The Desert of Motah
The desert wind cut through the night like icy knives. Sedora lay huddled in the iron cage that rattled over the sand, her white gown torn and smeared with dust. It offered no warmth, no protection. Her body trembled, but not only from the cold—despair weighed heavily on her chest.
She turned her head, trying to make out the faces of the other girls through the shadows. Most were slumped in exhausted sleep. Sedora sighed softly.
Is this my new life? she thought bitterly. A princess one day… a prisoner the next. Father, I know you're searching for me. I must endure. I must be strong. Or perhaps… should I try to escape?
The wheels ground to a halt. The coachman climbed down, stretching his back with a groan.
"Sir, it's too late," he muttered to their leader. "We should rest. My body will break if I keep on like this."
Lucas, the slave master, turned on him with a glare sharp enough to cut stone. "Are you a fool? If we stop now, we lose time. The vampires expect us by dawn. Get back to your seat before I cut your tongue out."
The coachman swallowed his protest and slunk back to the reins, cursing silently. He had barely settled when he froze. Ahead, through the blowing sand, another carriage stood across their path. Upon its banner glimmered the crimson insignia of the Vampire Court.
"Sir… we have company," he stammered.
Lucas stiffened. "Hold position!" he barked. Instantly, his men drew their blades, tension rippling through the ranks. Lucas strode forward, his boots crunching on the sand.
The carriage ahead was black as obsidian, its polished surface gleaming in the moonlight. For a long, eerie moment, nothing moved. Then a small window slid open.
"Have you forgotten how to pay your respects?" came a voice, sweet as honey yet carrying a venom that sent shivers up Lucas's spine.
His blood ran cold. He knew that voice.
"Princess… Rena," he whispered hoarsely, dropping to his knees before her carriage. His men followed, fear choking them.
The door opened, and she stepped out. Princess Rena of the Vampires—betrothed to King Louis Trigon, the Demon King—was a vision of dark perfection. Her gown shimmered like liquid midnight. Her lips, red as spilled wine, curved in a smile that promised both delight and death.
Lucas bent low, bowing his back to serve as her stepping stone. She descended gracefully, her silken skirts sweeping across the sand.
The moment her feet touched the ground, she wrinkled her nose delicately. "What is that stench, Lucas?"
"Forgive us, Your Highness," Lucas stammered, eyes glued to the dirt. "We have traveled for days without rest… no baths, no—"
"Enough." Her tone silenced him instantly. Her gaze turned sharp. "Do you have what I desire? A gift fit for the king—a young girl, fresh blood."
Lucas's face lit with sycophantic eagerness. "Yes, Your Highness. Many. All young, all untouched." He hurried to the cages and yanked the door open. "Out! All of you!"
The girls stumbled into the sand, weak, their faces pale and smeared with dirt. The smallest among them, Rose, could not stand. She collapsed, trembling. Sedora quickly bent to lift her, steadying her tiny frame.
Rena's eyes fell upon them. She moved closer, her beauty chilling in the moonlight.
"What is your name, little one?" she asked, her voice deceptively tender.
Rose lifted her head weakly. "R-Rose… Finland."
Rena's smile widened, her fangs flashing. She glanced at Lucas. "This one will never survive the journey. I'll take her now."
Before Sedora could comprehend her meaning, Rena's hand clamped around Rose's arm. Sedora's instincts screamed. She held the child tighter, her hazel eyes blazing with defiance.
"No! She's just a child. You can't!" Sedora cried, pulling back.
The protest earned her a brutal slap across the face from one of Lucas's men. The blow sent her crumpling to the ground, unconscious. Clara and Faith covered their mouths in horror, but the others stood frozen, hollow-eyed, as though long accustomed to cruelty.
Rena ignored Sedora entirely. She drew Rose closer, her lips brushing the girl's throat. Rose whimpered softly before Rena sank her fangs in. The child stiffened, then wilted as her blood drained away. Her small body dropped lifeless into the sand.
Silence followed. The desert itself seemed to recoil.
"Which others do you have?" Rena asked casually, wiping her lips with a silk cloth.
"Clara, Faith, Grace, Gloria, Sedora, and Lila," Lucas recited, pride lacing his tone as though offering fine jewels.
"I'll take four. The younger ones." Her hand waved lazily, as if choosing fruit from a market.
Lucas's grin widened. He yanked Clara, Faith, Lila, and Sedora—still unconscious—from the group. They were dragged toward Rena's carriage.
The vampire princess stepped inside, and with a gesture, the four captives were thrown in after her. The carriage door slammed shut, and in the blink of an eye, it vanished into the night, leaving only a swirl of dark mist behind.
At Lucas's feet, a heavy pouch of gold clinked onto the sand. He snatched it eagerly, his eyes glowing with greed as he peered inside at the glittering coins.
"Victory, boys!" he shouted. His men cheered, their exhaustion forgotten, already dreaming of wine and women.
"Mount up!" Lucas roared. "We ride for the Vampire Realm by dawn!"
The desert echoed with the thunder of hooves as the slavers pushed onward, leaving behind the small, lifeless body of Rose in the cold sand.