But if she does that, it means I have to leave them. Leave the beautiful white flowers I planted just this spring, leave my father’s maps and our memories together, my mother and her sweet linen smell…
Leave Hanin.
Before I know it, she’s flung my weak body upward, and I’m lying across the horse.
I start thrashing trying to gain my escape because I can’t leave them there. Leave them to sit out for the buzzards and scavengers to pick apart. Leave them to rot in the sun and bloat.
Flailing and clawing only makes my vision go blurry. The woman grabs me firmly by the face, and I cease my fighting. I watch the tears stream down her cheeks and with a moment of clarity I realize she’s repeating the same phrase over and over.
“They’re gone.”
The sound of dripping water is the first thing to wake me from sleep that threatens to drag me back under. Hazily, I look around the room, trying to get my bearings. The throb in my head is relentless, pounding so furiously I could hurl.
The darkness has swallowed any light, and my eyes struggle to make sense of my surroundings. Blindly, I reach to my right and feel a wall, cold and damp, and shift my legs laying haphazardly.
I must be underground based on the cool damp earthen stone which is reassuring as I assumed this could have been the veil.Gods that would have been an underwhelming welcome into paradise.My chest tightens—air constricting like a fire asp has coiled around my lungs. I delicately rub my eyes, willing the floating orbs to dissipate and clear my vision. My hand moves shakily down my jawline and lingers over my throat as I swallow thickly. Waking up to this much darkness was enough to make me question if I’d been claimed by the mors finalum.
The floor beneath me is hard, letting the cold penetrate into my bones, gnawing away at my resolve. Memories linger faintly as I process my surroundings. The tinge of those all too real nightmares stain my mind. I’d dreamt ofthem,of Hanin and my parents.
Those are the only times where I can hold them even if it always ends with me reliving our tragic goodbye.
Loneliness worms itself into my thoughts. Sitting up, I blink away the echoing phantoms. My breath hitches as my skull threatens to explode with the sudden movement. I place my back against the wall and bring my knees to my chest, allowing the blood to quit pooling in my legs. Sharp, severe pains jolt up my legs and I’m forced to catch my breath. My toes writhe with the sensation. I quickly begin massaging my numb legs and finally exhale as the prickling eases.
As my body begins to wake, my mind grounds itself to the reality before me. The memory of what happened slowly trickles in almost in unison to the constant dripping of this prison.
Caym unconscious at the hands of The Nightmare while I watched helplessly behind the curtains. The Devourer. His surprise in seeing my rarity.
“Fuck.” The obscenity croaks out in a whisper. I’m doomed now that he’s seen my magic.
Even if I don’tknowhow to use my magic, not truly.
The king chattels women with powers like mine, hoping to produce his perfect heir. It’s rumored he’s cursed to never have magic in his bloodline, especially rarities such as mine.
But that doesn’t stop him from growing his menagerie.
This alone is what spurs him. For his hunt of magical people, his devotion and sacrifices to the gods to obtain the one thing he can’t have. Magical power.
It’s always surprised me just how many followers he has despite his cruel methods, specifically the followers that are blessed with magic in their veins. I’ve heard it said that they believe the gods to be unfair in their blessings, and to have a king in place with magic thrumming in his veins would only help to please the gods.
I often find myself pondering this. Surely the Sun God and Moon Goddess couldn’t be pleased having a madman on the throne who claims to burn and torture his people, and worse, use his henchmen to send us to the veil.
I clench and unclench my fists in hopes that it would ease the tingling that hasn’t ceased its pestering hold. One. Two. Three drops of water land on my head, landing in perfect unison as the throb that invades my skull.
“I’m awake, you bastard.” My voice cracks.
Silence, aside from the continuous, aggravating drip that’s begun to annoy me, pierces my eardrums with its finality. Didthey really just expect me to go silently? The thought causes my lips to contort into a sneer and deep rage begins to coil in my belly.
“I said I’m awake, you inhumane cucks!” My voice strains with the scream causing me to wince.
I never thought I would long to see something even if it was monstrous, then be stuck in this abyss.
My head falls to my knees and I curl inward in an attempt to warm myself. I’m unsure which eats at me more, the bone—chilling cold, or my own self loathing for getting in this situation.
If only someone would come and put me out of my misery and reveal to me if Caym is okay. How could he be when the last time I did see him he was that sickly pallor that made his skin look grayish while his face twisted into unrecognizable features? And does Leeson know? My stomach roils against that prospect.
She’s been my rock in this world, the tether to this life I needed in my darkest moments, the ones I would never utter to a soul. But this time she’s the one who’s adrift and alone.
I’m unsure of how to navigate being trapped and incapable. The strange feeling that often takes hold of me and makes my soul sink into despair and hopelessness begins to creep in and memories of that night echo distantly in my mind. Floating ash that was far too eager to swallow me up alongside everything else the flames consumed. The roaring fire that licked flesh and burned bones into dust.
