"In you go, witch," One of the guards spoke as the other pushed Farah into an open cell. The woman fell to the ground, sliding across the cold stone floor. The door closed with a clang, and the guards locked it before leaving. Laughing and chatting as if nothing had just happened. Sitting up, Farah ran to the bars, gripping them tightly.
The brunette tried to think of a spell to use to get her out of this situation. Anything would work. Anything. She shut her eyes, running her hands through her scalp, trying to think of something. Opening her eyes once more, Farah groaned, unable to think of anything. Amara must've come prepared, finding a way to block her mind from using magic. Scooting to the corner timidly, Farah curled into a ball in the corner, eventually falling asleep, ready to face whatever was to happen to her.
Hours passed, and soon, the ball was over. With the servants cleaning up, and Caspian stuck conversing with his parents, Amara slipped down into the dungeons. Storming down the hallways of the cellar with a grin on her face, the princess stopped, seeing the former maid sleeping peacefully. Rolling her eyes, Amara huffed.
"Alatar!" She hissed, staring straight at the woman in front of her, crossing her arms. A puff of blue-black smoke erupted next to Amara, and in seconds, a male stood next to her. His deep sunken eyes looked at the Princess, and then to the former maid in the cell.
"What's going on?" He asked gruffly, rubbing his eyes. "It's early in the morning, Princess, I don't know why-"
"I want her gone," Amara spoke above Alatar, not sparing a glance at the shertswire. "I don't care how, but I want her gone. Especially before the execution. Caspian will find a way to save her, and I don't want that. I want her gone," the royal spoke through gritted teeth.
"Oh, your majesty, it would bring me such pleasure to get rid of such a being, you-"
"Watch out, though, Alatar. She's a witch, and she-"
"She won't be able to compare to my magic, your majesty, and-"
"Don't cut me off like that," Amara huffed. At her words, Alatar took Amara's hand, planting a kiss upon it.
"Of course, your majesty. My most sincere apologies," the man spoke, letting go of the Princess' hand. "Now, how would you like me to get rid of this woman?" Alatar asked, watching the sleeping brunette.
"I don't care. Torture her for all I care, but don't let her get away, and don't let her out of that cell, or else she'll be able to use magic against you. Got it?" Amara asked, glancing at the shertswire next to her before striding off down the hallway. "And don't let anyone find out," she finished before walking around the corner and disappearing.
"Ah, yes, of course, my princess. Now," Alatar turned to the cell in which Farah lay. Opening the door, a creaking noise erupted, causing Farah to jerk up quickly. Seeing the male in front of her, she frowned, raising a brow.
"Who are you?" Farah asked softly, standing slowly, eyeing the figure before her. "Let me go, I've done nothing wrong, I-"
"Silence," Alatar said plainly, flicking his wrist. At his motion, Farah felt her body propel and hit the wall. She grimaced, crumbling to the ground, shaking vigorously.
"Who are you?" Farah asked once more, looked up at the male, her gown now covered in dust and dirt even more than before.
"I suppose I can share with you. You're going to be gone soon, anyways. If you must know, my name is Alatar. And I'm just about the strongest being you'd ever meet. I can end your life in seconds," he grinned devilishly, pulling his hand up in the air. Farah gritted her teeth together as she was lifted into the air, inches off the ground. Thrusting his hand in a downwards movement, Farah was slammed onto the floor. Tears stung her eyes as she looked back up at the man.
"You're the shertswire," Farah inhaled sharply as she felt a pain in her rib. "You're the-the one, you work for Amara, don't you," she spoke weakly.
"Ah, smart one, aren't you," he chuckled. "If only we were in different circumstances, I may be able to help you and that smart brain of yours, but, alas, we cannot always get what we want, now can we?"
"As if I'd ever want you to be on my side. I know your tactics. Pretending to do good for others, while all along you're just benefiting yourself," Farah managed to hiss. Alatar's eyes narrowed at her words. Clearly over her comments, Alatar took his hand, flexing it, and turning it clockwise. Farah felt the air leave her lungs, her hands now clutching her throat. Her eyes bulged, and she struggled to try and catch a breath. As he let go, Farah gasped for air, coughing and wheezing. The male threw his hand forward with little to no effort, and Farah hit the back wall once more, her head suddenly ringing. She had to get out of here. She had to escape. Standing, she staggered towards the cell door.
"Ah ah ah, not so fast," Alatar gave a laugh, clearly enjoying this. Grabbing Farah's wrist, he threw her against the wall. Turning his hand clockwise, keeping the woman stuck, his dark eyes gleamed dangerously. Farah blinked, dots appearing in her eyesight. She felt her heart shift, and her vision began to disappear. She felt so close to death, so close to escaping this world. Ready to give in, Farah closed her eyes, prepared for death. Willing to meet it like a close friend. Shaking, the woman suddenly felt an urge of hope, strength. Opening her eyes, she kneed the man in the stomach, watching him double over, not prepared for the blow. Stumbling, Farah threw the door to the cell open, in luck that Alatar hadn't locked it. Once out, she fell to the ground, shutting her eyes.
Now out, she felt stronger. Her head suddenly filled with her extensive knowledge that she had forgotten before. Standing, still shakily, Farah turned to Alatar who now stood straight again. The male looked ready to attack, angry that she had touched him. Lunging forward, he attempted to strike her, but she stepped to the side, watching as he flew past her. The male let out a yell, opening his palm, ready to strike her once more with magic, but she frowned, ready to counterattack him this time.
"Utekhar!" Farah spoke quickly and firmly, a golden-green translucent force field appearing around her. The spell Alatar was about to use soaked into the shield, providing the brunette with more energy to support her magic. Alatar continued to throw hits at her, both with magic and his body, but it did nothing to harm her. "Jekhta," Farah growled, throwing her hand forwards. Alatar was thrown backwards, sliding across the floor. As he hit the ground, Farah's force field disappeared on her command. To be quite honest, she had no idea where all this power was coming from; but she had a feeling that the necklace which glowed dimly around her neck, had something to do with it.
As Alatar attempted to stand, Farah threw her hand down, and he hit the ground once more, hard. He groaned, rubbing his head. Farah was about to use another easy spell to dismantle the man, when a voice erupted in her head.
Sektien.
Farah frowned. What did that mean? What even was it? It wasn't a spell. Not one that Farah knew, at least.
You are quite stubborn, not listening to me. Just trust me. Use your magic and say Sektien.
The brunette shook her head, watching Alatar who was beginning to get back up again. He seemed to be getting weaker by the moment. Farah took a deep breath, before speaking.
"Sektien," she firmly spoke, not moving her body. A green-gold light spun around Alatar before disappearing. He frowned, and Farah furrowed her brow in confusion. "It didn't do anything," she murmured to herself. Alatar stood, grinning devilishly, although bags were now visible under his eyes.
"Nice try, little girl, but you'll never be able to get rid of me. Never," he laughed cruelly. Farah stood in place, although she felt her heart rate speed up in fear. Spinning his hand, Alatar watched, waiting for Farah to fall to the ground, close to death. Instead, she watched him in confusion until realization hit her.
"It takes away your powers," Farah blinked before walking closer to Alatar, watching as he attempted to continue to harm her.
Now take his ring, it's what gives him his powers as a shertswire.
Farah furrowed her brow. That didn't keep a shertswire from using magic, did it?
I know what you're thinking, but you must believe me. He isn't like the others. He wanted the ultimate magic, so he transferred it to a ring, forged by one with far more magic than him. He knows barely anything without the ring.
Farah obeyed, going over to Alatar. He grit his teeth as she neared him, swinging a punch at her, although she blocked it. He swung with the other hand, and was able to hit her nose, although she acted like it didn't hurt. She felt tears sting her eyes once more, and lost feeling in her nose, but she held onto Alatar's other hand, feeling the ring. She reached for it, and he kicked her in the chin, causing her to grimace. Was there an easier way to do this? Because if so, she really wished that she knew it. Where was the voice now? Gone, it seemed. She couldn't feel her knee, and her nose now stung, but she continued to reach for the ring.
Altar clenched his hand shut, but it seemed Farah was stronger than him now, and so, she pulled the finger the ring was on so that she could slip it off. The ring eventually came off, and Farah felt more bruises forming where Alatar kicked and hit her. Holding the golden band in her hand, she watched Alatar somehow become duller in color.
"Now," Farah spoke. "You are going to take me to the King and Queen so we can explain what you and Amara have done, got it?" She hissed. Alatar watched her, anger and hatred burning in his eyes, though Farah saw a hint of insecurity and hurt. He nodded slowly, before Farah grabbed his arm and steered him off, away from the dungeons and towards the palace. She was ready to make things right.
She wasn't sure how, but she knew that Amara wouldn't get away with this. This was going to end,
once and for all.