This novella now has an expanded version, also available in my profile, Exequinne!

You are free to continue through this story, but I don't want to waste your time with this plot. The novel version is more fleshed out and holistic. I promise. xD

The Mayaware's reign has to end.

In a world of demonic beings with a hunger for human flesh, and thirst for blood, Hesi Renen knows it well. When her siblings are taken to the harvesting farms, she must do everything she can to get them out, even if it means masquerading as a potential bride to the Mayaware prince.

As Hesi wades through a sea of blood and secrets, she must win over not only allies, but maybe even the demon prince, himself. With ties forged and heart burning with want, Hesi discovers how much she is willing to sacrifice to grasp the one thing she must destroy: the Mayaware king's throne.

The race to the top is at hand. There is a chance, but not without a price to pay.

Delve into the reimagined spin of the award-winning tale about the fight for freedom, the blood borne from betrayal and failure, and the fate of a kingdom built upon the ashes of the innocent. Victory spells freedom, but don't forget—death does too.

If there was something that'd stay with Hesi until the day she died, it was the heat. Scorching, infernal heat. She clicked her tongue, wiping the side of her face with her exposed arm. Her skin glistened with sweat, particles of sand clinging to it like hungry leeches. No matter what she did, the sand wouldn't be falling away until after she had cooled off for the night.

She glanced at the bright sky. Night was still a long way off.

A squeal uncharacteristic of the harsh desert rang behind her. She whirled in alarm, her hand swinging directly into a pile of thorny stalks. Pain shot up her wrist. Darpeh.

"Give it back!" Pai, her sister, chased around a smaller boy—their youngest brother, Unsu. On the boy's hands was his sister's scarf. Hesi watched as Unsu darted around, arm raised. The scarf fluttered in the air as it fought with the wind's direction. A deadly beacon. A flare in the darkness. The boy's wide eyes and slighty-parted mouth in wonder was not a welcome reaction.

But it's a necessary one.

A breeze picked up from the west, ruffling Pai's bobbed hair. As the girl swiped at the thick strands blocking most of her face, she growled and picked after her brother. "No, no. Don't put it—agh!" she clawed at the side of her face as Unsu gripped both ends of the scarf and pressed the middle smack into his sweaty curls.

"I just washed that!" Pai wailed. "Give it back, takfakhte!"

Hesi shot up. "Pai!" she cradled her struck hand, wincing at the faint, stabbing pain peppering her skin. "We do not call anyone that."

Where did Pai even learn it? From the merchants? The people in Agkhre? It's such a hideous word Hesi couldn't even dare to utter it. Hearing it out of his sister's mouth—to their brother, no less—it's nothing short of horrifying.

"I know, but he..." Pai stomped her feet on the ground in some sort of tantrum. For a girl nearing her moon-cycles, it looked almost ironic. Her sister jabbed an accusatory finger in Unsu's direction, her eyes misting against the desert heat. "He touched it to his stinking sweat. His stinking sweat—"

Hesi marched towards their brother, clamped a shoulder down his small shoulder, keeping care of hurting his bones, and yanked the scarf out of the boy's grip. The whine escaping the boy's mouth couldn't have been human. A donkey, maybe.

"Unsu, say sorry to your sister," Hesi crouched and fixed the boy's sleeveless tunic which had began sliding off one shoulder. It's several sizes too big. It's their father's after all. One of the last things they have left of him. "We do not snatch things that are not ours."

The boy stuck a lip out. At least, he stopped throwing the same tantrum as the girl behind him was. "Is that one of the sur-vi-val rules?" Unsu asked, stumbling over the word. At seven, it might still be big for him. But he'd learn. He must.

Hesi had not an inkling how to talk to children other than her siblings, so she bobbed her head and started dusting his trousers. The beaded cords they used to tie it up clinked against each other. "We are humans, Unsu," she said. "We do not liken ourselves with demons."

Unsu sniffed but not because of the thing he did and was being reprimanded for. It's because of being reminded of the truth about their situation. The only fact of life they knew since they opened their eyes.

Still, the boy turned to Pai who had her arms crossed over her chest. "S-sorry," Unsu muttered, twiddling his fingers.

Pai glanced at the boy. "And you're coming with me to the river next time."

At that, Unsu dissolved into the sand, flailing and squealing out of frustration. "No river!" he wailed. The last time they were there, a flock of herons pecked at Unsu's hair because he poked around their nesting grounds. Since then, the line do not disturb things that doesn't want to be disturbed has been included in their survival rules.

Hesi turned to her sister who wore a smug smile like she had just won the heaviest pound of meat. "That's not something to feel happy about, Pai," she said. Unlike Unsu, who merely needed a distraction to forget his woes, dealing with a girl only years younger than Hesi proved to be tougher. "Apologize to Unsu as well."

An incredulous scoff tore off Pai. "I'm not the one at fault!" she defended.

"But you retaliated," Hesi replied. "What do we say about retaliating?"

Pai's arm dropped to her sides and rolled her eyes. The nerve of this kid. "Only do it when there's lives at stake," she said.

Hesi took Unsu's hand and stalked towards Pai, holding out her sister's scarf to her. "And are there any?"

Her sister's fingers couldn't have snatched the scarf faster. Pai's lips curled into a frown, like she wasn't agreeing to what she's going to say but had no choice but to. "No," she said. "But—"

"No buts," Hesi put a palm forward, stopping the girl before her cart sloped down the hill. Despite the guilt clawing in her gut, she jerked her chin at their brother who now clung to Hesi's leg like a long-tailed monkey to a date tree. "Apologize."

Pai sighed. "I'm sorry, Unsu," she turned to Hesi. "There. Happy now?"

Hesi wanted to take the girl's scarf herself and fling it to the wind. There's no way she'd let Pai, who couldn't even chuck a spear at an incoming demon, walk over her. But she clenched her fists to her sides. The three of them knew who that scarf belonged to, and she had an idea what Pai's going to reason out.

Their mother. That's the life that had been at stake, and the scarf was a painful reminder.

If anything, Hesi had never been farther from happiness than this moment. She had been staying at the sidelines of its radius for so long she began to forget what it meant. What it entailed.

"One last thing," Hesi turned to both of her siblings. "We do not seek attention to ourselves by emitting loud sounds. You two forgot that part."

Pai's features curled as if she was about to reason more. Hesi beat her to it with a pointed and flat look. "You know what's lurking in the dunes," she said. "What might appear at any time?"

Silence. Only the wind and the scratches of tumbleweed and dried leaves against the sand could be heard. Hesi blew a humid breath. "Keep your guard up. Don't be distracted," her face must be as grim as the dread in her gut because Pai's resistance evened out and Unsu started fidgeting. "There's only one way to survive."

Don't make a noise. Don't ever make a noise.

And they knew that. All too well, in fact.

"Let's go," Hesi trudged back to the wicker basket halfway filled with thorny stalks and bright red buds of the charbi succulents. It would have to do considering Pai and Unsu's altercation might have stirred the vipers' nest. She gripped the basket's straps and slung them over her shoulders. The rags dug against her skin, her tunic the only one shielding her skin. Her own scarf tucked her long, thick hair out of her face. She tapped the crude belt slung around her waist. Knife, check. Extra blades, check. They didn't lose things in the sand.

Pai shouldered her own basket and helped Unsu gather his. The smaller wicker were almost filled if they combine everything they've harvested all morning.

Hesi craned her neck up the incline of sand. On the foot of this dune sat the village. The elders—humans who lived through this game for as long as they did—were expecting a hearty blessing even when Wareph had long ago turned her back on them.

Together, they scaled up the dune, heaving their near-empty baskets and fleshy bodies. Step after step, they slogged through the warm sand scalding and scratching the skin past the hems of their trousers. It's either going to welt, tear, or scab later on, but it's not like they have a choice other than brave the terrain.

Screams and growls nipped at Hesi's ears. A wave of shivers ran down her spine, tempting to freeze her in place. What...

Pai hissed, floundering up the crest faster. Hesi's eyes widened. "What are you doing?" she demanded, clawing after her sister. Her fingers only caught air and a handful of sand. She turned to Unsu, grabbed his basket, and tossed it inside her own. "Keep up," she said to her brother. Let her put her trust in his energy and strength. Just this once.

The girl had reached the peak seconds before Hesi. Something brushed her feet and she looked down to find Unsu clambering behind not long after. Good boy. "Pai!" Hesi snarled, keeping her voice low. Those screams were far too familiar even if they belonged to another mouth. "Don't run off on your own."

Hesi didn't wait for her sister to acknowledge that. Instead, she peered over the peak. Her heart stopped. Ran cold not long after. Onyx colored the sienna sand with darkness Hesi had counted on but was never going to be prepared seeing.

The Mayaware. They're here.

Hesi whirled to her siblings. "Go east," she hissed. "I'll follow."

"What about the tent?" Pai asked.

"Never mind that," Hesi replied, knowing full well about what her statement entailed. That tent contained every sliver of memory their parents left them. Losing it, leaving it behind, it meant throwing a piece of their lives to the wolves.

Pai, the sentimental brat that she was, wiped the back of her hand against her cheek. Survival Rule: do not question Hesi when the Mayaware shows up. As much as Hesi shirked away from the duty, it was the only thing her parents said to her that day. Keep them safe. And she's going to do that until her last breath.

"Go east," Hesi said again when neither of her siblings moved. "Use the peak to shield you. Pick up deshet on your way."

They all learned it the hard way that day. Their parents, whose names hadn't even become apparent to their children, scampered to the deshet bushes and slotted their children in. Unsu was a mere babe, still swaddled in cloths, but their mother thrust him into Hesi's arms. Keep them safe.

Then, they were gone. Hesi could only watch as dark scales and onyx claws swipe into the air. Humans strewed around, mouths open in panic and hollow screams. They knew what awaited them if they get caught. Night had fallen on them and when Hesi and Pai crawled out of the bushes, what greeted them was a wasteland to rivaling the unforgiving desert. A field of blood. An expanse of the dead.

Hesi blinked the memory away, shaking her head like she was eager to watch her braids swing around. She forced herself to peer past the dune. Their tent were the only one remaining standing, the oasis' pool shimmering beside it. The others had packed up or had died doing so. As if in mockery, the sunlight made the blood staining the sand darker.

To head down, it'd be suicide. Hesi could see no clear path leading to the tent. All roads would end in the rusty tang of red. A scream tore off from the east, right where she told them to go. She whirled and caught sight of two towering beings bearing down on her siblings. Sand sprayed in the air as she dashed forward, bile rising to her throat in droves.

The demons had their scales out, their bald heads disappearing into a hide resembling snakes. Fangs curved from their gums, frills spread wide. Pai had her arm out, shielding Unsu from them as they scrambled back. Hesi pumped her legs. Faster.

She reached the first one before it could reach out and grab Pai. Unlike the adults down in the village, they didn't seem to be keen on hurting her siblings. Was there a reason for that?

Hesi couldn't care as much. Her knife, the one she used to harvest harmless flowers and thorny stalks, hissed on its way out of the sheathe. With a cry, she slammed into the first demon, slashing up. Her blade scritched, skidding off the roch-hard scales. The demons turned to her.

Pai knew what to do. She leveled her blade at the demon while watching her sibling scamper away in the corner of her eyes. When she was sure they were far out, she ducked under the clawed swipe and hooked her leg around the demon's leg. She pulled. Weight crashed over the hot pit. Her blade whined against scales. Sparks burned the bright sky.

Silver flashed in her periphery. She leaned away, her fingers closing around the spear's shaft. She pulled, slashing her knife backward. The spear's owner hissed but steered clear. Fangs snapped for a piece of her flesh. She stabbed down, hurtling the spear straight into the chink between the demon's frills an its cheek.

A pained roar tore through the dune. Hesi rolled away as the spear's owner ruhed forward at the sound. She gripped her knife tighter, the sweat of her palms and of her arms making it harder by the second. The sun never relented. Neither should she.

"Come on!" she bared her teeth the same way the Mayaware did. Her eyes scanned the horizon. Two. Three. Four. Two more cresting the dune. It didn't matter. As long as Pai and Unsu were safe, she'd gladly keep these vapid creatures entertained.

She lunged, meeting another spear swinging for her head. Sand dusted her trousers, flung into her eyes, and scraped against her skin as she pivoted on bare feet upon meeting a curved blade. She gritted her teeth and pushed back, shoving its owner backward, straight into its advancing comrade. Skin and bones squelched and shattered against the sharp point.

Mayaware might be impenetrable from the waist up, but their rock-like scales meant they were also bulky. A little shake, a mere quiver from the knee, and they'd come toppling down like ebbing statues.

Hesi wiped the corner of her mouth, her knife glinting against the blasting rays. "Is that all you've got?"

A demon yanked its spear from its fallen comrade and faced her. "Human dare speak opposed with us?" it asked in its broken Birejyet. "She pay."

The Mayaware lunged, the others taking up the cue to join in. To them, Hesi was just another prey who dared think she could be something more. She wouldn't give them that satisfaction. She was Hesi Renen.

And she would be the last thing the Mayaware would see.

She slammed her foot against the demon's knee, forcing it to fold and let its owner down. The spear splotched to the sand and the wind did its best to cover it up. On her way to meet the oncoming demons, she flipped the shaft to her fingers with a flick of her foot. Her knife found its home beside the demon's head. Finally, it fell forward. Kneeling wasn't meant for creatures of the night. There was no mercy waiting for them.

Hesi screamed as she raised her newfound spear and met the one with the curved blade. She pushed back and swung. The head passed across the demon in a hairbreadth as it jumped back. So close.

A loud horn blasted through the desert. Hesi's spear sailed into empty air as the demons lost interest in her and turned towards the wooden cart wheeling over the dune. She chucked the spear. With her problematic aim and the demons' quickening shuffle, it landed on the sand with a silent thud.

The cart's walls thumped and human screams emanated through the spaces between the planks. A certain thread reached Hesi's ears, sending her gut to the chill of hell. Faces pressed against the cart's metal rails—poor excuse for a window—and they belong to...

"Pai! Unsu!" Hesi shouted, tearing after the cart. The Mayaware, with their glinting scales and sharp weapons, turned to her and dropped into a ready stance. They didn't attack, but Hesi stopped. There's twenty of them. She's just one woman.

Hesi Renen was on her own, and she had just fed her siblings to the fire.

As she watched the cart roll away, the only thing the desert could do for her was dim the sunlight and make the night come faster.