(PART 1)
(Prologue)
Mid-summer in Madrid, Spain 1525
“Confess and you shall be spared.”
The voice was masculine, smooth, and rich; like fresh honey. It was a persuading voice, one that made you want to follow the orders it gave. Seeing as it belonged to Captain Armando Venezuela; commander of thousands and extractor of confessions for Her Majesty, Queen Isabella.
“Confess to what? I have done no wrongs.”
This voice was the complete opposite. High, feminine, and bored. Like its owner had a history of not looking for trouble, yet finding it anyway. And Esmeralda did have a history of trouble. Most would say that being naked, bound, and near death would qualify as more than trouble.
She wasn’t really sure what to call herself. A girl with special talents? A goddess? A witch? Technically, all were correct, but Essie had found that labels brought nothing good. This also happened to be the sixth time (or was it seventh? Mortal time was so confusing) that she had been told to “confess or die”.
Honestly, it was getting a bit tedious. Mortals always thought their torture and punishments were the pinnacle of innovation. But after being torn apart by a lion, everything else was just dull.
The sting of a whip and a hand pulling her hair brought the witch out of her musing.
“Right, best to leave nostalgia for when I’m not at the mercy of a psychopath.” She thought bitterly.
“Will you confess or die, witch?” the man hissed; again, bringing down the strip of leather on her bare back. Her broken body arched and her teeth gritted.
“What. Is. It. With. You. Sadists. And. Whips?!” she spit out between breaths. Honestly, whips had gone out of fashion when the Romans had. They had so many new innovations in this age.
The captain made a confused face at her.
“What is a…” he tried to repeat the word, but it was foreign to his tongue.
Essie rolled her eyes.
“Right, forgot about the cultural difference.” She took a pained breath.
“Look, while I would love to take the time to explain; if it is all the same to you, I would love to get on with my execution.”
She was starting to feel her conscious going. It had been at least a week since she had eaten or drank. The large amount of blood she had lost was making her vision blur. Though she still had enough sight to see the surprise on her captor’s face. A wheezing laugh escaped her.
“What? Did you think I would beg for my life? It isn’t worth it. I knew I was dead the moment you caught me.”
She tried to continue, but her body began to spasm. The room began to spin. She felt her body grow cold. Golden energy began pouring from her. Captain Venezuela was frozen with shock and fear. Even when the walls began to shake, he did not try to run.
The last thing Essie saw before the energy engulfed her was a ceiling beam hitting the soldier and his dead body crumpling.
“Well, at least I’m not going to The Underworld alone.”
