Rain assaulted the carriage with a thunderous speed. The cold wind, like a dagger, cut into Rue's skin. The clanging chains of her cuffs ringing in her ears. The two other women huddled with her on the left side of the carriage. Doing their best to fight off the cold. The two guards across from the group remained in silence. The younger one watches them with contempt and disgust whilst the older man, a grisly man with a big, greying beard, slipped in and out of what seemed a pleasant dream.
The shoddy, moldy wooden contraption carriage creaked and groaned as it trekked across the muddy path. The storm had not let up for a few hours, and now the horse's pace was little more than a trudge. The driver mutters, barely audible curses at the weak beasts. Rue felt a sharp pity for the creatures. Their whines and neighs of protest got them little more than a whip.
Their journey would only last a few more hours. Rue thought to herself. Dread weighed heavy on Rue's shoulders. When she and the other women made it to the capital, their future would be even bleaker than it already was. Her heart choked at the thought, and breath seemed impossible. No, she couldn't concern herself with that now. She had to live in the moment. Survive the now. That was the only chance she had of living. Cold. Rain. The clanging of chain cuffs. Dread. That was all there was in the silence of the cart.
CRAAACK! A thunderous boom erupts in the carriage. The cart is torn to shreds as an explosion of wind sends Rue and the other occupants flying. Rue's vision goes black. Her senses are set ablaze—her ears ring, her mind a numb fire, icy tendrils of pain shooting everywhere. The pain takes its time to set in. Slowly, the fuzziness goes away, and the shooting pain lingers. Her vision comes back. Her mind screams but slowly comes to its senses. The rain showered down on her, seeping the cold into her body, an unwelcome intruder. Rue gritted her teeth and, with sheer will, lifted her head. A sharp pain shoots through her neck. She pulled her aching body up from the muddy ditch she had landed in. She wiped the mud from her face the best she could with the side of her hand.
Rue looked around at the chaos surrounding her. Her ears were still ringing loudly, and she could barely make out the screaming wails of the horses. Chunks of wood littered the ground. The older guard's body lay no more than ten feet from Rue, with a wooden shrapnel stake sticking out of his chest. The man's hands clasped around it. Blood dribbled its way down from the side of his mouth. The crimson streams washing away from his chest seeped into the mud. The driver was not far from the old man. Struggling to stand up. Splinters of wood protruding from his left leg. He did his best to steady himself. Rue could only make out the outline of one of the other women lying motionless on the ground some distance from the rest of the wreck. The woods surrounding them and their salvation mud path seemed even more ominous now that she was out of the carriage. The dark, cloudy sky made their shadows loom large like beasts. What had caused that... that... explosion?
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Rue noticed the younger guard was on his feet and seemed mainly unharmed. He paced around the wreckage. His eyes darted back and forth down the road and sporadically scanned the tree lines. A mad look consumed his eyes. Terror. He held a short sword up. Pointing it in any random direction. His grip and stance were loose and rigid in all the wrong ways. Shook. His mouth moved, but Rue could not hear him over the ringing in her ears. The man stops suddenly. He raises his sword in an offensive position. Adjusts his feet to be a more stable stance. His expression steals itself. The terror in his eyes seems to leave. In an instant, he is like a whole different person.
Rue looks down the road to where the guard is facing and sees two purple lights glowing in the dark road. Lights are the wrong word. They are two spheres that are moving closer. They look like... eyes, glowing a deep purple that cuts through the night. Slowly, Rue can make out an outline of a cloaked figure walking towards them.
The guard shouts something to the figure. She watches as the figure continues to approach them, unwavering. The guard begins taking steps toward the figure. The figure raises their arm and makes a motion with their hand. CRRK! A sound similar to the crack of the driver's whip rings out through the air. The guard stops rigidly. His posture falters. The short sword slips out of his hands and falls to the ground. The body slides forward, limp. He falls to his knees, and then his body slumps face-first into the mud. The purple eyes continue to make their way to the wreckage. Rue's body had grown heavy as she felt her strength slowly slip away. She struggled to keep herself upright but steadied herself the best she could. The figure made its way to the driver. The driver was panicking, shouting, and squirming. He did his best to crawl away from the figure. Clawing at the mud, but he was too slow. The figure stood above him. Grabbing him and turning the driver over onto his back. The figure lowered itself and grabbed the driver's collar. It was hard to tell in the rain, but tears streamed down the driver's face. The figure seemed to be interrogating the driver. Rue did her best to try to hear their conversation but to no avail. Once again, the figure made a motion with its hands. CRRKK! Another whip crack, and the driver went limp in the grasp of the figure. His head lulled back, limp and unsupported, and his stare was empty. A small stream of blood drooled from the driver's mouth and down the left side of his face. The figure released the driver's corpse, and it collapsed to the ground.
The color from Rue's vision dulls. Her muscles are no longer able to support her body. She falls to the floor. The mud clinging to her face. She watches as the figure turns and faces her. Her vision tunnels as the feeling in her body numb. The last thing her senses cling to before succumbing to unconsciousness is the purple eyes.
