Page 8 of A Broken Promise

My heart beat rapidly and tiny beads of sweat pooled up on my face as I obediently followed the maid’s gesture into the tub. My body submerged in almosttoohot of a bath. I paused for a minute, letting my body adjust as I slowly sat down.

Each sore muscle eased in the warm water. The delicious smell of oils and soaps now kissed my skin. I could fall asleep so easily right now; close my eyes and dive into the pure abyss.

The exhaustion weighed heavy on my eyes, soothing my racing mind.Close your eyes just for a minute, it purred to me. But each time I closed my eyes, each time I attempted to give in to that call, the terror of the upcoming unknown brutalized me.

“My name is Brita,” the young maid softly said as she scrubbed my back with some salts. I didn’t need to see her face as she paused by my scars, only brushing over them softly. I knew they were gnarly scars; I had seen the same scars on backs of many dead bodies at the Rock Quarry, the torn-out flesh eaten by gruesome infection.

“I am Finnleah,” I quietly replied.

“That’s an odd name.” Brita chuckled. I put on a strenuous smile. I might have hated my name growing up, but not anymore. Not ever again.

I was going to say that it was Elvish. It meant “blonde and courageous.” I often joked to myself that my Elf maid had a weird sense of humor, giving me an Elf name while living in human lands. But instead, I just shrugged back.

“I never had anyone wash me before,” I spat out. Not even sure why. I think I just hated the heavy silence more right now.

“Oh,” Brita awkwardly said, pausing for a moment, scrubbing my hands almost raw. The dirt and the calluses were now a part of me, just as much as those scars.

The old maid came up and pulled my freshly washed hair out of the water. It was so heavy that my neck almost snapped in half.

“We will have to cut this louse infested rats’ nest,” she grumbled,putting the hair back into the water. My head followed the pull until I rested it against the edge. I didn’t mind. Shave it all off, I almost said but paused. The maid chopped off my hair piece by piece until it was just slightly below my jaw.

The old maid took another look at my face and my gangly body. I braved a look back at her but didn’t meet her eyes. Meek and obedient. Still, the maid seemed to be more annoyed than concerned.

“Make sure you trim her nails very short so she can’t scratch, Brita,” she directed.

“Yes, ma’am,” Brita said, nodding. For a second, I contemplated asking her who I would be able to scratch, but I had lived long enough to understand that sometimes ignorance was bliss. Soon enough I’d know, but right now, I wouldn’t spoil the only and potentially last moment of peace.

Brita motioned for me to stand up. I rose, looking at the filthy black water left from bathing me. Notes of disgust and shame played within me. Even after living in filth—being filth—you never quite get used to it.

Wrapped in a plush, white towel, I followed Brita to a room just a few steps down the hall.

“This is going to be your room for the night.” She paused, avoiding looking at me as she added, “Until tomorrow.”

The nice, warm feeling wore off me immediately. I was ignorant long enough, I decided. Already regretting the words coming out of my mouth, I asked,

“Lord Inadios talked about someone coming tomorrow. Who is he?”

“Oh, my dear, you really don’t know?” She sorrowfully looked at me. I shook my head. “You are being gifted to the Destroyer General tomorrow,” Brita replied, almost wincing at a mention of his name.

My heart stopped and my body froze.

Destroyer General.

Destroyer.

General.

Destroyer.

Fate had a twisted sense of humor.

I had hidden and ran away from Destroyers for my entire life, only to be served on a silver platter to their General?

Giftedto the Destroyer General…to be tortured and killed; I finished the unspoken words.

Nobody considered Destroyers part of the Magic Wielders. No, they were brutal, merciless, bloodthirsty warriors, wielding theCleansing Fire—the never ending flame that destroyed everything in its way.

Flames that burned souls.

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