Writing Prompt Wednesday: Birth of Darsha

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Welcome to Writing Prompt Wednesday!!! (Hopefully) Each week, I’ll have a sentence, and from that, I’ll create a scene. Some may be longer than others. Some may be connected to something that I have already out.

This week’s sentence: The blood dripped slowly down the wall. 

This one is connected to a universe that I’m still hammering out. I hope you enjoy the Birth of Darsha.

*****(c) Dawn Ibanez 2017 All right reserved*****

The blood slowly dripped down the wall. The rancid stench of bile and other bodily fluids clogged her nose as she stood at the edge of the area. She had done the impossible.

Their great champion, their ferocious Beast, was dead at her feet.

The rich noblemen and their ladies were all silent as she closed her left hand and backed away from the man that fought for them. His body crumbled into a heap of flesh as she turned to the man watching over the pit.

He was their King. One of the seven that ruled the Valescape. She didn’t care. He stole what her family had, simply because he could. He took her sisters and sold them off like they nothing more than trinkets. But now she stood over his champion. The Prince he cultivated himself from childhood. The frown on his face proved that he was not pleased with the outcome of the match.

Laughter bubbled up from her. She watched as the women around her grew more horrified by the moment. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and doubled over as she laughed at the painted flowers that acted as if they were not part of a twisted food chain. Her weapons clattered to the dirt ground as she tried to calm herself. The humor of her situation was the prominent thought on her mind.

The King knew of her family’s traitorous behavior. He ordered the death and selling of her family because of her father’s actions. He knew that out of her mother and her sisters, she would have been the one to cause a problem. She would have been the one to become a rebel. She would have been the one to demand justice for her father. In order to seem fair, the King put her in a death match with his champion. A werewolf-troll hybrid against a small demon woman.

Now the King had a dilemma on his hands.

Would he allow the new champion of his fighting pits to live, or would he eliminate the possibility of her trying to seek revenge for her family by killing her?

Her grandmother always told her that life was full of choices. And most often, they were choices she wouldn’t like.

The sounds of the gates being lifted echoed in the arena. Her laughter died enough for her to look around and see four guards shuffling in. She straightened and met the gaze of the King that took her father’s head. “I thought I would get a boon,” she said.

Her voice echoed around the arena. It was soon followed by gasps of outrage and shock. She didn’t care. She only stayed focused on the danger surrounding her.

The King of Gluttony raised his hand and the crowd silenced. “You haven’t won the championship yet.” He looked at his men. “Whoever wins this, will get their boons.”

She closed her eyes as she braced herself for the first blow. When it came, she was thrown across the arena. As she rolled across the dirt floor, she grabbed a rusted and discarded short sword. She started to stand when a fist slammed into her face. Four demons descended on her with kicks and punches to her body. One grabbed her hair and lifted her to her feet.

“We’re going to enjoy this Milady.”

She tightened her grip on the short sword she held and raised it. The women in the audience gasped when she cut off the guard’s hand, as well as most of her long black locks of hair. She landed on her feet and turned to the one nearest her. She swung her sword and continued to move, ignoring the fact that he fell to his knees clutching at his neck.

It was like her fight with Beast all over again. Move, swing, parry, strike. The surest target would be the torso, but the efficient ones were the neck and face. Tendons were good for immobilizing. She moved around her attackers using the ebb and flow of their own movements. One guard reached for her, she sidestepped him but raked her clawed free hand across his face as he fell. Another swung his own sword at her. She blocked his blade and jumped to the side, avoiding a different swing from another guard. A smile crossed her face as she backed away from the four guards and found herself standing over Beast’s dead body.

“My King,” she called out. She didn’t take her eyes from the four demons that were nearly foaming at the mouth to kill her. “I will give you what you want. The Domini House is dead. All that would fight for the line are gone and done.”

“You are still breathing, My dear.”

She smiled and looked at the King. He was playing his hand, to not lose face in front of his people. Her father tried to do the same thing, many times.

His head was now on a pike.

She would have to play to the King’s base nature and override the idea that she would be his enemy. She continued to smile as the guards ran at her at once.

Her body underwent the transformation in less than a second. Gone was the shell of flesh and muscle she normally wore. Gone was the ripped and tattered dress her mother made her wear when the King showed up at her family’s manor months ago. Gone was the possible bride sons of the nobility tried to court to gain favor with both her father and their King.

Now she stood in her true form. She knew what everyone saw. It was a fear whispered by children. The dreaded monster that could devour your soul and take you off the wheel of life and death. The creatures were ferocious and nearly unstoppable. And if one saw you, you were as good as dead. Now she floated above the ground with black robes around her. She pushed back the hood that covered her face. Someone in the audience screamed as everyone realized what she was.

She opened her skeletal hand and flexed her knife-like claws. The guards looked at her horrified as she rushed them, her arms open wide.

Another flash blinded everyone in the arena. Once the light died down, she stood in front of the King, in her usual form wearing nothing but blood. She raised her hands and dropped the heads of Beast, and the four guards at his feet. “The Domini House is dead,” she said again. “All those in opposition to your throne are gone.”

The frustration on his face was transparent. “You are still here, my dearest Lysette.”

She shook her head. “If it pleases you, report that I am dead. Or we can continue this farce and I can continue to kill your men. Use me as your general, or keep me in the pits. I don’t care. But I want my boon.”

One of the King’s fine eyebrows arched. “What would you want, if not your freedom?”

“My sisters. All three of them.”

The intrigue on his face faded. “Sisters. Are they like you?”

She shook her head. “No. They never learned to use my Grandmother’s powers.”

He looked like he was ready to strangle her himself. “Why?”

“For various reasons.” She kept her eyes locked with his as he stood. She didn’t back down as he towered over her. He was powerful enough to kill her. They all knew that. But she had to put her trust in the knowledge that he would see her more like an asset than a danger.

“The Domini line is dead. If your sisters are returned to you, they will have no family name,” he told her.

“They will be my sisters, nothing more,” she agreed.

He looked at her. “What is the name you hide?” he asked.

She looked at him with a grin. She knew who her grandmother was. She knew her grandmother would approve of doing what she had to in order to save her sisters. “Darsha,” she told him. She saw the King flinch and pressed on. “She died on a Hunt nearly fifteen years ago.”

The King nodded. “I never knew she had children.”

“We all keep secrets.”

He looked at her again. This time his gaze traveled up and down her nude body. “You have done well in keeping yours,” he said quietly. He then turned to the crowd. “I will grant the boons the winner of the match desires. I will have her sisters returned to her. And she will remain at my side as a General.” Murmurs ran through the crowd before he raised his hand again. “From this moment on, Lysette of the House of Domini is dead. The woman before you is now to be referred to as Darsha.”

One person started to slowly clap. It took a moment before the tension in the arena changed. People that were terrified of her transformation were cheering for her. The King waved his hand at her and she was instantly wearing a suit of armor. She bowed her head and covered her heart with her fist.

She would allow him to live. She would even fight for him. She would debase herself for no one except the man in front of her.

And once she gained enough power on her own, they would revisit this arena and she would walk out as King of the House of Gluttony.

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Hope you enjoyed it!

See you next week!!!
Dawn

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A Heavy Decision…

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Hi everyone!!!

I haven’t fallen off the Earth or anything. I’m still here. I’m still trying to get a handle on work, home, writing and then trying to market myself, while trying to hold on to some of my own identity.

But I don’t want to get bottom-of-the-ocean deep. I’m writing this to give everyone an update on what’s going on with my writing.

First up, Two for Joy.

I know One for Sorrow hasn’t hit the Kindle yet. A few friends are eagerly waiting this new series from me. So I’m going to give you the really good news that I’ve started on Book 2 and it’s coming along nicely.

Now, about One for Sorrow.

When I started working on this, I had a hair-brained concept. I started writing and it blossomed into something that I never would have thought. I sat on it so I could get a few thoughts on it and then I would self-edit, put it out and be on my merry way.

That’s not what happened.

I started talking with other authors. I started to see where I was going wrong with my writing. While my story was good, there was mistakes that if I shopped it around, agents would have probably laughed as they put it in the shredder (or at least tossed it into the recycle bin of their computer.). So I went back to the beginning to make it a tighter story.

It’s not just tighter, it’s like I’m writing the book all over again. I’m adding things that it simply slipped my mind to put in the first go-round. Things that I don’t really, really need were cut. So I’m working on getting the best novel that I can out to you all.

Now, that being said, I have reached a major decision.

We all know that I started the Maxwell Investigations series because of half-baked out ideas and having fun. Do I regret it?

NEVER.

Would I do things differently if I had the chance?

Definitely. I would have found an editor I could afford. I would have picked more brains to understand what the hell head-hopping was.

Am I going to go back and re-write the first 3 novels?

HELL NO!!!

I know the kind of writer I am. It’s one of the reasons why I hate doing edits so much in the first place. I don’t go in and change a word here and a word there. I open a new file, see where the scene is supposed to go, and write. There is nothing saying that where I end up in a re-write of Tangled Temptations will be where it needs to be for the beginning of Precarious Possessions. Precarious Possessions could throw Dangerous Dalliances into a tailspin and there would be no survivors! So no. As much as it pains me, for my own sanity, I can’t go back and re-do any of them.

Where does that leave Maxwell Investigations?

When I finished Dangerous Dalliances, I looked at it as AN ending of sorts. The first Arc is done, but there are still more adventures in store for the Maxwells, Solomons, and Davenports. There were too many new characters and unanswered questions. I won’t leave it unfinished.

I’ll keep everyone posted on what’s what. I’m hunting for images to make my own little blurbs, so if you see them on Twitter or FB please feel free to share.

Till next time!!!
Dawn