Devil Ash Deceit (Devil Ash Saga)

by Olson, Mitchell

  No way she’s going to like it, the King thought. I give her a month, maybe a year tops before she realizes the Royal Guard is no fun. She’ll quit for sure! I’d stake my life on it…if my life weren’t so damn important!

  Chapter Twenty-Five: The Warrior Princess

  There came a knocking on Shiva’s bedroom door one early morning, and Shiva was already eagerly standing on the other side to open up immediately. She’d been looking forward to this day since the conversation that took place in her family’s throne room only days ago. Today was the day that Shiva joined the Royal Guard.

  The door opened and Goddard poked his head in. The Royal Advisor nodded curtly to the sixteen year old, then barged his way into her room. Shiva had awoken an hour ago, before the formation of the artificial sun even, and was already dressed. Behind Goddard, a castle servant wheeled in a large box on a dolly. The servant set the box down in the middle of the room and left the two alone.

  “I can’t believe this is really happening,” Goddard said, handing the girl a crowbar. She took one look at the tool and realized Goddard did not intend to open the box for her. From now on, she’d be doing all the work herself.

  “It’s not that unusual,” Shiva said, ripping the tool from the man’s clutches. “Women have joined the Royal Guard before. Grandpa even said one made Captain.” The girl stuck the pointier end of the tool into the crack in the top of the crate and started to pry.

  “Women tend to die much faster in the Royal Guard, you know.”

  “Not me,” said Shiva. With a mighty thrust, the girl threw all her weight down on the crowbar. The lid popped out of place and toppled to the floor. “I’m tougher than I look.”

  Shiva delved into the crate. What she saw almost brought a tear to her eye. Gazing down into the box, amidst a plethora of packing paper laid several fragments of the girl’s new identity. The pieces, all cast of the most durable metals, were newly minted and in perfect condition. Each section was of the darkest crimson and emblazoned with the Royal Guard’s golden crest.

  Shiva picked up the cuirass, or breastplate, and felt its weight. It was heavier than the girl had expected. She examined the rest of the pieces one by one while Goddard examined the girl. After removing each section of the armor from the box, the girl looked at Goddard.

  “I’m going to put it on now,” she said. Goddard took the hint and turned around. Without waiting even one more second, Shiva stripped off her clothing until all she had on was her tightest undergarments. She threw on the armor with all the fury of a tornado sucking up cattle. Without so much as a word of instruction, only minutes later when the sounds of metal and flesh colliding stopped, Goddard turned around.

  Shiva stood gazing into her full-length mirror, the armor a perfect fit. She inspected herself from all angles like an adolescent girl might examine her prom dress. The girl did a couple of squats, testing the weight of her new outfit. She wiggled her arms and legs until she was certain of how far they could stretch and bend. She even threw a few mock punches, smiling at how badass her reflection looked.

  I’m never taking this armor off, she thought.

  Goddard cleared his throat. “If you’re quite ready,” he said. “Your orientation is about to start.”

  Shiva turned around and strutted across the room like a fashion model. She and Goddard left her bedroom and headed for the castle barracks to meet with the Commander of the Royal Guard.

  * * * *

  The short walk down the hall to the stairwell to the basement was a monumental moment for Shiva. It was the introduction of her new identity to anyone who happened to be walking the halls at that same time. Mostly castle servants and maids, as well as some other Royal Guards caught sight of the Princess in armor. Shiva would never forget their somber expressions.

  She followed Goddard downstairs and to the barracks. When they entered, every set of eyes in the room turned to her. There were twenty-some men in the room, a wide variety of ages between them all. Goddard led the way through the soldier’s bunk area to the office in the rear. He tapped on the door until a gruff voice inside gave permission to enter.

  They stepped inside to find the recently promoted Commander Stryd sitting behind a large wooden desk. The man did not look pleased at all as he scribbled away at the paperwork, his dark-skinned brow wrinkled in frustration.

  “They don’t tell you about all the paperwork involved when you take the position of Commander,” he said.

  “Nor the Royal Advisor,” Goddard replied, a look of loathing on his face as he gazed at the paper stacks.

  Commander Stryd dropped his pencil and stood. “Lady Shiva,” he said as he bowed his head in respect. “When I first heard you’d be joining us, I thought it was a joke.”

  “I can assure you, this is no joke sir,” Shiva said. “I want to be treated the same as everyone else here, so please don’t hold back on me.”

  Stryd looked to Goddard. “She’s all yours now,” the Royal Advisor said. “I don’t care what you do with her, just make sure she doesn’t die, alright?”

  “Don’t you worry,” Stryd said. “We’ll take care of her.” His toothy grin did not look pleasant.

  Goddard wished Shiva luck and stepped out of the office. The Princess and the Commander were alone.

  “And don’t you worry, Princess,” said Stryd. “I’ve spoke at length with your father. We both believe that this is no place for you, but we’re willing to give you a chance. We won’t be giving you any special treatment just because of your title. Here, we reward hard work and obedience.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Shiva said. “This is how I want to serve my family. When we exit this office, I am no longer a Princess.”

  * * * *

  Inside the small gymnasium connected to the barracks, Commander Stryd stood before his new recruits. Shiva was just one of the twenty-six men assembled there. They wore whatever pieces of armor they could afford, and there were even some with no armor at all. Stryd looked them all over, groaned, and then cleared his throat.

  “You’ve all made a very brave choice to give your lives to the Royal Guard. I commend you on that. If not for good people like you, our Kingdom would not be able to exist. Your King thanks you. Your Commander thanks you.

  “Before we get started, I am obligated to inform you that all but one of you will die in a future demon invasion. If that statistic bothers you, there’s the door. I only ask that you first take into consideration this one thing: do you think you could make it to the door before I strike you down with my blade?”

  No one moved. No one spoke. No one even blinked.

  “I didn’t think so. Now, you may be thinking to yourself, ‘I’d rather not get killed by demons.’ Well good news, because here in the Royal Guard we promote those who show the most promise to defending the castle. In other words, the stronger and more talented you are, the more likely you’ll be given a cushy castle guard job. Everyone else is demon bait. Work hard, get tougher, don’t be demon bait. Got it?”

  Everyone in the room nervously bobbed their heads. A portion of the room was already internally debating abandoning this lousy job. Shiva stood up, much to everyone’s surprise, raising her hand with a question. She wasn’t called on, but she spoke anyway.

  “What if we want to fight demons, sir!” she asked.

  Stryd marched over to where Shiva stood. With his face only inches away from the girl’s, the Commander gave her a hollering the likes of which she’d never experienced before.

  “This is not a Q&A session here! Did I give you permission to speak? I didn’t think so! You have a death wish? That’s fine with us! You can answer every damn siren for all I care! But until you complete basic training and prove you can do more than just throw your bodies into the jaws of a hungry demon, none of you are going anywhere near the battlefield! Now sit your ass down and shut your mouth!”

  Shiva obeyed at once and took her seat on the bench. She understood that this was all part of the experience, that
it came with the territory. Still, she’d never been spoken to like that before in her life and it was difficult adjusting. Stryd continued down the line of recruits, taking joy in everyone’s terrified reactions at seeing the man in charge berate a Royal Princess.

  “Now, you may have all noticed a very special guest in our group. If you’re a little slow, I’ll save you time and tell you to look at the loudmouth who just spoke out of turn.”

  Shiva could feel everyone’s piercing eyes on her. She stared straight ahead, trying her best to ignore them.

  “That’s right, there’s Royalty among us,” Stryd said. “Except not anymore she’s not. The King has given me the order to treat her like I would any one of you, so don’t think she’ll be getting any favoritism while she’s with us. We’re going to start off with a little sparring drill so I can see what you’re all made of. Now line up!”

  The nervous bunch of recruits stood at attention, filing into order and forming two lines. The men at the front of the lines stood inside circles painted on the floor of the gym. The goal of their sparring drill was to push the defending cadet out of the ring. Shiva waited anxiously in line for the opportunity to finally get in on some sparring. The men took turns throwing punches and kicks until the winners were decided. Those who won stayed in the circle while the losers returned to the rear of the line.

  Stryd watched closely, evaluating everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, determining who would last in a fight with the demons and who would likely perish. The Commander was tasked with deciding where to place the new recruits based on their talent and potential. So far, none of the men had demonstrated anything impressive in their matches.

  Shiva finally stepped into the sparring circle, ready for action. The girl stared down her challenger, a much larger and older man, taking a defensive stance and beckoning the man to strike first. Her opponent looked wary. He scratched his head and looked around the room before speaking to the girl.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Shiva,” he said, barely lifting his eyes to look at the girl. “I don’t want to become known as the guy who beat up the Princess. I concede.”

  With that, the man left the circle and joined the other line of recruits, so as to avoid running into the Princess again. Disappointed, Shiva entered the circle and turned to face the rest of the men. Each one showed the same wary uncertainty, avoiding the girl’s gaze altogether. Shiva waved the next challenger into the circle, but the man would not budge.

  “What’s the hold up?” Stryd shouted from across the gym.

  “I am waiting for my next opponent!” Shiva replied.

  “All those who wish to challenge Lady Shiva, stay in that line. Everyone else, form a new line!”

  Without hesitation, every man abandoned Shiva’s line and started forming a new one. The girl stood there watching, trying not to let her tears escape. For one hour, she stood silently by as everyone took part in the sparring drill. After a few rounds, the men were all starting to enjoy themselves. Opponents formed bonds after each respectable match, offering each other friendly handshakes and kind words.

  No one even looked at Shiva. She stood by the entire time, waiting for someone to challenge her. When he’d seen enough, the drill ended and Stryd ordered everyone out. Shiva waited until the room was cleared before she would take a step outside of her circle. She approached the Commander, waiting by the door.

  “Can’t you do something?” she asked him. “Order them to fight me!”

  “I’m sorry Lady Shiva,” the Commander said. “I can’t order anyone to attack the Royal Princess! Such an order would be treason against the Royal Family!” With that simple explanation, Stryd left Shiva standing in the dark.

  * * * *

  Without anyone to spar against, Shiva missed out on the ‘training’ aspect of basic training. She still partook in any drills that didn’t require a partner, like working out and demonstrating flame abilities. But that wasn’t enough to get assigned a proper job in the Royal Guard. Because she could not display her fighting talents, she was placed in the one area that did not require any fighting ability: the kitchen.

  Shiva carried supplies, chopped vegetables, ran errands, and scrubbed the floors. She was assigned virtually every job the Royal Guard had to offer except for fighting. She looked forward to the daily sparring drills that took place, hoping that each new day would bring a competitor willing to challenge her. The better part of a year went by without any takers.

  Shiva decided that she wouldn’t let that time go to waste and worked on training her body instead. When she got to the circle and her opponents abandoned ship, she’d spend the time waiting for a challenger by doing push-ups and sit-ups. She refused to beg for a fight, opting to display her dedication and talent for all to see, hoping that someone would work up the courage to one day challenge her.

  She started to wonder if this had been her father’s plan all along. He never approved of her joining the Royal Guard and wanted to keep her as far away from the battlefield as possible. It seemed apparent that the strategy employed here was to make the job as unbearable as possible so that she’d have no choice but to quit.

  Shiva felt like quitting every day, especially during those lonely sparring sessions. As much as she hated her situation, she knew going back and admitting she was wrong and returning to her former life was impossible. Instead, she looked for a way out of her current predicament. Without anyone to spar against, she’d never get out of the kitchen. That had to change first before any progress could be made.

  She received a much-needed surprise one day while mopping the barracks. The floor was so clean that it shined, reflecting the image of a familiar face standing over the girl. Shiva jumped up at once, excited to see her visitor.

  “Phoenix!” she cried, wrapping the man in a hug. “It’s been so long! Where have you been?”

  “It’s nice to see you again, Lady Shiva,” he said. “I’m stationed in West Hell, keeping an eye on the development out there. How have you been adjusting to life in the Royal Guard?”

  Shiva listed off her problems while Phoenix listened intently, his face the first to display actual concern. The man offered to check in on her once a week and provide some much-needed sparring practice, which the girl enthusiastically agreed to. It turned out to be less than ideal, with Phoenix barely even making it to see her once a month. Their sparring sessions were always brief, as Phoenix was a busy man and unable to put off his own duties long enough to tend to the girl.

  As the years went by and more new recruits joined, Shiva recognized some of the boys that she fought with on the streets as part of her delinquent youth. Thinking some of them might not be afraid of sparring with her since they’d already done so in the past, Shiva felt hopeful at last. That hope was quickly dashed as the new recruits seemed to fall in line with their seniors, ignoring the Princess entirely.

  When she approached someone she knew from years ago, they’d only express disinterest in fighting with her again. Knowing of her Royal ties and put off by her past crime of keeping her identity a secret from them, no one took her up on the offer to spar. She’d come a long way in her journey, but it now seemed like she’d hit a dead end. Without anyone to fight against, she couldn’t advance in her training. Without displaying her abilities, she likely would never make it out of the castle.

  One day, Shiva managed to catch her brother meditating in the private courtyard. Thinking this could be her one last shot, the girl approached her sibling with a nervous lump in her throat. Without opening his eyes or breaking his concentration, Darko addressed the girl.

  “What do you want?” he asked, his brow already starting to crease in agitation.

  “I was just wondering, if you have some free time right now, maybe you’d like to join me in some sparring?” Shiva asked, her legs practically shaking. She was almost twenty years old now, and Darko closer to twenty-six. The difference in experience between them was so obvious even thinking about it made Shiva sweat. Her brother had been fi
ghting real demons for years, not only surviving each encounter but never even suffering so much as a scratch. Her brother was strong; much stronger than her.

  “No,” he said instantly. “I have nothing to gain by sparring with someone as weak as you.”

  “That may be true,” said Shiva. “But I have a lot to gain by sparring with you.”

  Darko opened his eyes and cleared his expression. With a gloomy look of boredom, the Prince climbed to his feet and addressed his sister one last time. “My refusal to spar with you is for your own benefit. I never limit or restrict myself in any way, and if someone as inexperienced as you faced me, you’d certainly die.”

  Like turning on a light switch, the boy activated his soul power. Shiva felt a wave of power wash over her, so strong it was that she had to take a step back and nearly fell to the ground. If he used that power against her in a match, she knew that death would very likely be the result. She could say nothing more.

  Darko left the girl standing alone in the yard, reminding her that no matter how diligent or enthusiastic she was, no matter how hard she tried or how much effort she put forth, she would always be alone in her plight.

  * * * *

  One day, everything changed. Shiva was cleaning out the barracks kitchen when the latest batch of new recruits walked in. She didn’t pay any attention to the new recruits any more. For the first couple of years she felt hopeful that one of them might join her for a spar. As the rumors of the Princess’s reputation spread, it became a social norm to simply ignore her until she disappeared entirely. Because of this, the girl was taken by surprise during that afternoon’s sparring session.

  As always, everyone else quickly abandoned whatever line Shiva joined. Shiva stood alone in her circle, working out by herself as she always did. On the bright side, she was in the best shape of her life. Her body was no longer soft and delicate like a Princess, but toned and muscular like a warrior. Her fiery red hair, which had always been long and flowing, she now kept tied up in a ponytail to keep from getting in her eyes.