered in the background of his mind.

Moving forward, the mage pushed the thoughts away, and they quieted some when he left the room.  He was barely aware the doors quietly closed behind him as the scene before him came as a shock.  Where there had once been a strong castle, Shydler now stood among rubble and ruins open to the sky above.  The mage was not sure the time of day, but the light appeared to be fading into the west.

Walking a few steps among the destruction, Shydler gazed on several dead, rotting defenders of the castle in their broken armor with blood stained tabards and cloaks.  They wore the dark blue colors of the Guardian order.  Several vultures took flight from their ghastly meals as the mage approached.  The corpses he found, their deaths were recent.

Glancing back, Shydler noticed that the thick, metal doors to the portal room had sustained damage from something, but the magic kept them intact.  Even the stones of the room looked like they had been hacked at with axes and picks, and there were several broken tools scattered about.  The spells of protection did their job.

Turning, the mage made his way through the rubble along what had once been a wide, grand hall.  Now it was destroyed and filled with broken stones, broken shields, and rotting bodies.  The still, cool air smelled of old ash and decay.  It was a reminder that no matter how secure a person may feel there is always the possibility of destruction.

The quiet of the ruins broke as Shydler drew closer to what had been the outer walls.  Moving carefully, he looked out from the shattered wood and iron of the demolished front gates.  Below him before the castle was a vast army.  Their campfires illuminated tents and colorful flags as the light from above faded.  The mage observed their siege engines, equipment, wagons, horses, fortifications, and listened to their noise.  From the look of it, the army had been there for a while.

Leaning against the cold stone of the arch above him, Shydler felt light headed and exhausted.  Looking down he drew the cloth from his wound and noticed his robes saturated with blood on that side.  The mage cursed softly knowing his wound was more serious than he first thought.  He had hoped to find respite here, but that option was gone.

*  *  *  *  *

10 years in the past…

You’re a good boy, Magistrix Naurey whispered.  Unlike others, this cabin on the ship was spacious and luxurious.  It was one of the few that housed wealthy and important passengers.  The walls stretched to each side of the vessel and curved with the hull.  Carved wooden doors with small glass panes, opened and secured, allowed the fresh, salty air inside.  It was dark outside.  The room had a comfortable sitting area with couches, a work desk decorated with a candelabra that was burning low, a table for dining, a vanity, and a large bed.   

The hand stitched, warm quilts and other linen were clean.  Several soft pillows lay on the bed.  Shydler relaxed on his back watching Magistrix Naurey as he tried to steady his swirling vision and beating heart.  Wielding arcane magic was difficult, taxing, and draining for those who learned its secrets.  The sound of the ocean and ship faded into the background completely.  His eyes slowly moved over her as he made eye contact.  She was standing next to the bed looking down at him.

Naurey smiled sweetly and caressed his hair gently with her left hand.  You are a fast learner, she said with a tone of encouragement.

Shydler simply nodded his appreciation at her comment.

Naurey was in her twenties, and she had long, straight blond hair.  Her full, pink lips drew into a small grin.  She reached over and picked up a dark vial from the side table.  Removing the stopper, she brought it to his lips.  Open, she whispered. Shydler opened his mouth a little, and Naurey allowed a single drop of the dark liquid inside to fall. 

This was not the first time he received this reward.  It tasted sweet to him like before, and he waited for what was to come.  Glancing toward the open door, the stars appeared to grow brighter, and Naurey watched as Shydler’s eyes dilated far beyond normal.  She grinned. 

The blood vessels in his eyes began to get darker until they were as black as his pupils. A deep sigh of pleasure drifted from him as his eyes unfocused.  The veins beneath his warm skin began to get darker as well, beginning in his face and moving downward.

You are an excellent apprentice, Naurey whispered, I’m going to teach you everything I know. She continued in a soft voice, The arcane will make you powerful.  And in return you will do as I ask in all things and serve my every need.

As you wish, Magistrix, Shydler murmured, his words fading as the magical intoxicant pumped through his veins. His eyes roamed in nothingness.

And when you are good, you will be rewarded, she whispered as she slowly sat down in a chair next to the bed.  One of Shydler’s hands gripped the side of the mattress.  A long, intense gasp escaped from him.

Shydler had been on board the vessel for a week when he met Magistrix Naurey.  He was on a trip with a man who helped the orphanage with donations in return for labor, but that was never an official arrangement.  It went unspoken.  The man enjoyed the children calling him ‘uncle,’ but being an angry, older teen Shydler refused to give him that honor.

Shydler had offered to assist Naurey with a heavy bag when she came on board at one of the stops the ship made on the voyage.  She handed the bag to him and led the way to her quarters without even one word of affirmation.  Her quarters were the best on the ship.  Before he left, she stopped him and asked him some questions about himself.  After learning about his background, she said she could sense a strong arcane aura permeating his presence.

The magistrix looked him over as she walked slowly around her chamber.  Shydler felt a touch of nervousness as she did so in silence.  Come back tomorrow, she said, I’d like to perform some tests to determine your viability as an apprentice.

Shydler appeared unbelieving.  Really? he managed to say.

Naurey nodded, Yes, she said turning to her luggage.  You’re dismissed.  She spoke nothing else and did not pay him any more attention.  He might have been invisible to her at that point.

The next day Shydler returned to her quarters, and Naurey conducted some testing for mental ability and arcane potential.  She did not say anything positive or negative during the tests.  When she was done, she dismissed him again with the instructions to return the following day along with whomever was responsible for him.  Then she again ignored him.

The next day, Shydler returned with his ‘uncle’ as instructed.  It was a long meeting and Magistrix Naurey received guardianship over her new apprentice.  Shydler wanted to become her apprentice, so there was not much his pretend uncle could do to hinder the process.  He would inform the orphanage on his return to Clendon.

After they were alone, Naurey instructed Shydler to sit in a chair and be quiet.  He did so.  It was hard to sit there silently as he overflowed with excitement and happiness at the granted opportunity.  Someone finally saw his value.  He was really going to learn something that interested him.

Naurey was wearing simple, dark blue robes common to mages, and her blond hair was braided and hanging down her back.  A few smaller braids hung down behind each of her ears.  After giving Shydler his instructions, she took a seat and her blue eyes read a large tome on the desk.  Her arms rested in front of her as she absorbed the written material on the pages.

Shydler soon grew bored and restless, but he tried hard to stay quiet and sit in his chair.  A long while passed, and the boy lost track of time.  He decided to pass the long winded silence by watching the movement of the ocean beyond the windows, but that did not take the edge off of his impatience.

Finally, he decided to let his mind wander over all of the detail of the cabin.  Learning to observe and truly look at the various objects in the room was a skill taught to him at his previous school by one of his teachers.  He shined when complimented for his attention to detail during his examination.

He returned to his surroundings when Naurey spoke. Part of a mage’s training is to learn patience, she said. You must be patient because learning magic takes time and complete dedication to the arts.

Shydler looked at her as she spoke, and her intense eyes made him feel very inadequate. 

Your first lesson is to sit in that chair quietly with good posture until I say otherwise.  Do you understand? she asked.

Yes, Shydler managed to say after swallowing.

And you will address me as Magistrix from now on.  Do you understand? she demanded with authority in a strong, cold voice.

Shydler nodded looking apologetic.  Yes, Magistrix.

The next two weeks on board the ship was grueling.  The new apprentice spent secluded days in the chair from the time he arrived until the time he left looking around the room, looking out at the ocean, and watching Magistrix Naurey study.  He grew to hate the hard wood, unyielding chair, and after some time it became painful to sit in the proper position for so long.  When he was allowed to leave each day, he had a hard time walking.

The next phase began when Magistrix Naurey ordered him to clean her quarters, and everything had to be absolutely immaculate.  If not, he was required to clean the entire room again.  She made him wash the linen on her bed by hand, and her dirty clothes including her delicate undergarments. He was ordered to shine her shoes, clean her jewelry, and remove the trash, among other activities.  Then he was returned to the chair.

Two weeks came and went slowly, but at the end of it, Shydler received a reward.  Magistrix Naurey put a black box on the table and ordered Shydler to come stand before her.  She took a seat on the opposite side of the table from him and opened the container.  Reaching inside she slowly lifted a glassy, black ball about three times the size of her palm.  She set it on the table before her and whispered arcane words of power as her fingers slid over its surface.  Her hands began to glow white with black smoke wrapping around and through the aura.

Only a few moments passed as the black ball shimmered in the light coming through the exterior cabin door.  Then the surface of the orb began to fall away like dust until only a black vial remained on the table.  It appeared to be made from a dark crystal.  Like this latest reward, she ordered him to lay on the bed, and a single drop was administered.  He could not see the exterior result of the magical elixir, but he could feel its euphoric, warm fluid submerge him.

The week after his first reward, his days filled with arcane instruction, theory, and demonstration as well as different chores including bringing Magistrix Naurey her food and drink.  This would become a regular, daily routine.  That day was the first time he attempted to draw arcane power within him.  It had only been a few moments, but he was successful.  Hence, the dark reward was administered.

*  *  *  *  *

Sacren

Solorn Kingdom

Solorn Province

City of Clendon

The present…

The shadows faded and stretched as the sun slowly slipped behind the western, ice capped mountains. A man wearing official Clendon city colors was lighting oil lamps hung on posts lining the cobbled street.  His city uniform was well cared for and put on each evening with precision.  He had an important duty, and he fulfilled his role for many years.

The steps of the mage stronghold, illuminated by their own magical lamps, did not require oil.  Arcane energy lit them exactly when the evening darkness began to fall. The Clendon official eyed them with snooty disapproval as he passed by on his rounds, and he cast suspicious glances at the fortress protecting its questionable, robed residents.  Several of its denizens enjoyed the evening outside, standing in small groups speaking to one another quietly on the grassy lawn and stairs leading up to its gates.

There was a brief flash of light that forced the older gentleman's eyes to close suddenly. The light was caused by a thousand fiery sparks that came together to form a robed figure, not unlike those who were now looking his direction with obvious curiosity. The man swayed and leaned heavily on his wooden staff looking around.

After a few moments, he took several steps forward, but he did not make it far before he stumbled. He sank to one knee, coughing heavily.  The Clendon official heard him speak, but he did not hear him clearly. A couple of the robed apprentices moved toward him. Then the man summoned the strength to speak louder, I need help, Shydler said.

Chapter 2: The Fighter

274 I.C.

Sacren

Solorn Kingdom

Solorn Province

City of Clendon

Dreydan, Bethahna, and Reasha

The young soldier, Dreydan Ruin, kept all his gear and belongings stowed and packed on Hands, his horse.  He did not have much, so the strong warhorse’s burden of weight was light.  Dreydan ran a hand over the horse’s light brown, shiny coat as he spoke kind words to the animal.  The sounds of the horse munching away on the extra oats he had given the gelding echoed in the small barn, and a gentle breeze passed through the open door rustling the hay.  Twilight had fallen, and the fullness of night would soon embrace the city.

Dreydan sighed as he glanced down at the letter in his hand.  He was already getting off to the estate later than he wanted, as he had to take care of some chores his father asked him to do.  Despite being late, he decided it was time to read the letter from the folks who delivered him to Vaxtin Outpost.  Breaking the seal, he pulled the small, folded parchment out and opened it.

Flipping the parchment over and then back, Dreydan looked puzzled.  There was only one line written in a beautiful, flowing script.  It said, "Inn of Clendon, basement.  Meet me. – Bethahna."

Dreydan took a deep breath, Okay, he said to himself.  As soon as Hands finished his oats and drank some water, the soldier put on the horse’s halter and led the way out of the barn.  The stars began to appear as the last rays of sun disappeared.  The soldier mounted the horse with ease and goaded him forward after securing the barn door.

The illuminated windows of his parent’s house glowed with light from lamps or candles, but he did not see anyone through the windows as he passed by.  He saw his father earlier in the day but not his mother or Tabitha.  He did not mention the attack from the previous night nor the mandatory medical leave.  He was tired of talking and just wanted to get away quietly.

The neighborhood was quiet, and he turned his attention to getting to his destination.  When Hands reached the street, Dreydan looked back at the house for a moment.  There was someone at one of the front windows, but he could not tell who it was.  The lamp light backlit the figure and all he could see was a silhouette.  He raised a hand in farewell but there was no response.

*  *  *  *  *

Embers of glowing fire twirled upward as the innkeeper, Geldrick, dropped two heavy logs in the hearth.  The fireplace was constructed from rough stone mortared together, and the opening was like a gaping maw with tongues of fire licking at the chimney.  The burning logs crackled and groaned under the weight of the new ones, but they did not break, being thick and strong.  The fire kept the inn’s common room warm and cozy.

Geldrick was old, but he still had a spring in his step.  He moved across the common room to the bar without so much as a wobble.  No one knew how old he was, but some whispered about him being over a hundred.  Some even speculated he had dwarf, elf, or some other long lived creature mixed into him.  His business, The Inn of Clendon, was the oldest and most respected inn within miles.  However, Geldrick did not let that go to his head to wash him in complacency.  He kept the prices low and the quality high.  That was the reason so many people called Geldrick’s home.

The man was thin and wiry, but his appearance was misleading.  He could lift a tray of food quicker than any of the younger lads or lasses who looked much stronger.  Many even joked that a stiff wind would snap Geldrick right in half if he were careless.  He was quite tall with white bushy eyebrows, moustache, and beard.  His eyes were clear and piercing.  Those who came to stir up trouble would get ‘Geldrick’s look’ and the end of Geldrick’s vicious club pointed at them.  They would head for the door just as quickly as they came.

The inn was located in the northwest side of the city of Clendon within the walls on the main road north to Solorn Castle.  It had not always been there, but Geldrick rebuilt there after a fire burned all of the central part of the city two decades before.  Moreover, Geldrick liked the unobstructed view of the mountains much better.

He gazed out of the back window beyond the wall, despite the coming night hindering his view, toward the majestic mountains in the distance and smiled.  After a few moments of thought, he grabbed the rag on the bar and started wiping up a bit of a spill.  His newest barmaid had slopped some ale onto the bar when taking the newest occupants of the common room their drinks.  The inn was crowded and busy.

Dreydan entered the common room from the front entrance to the inn.  His big frame clothed in a layered dark blue tunic, dark brown leather belt, dark brown pants, and traveling boots.  The hood of his traveling cloak was down, and the hilt of a long sword was clearly seen at his side.  His dark blond hair was clean and brushed and hung down around his features.  He paused in his stride as he looked around the common room before he approached the bar.  Few people noticed him, as the common room was a commotion unto itself.

Geldrick smiled at the new comer. What can I get for you this fine evening?

Dreydan smiled slightly in return and sat on an open bar stool and considered Geldrick’s question.  Wine would be good, he replied.

The barkeep nodded, pulled out a glass and poured some wine for Dreydan.  Here you go, he said setting it down in front of him. A little on the sweet side.

Dreydan passed over some coin, Thank you, he said.  What is on the menu for tonight’s dinner?

We have some beef stew and bread, Geldrick said then pointed out, Not necessarily the meal to go with that particular wine.

Dreydan chuckled, That’s okay.  I’ll go ahead and order some, he said passing over some more coin.

Geldrick nodded, stashed the money away, and went to the kitchen.  The soldier glanced up and down the crowded bar, then back at the common room and its various dark wood, round tables filled with local town people.

Geldrick returned quickly and set a bowl of steaming, hearty, beef stew in front of Dreydan with a side of bread.  The soldier breathed in the aroma and smiled a bit.  There were chunks of beef, potatoes, and carrots with a few other vegetables.  The barkeep took the glass of wine and put out another glass, he then filled it halfway with a different wine.  A proper meal needs a proper wine, he said in his friendly manner.

Dreydan smiled in appreciation, Thank you, he said genuinely.  Geldrick nodded as he turned his attention to other customers.  The soldier was hungry and took his time to enjoy his meal.  He would be cooking his own soon enough when he got to the estate, and they probably would not be as tasty as the meals prepared by Geldrick’s talented cooks.

Finishing his meal, Dreydan wiped his face with a cloth napkin provided with his food.  Motioning Geldrick over Dreydan spoke, Thank you for the food.  It was really good.

Glad you enjoyed it, Geldrick said pulling the dishes away.

One question? Dreydan asked.

Geldrick nodded. Sure.

Dreydan lowered his voice as he continued. Which way to the basement?

Geldrick looked to his left at a hallway that started at the end of the bar.  That way, he instructed.

Thanks, Dreydan replied.  He stood and headed in the direction indicated.

Passing the bar, Dreydan entered the back hallway.  He passed a door to the kitchen, a door to a storage room, a door on his right that led outside, and then finally an open door with a staircase leading down.  He would have proceeded, but a large man blocked his path.  The soldier could hear what sounded like a cheering crowd coming from down below.

What do you want? The man asked gruffly. 

Dreydan pulled out his note, I have an invitation.

The big man took the note, held it close to his face, and looked it over.  Then he handed it back to Dreydan.  Okay, he said moving to the side.

Putting the note away in his pocket, Dreydan moved passed the door guard and made his way down the steps. 

*  *  *  *  *

The crowd was loud and boisterous.  There were men and women of most humanoid races represented.  Elves, dwarves, gnomes, halflings, and humans watched the basement scene before them with excitement and anticipation.  It was close and shadowy among the crowd as the torches were positioned to highlight the wide central area, and there were rows of polished, wooden seats on three sides of the open, column supported room.  The fourth side was elevated and provided seating for important people, the contest judges, musicians, and the gambling money exchange when necessary.

Not sure what to do, Dreydan made his way through the crowd to just about the only seat available.  It was an open seat on the end in the front row.  He moved slowly and carefully to avoid jostling anyone standing in the aisles.  No one paid attention to him as all eyes were on the central area.  Sitting down Dreydan’s attention focused on the contest in front of him.

Two combatants squared off against one another.  One was a balding man with a right eye purple and swollen shut. He wore thick, dark green cloth shorts with a red sash tied around his waist that matched the red marks on his body that would obviously bruise in time.  He was breathing hard and pouring sweat.  Both fighters’ fists appeared wrapped in cloth and leather.  They wore no shoes.

The other contestant was a woman.  Her smooth skin was slightly tanned and damp from exertion.  The torch light reflected off both fighters’ skin.  She wore dark brown, thick cloth shorts reinforced with leather, and a matching, half top that left her muscled midsection exposed.  Her brown hair was pulled into multiple braids, and her bright, green eyes focused on the man in front of her.  Blood trickled down her left cheek from a small cut just below