There was such silence. Such darkness. It pressed in, suffocating. There was nothing to light the darkness, nothing to push it back. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. All there was was the darkness and her. She tried to scream, tried to move tried to do anything, but nothing happened. Her body could not or would not listen. Aelin wondered if she was doomed to be stuck in this pressing dark forever. It was so dark that she couldn't tell what her surroundings were. Was she in a room? In that coffin again? Or was she stuck in a tomb, dead to the world, dead to everyone but herself?
Eventually, Aelin stopped trying to scream, stopped trying to fight. Nobody would hear her. Nobody would try to get her out. She had always wondered what hells would await her after death, and this exceeded her expectations. Stuck in a void, alone, unable to see or hear or move.
Flame erupted around her, hot and bright and burning. She gasped in relief, the darkness slowly burning away, but it was cut off when a tongue of flame flicked out with a furious snap, burning her flesh. She cried out, finding her voice st last, and pulled away, relieved to understand her body could respond again, only to find more flames at her back, and more surrounding her.
She wanted the darkness back. She wanted the fire gone. People emerged from the darkness as the flame burned it away, either staring at her or in deep conversation with one another. They didn't seem to notice the flames. She needed to warn them. Gasping for air, she tried to cry out to them. Go! The fire will kill you! But her throat was constricted, and her voice came out a hoarse whisper. The smoke was stinging her eyes, the flame aggressively burning her skin.
The people parted, and Aelin nearly collapsed when she saw the person staring at her in horror and rage. "You promised," Nehemia whispered, the light of the fire reflecting in her eyes like the fires of hell themselves. It might as well have been a roar. "Everything I've done for you, and this is what you do." She shook her head and turned away. Aelin tried to call out, but her voice was still that hoarse whisper. She tried running toward her, but whichever way she stepped, roaring flames leaped up to block her path.
The people began screaming as the flames hungrily engulfed them, burning their skin and boiling their blood. Aelin gagged at the scent of burning meat, at the sound of the fats sizzling. She wanted the screams to stop, but when they eventually did, all that was left was the fire, burning, snapping, eating whatever it could.
"Good," she heard a voice murmur, and despite the fire, despite the smoke and burning, Aelin's insides turned cold. She turned to see the onyx hair, the soulless black eyes and ruby mouth. Maeve smiled, and while it was beautiful... it was an ugly thing. "Good."
"One thought from me, and your city will burn.
"It is stone."
"Your people aren't."
And they weren't. The fire had no problems turning them to ashes on a breeze.
Aelin snapped awake, sweat slicking her skin and dampening her hair. Bright light was all around her, and for a moment, Aelin panicked. Then she realized it was sunlight and blew out an unsteady breath.
Rowan was gone, probably busy helping Aedion keep Terrasen's allying armies in shape. Though from what her cousin had told her, they were more beating them half to death than training them. Normally, she might have been amused, might have teasingly told Aedion that it was the only thing males knew how to do anyway, but Aelin had just nodded and went back to being a wraith.
When Rowan had told her about Sollemere just after Remelle, Essar, and Benson had left, Aelin had tried to imagine it. How it must have felt to level an entire city and wipe it from existence. All she'd been able to think about at the time was how horrifying it could be to weild one's power so cruelly. She hadn't understood what it could do to someone's mind.
Now she did.
Maeve hadn't wanted her dead. Maeve wanted to make use of her. Aelin had thought that meant being some kind of slave for eternity. It was worse than that. So, so much worse.
Aelin, trembling like a newborn fawn, roused herself from bed, stumbled to the bathing room, and was thoroughly sick.
Oh Lord. I never thought this story would get to chapter 40. I need to go back in time and slap past me and shake her shoulders. "You fool, it's not just gonna be a 20-or-so chapter story!"
I'm so thankful to you guys for supporting me through this process, even though it's not always very good (I mean, come on, my life just decided to become interesting once I committed to something, so sometimes it's not as good as it could be).