THE girl awoke with a gasp. Her whole body was shaking from the cold that was seeping from the dirty ground beneath her. She could not remember how she had gotten here, unconscious, battered clothes, sore limbs, in the middle of the wretched woods of the island. The last thing that she could remember was being high up in one of the thorn-filled trees, scouting out the area for any possibility of her and her friend having dinner tonight. However, she sat there for hours waiting, losing the little hope she already had. It was near impossible to hunt on this island she called home. The livelihood was scarce, the greenery and fruitfulness that once covered these woods were dead, and the water could not be reached with the never ending thorns that trapped the people in the center.
At one point her friend had come up to her post on the tree to see if she'd come down and try to beg down by the markets of their village, but she refused. She would not as much as beg to those who mocked her and never treated her well. Instead, unbeknownst to her friend, she'd grown to favor pocketing those who showed no kindness, and used whatever spare change she could find to buy stale bread and hard cheese.
Knowing that the all too soon darkness would be covering the lands soon and that his friend would not drop her stubbornness, he perched up on an opposite branch and kept her company. They joked and laughed, even being able to shoot a misfortunate squirrel with a bow for them to share.
That was the last thing she could recall happening.
Had she somehow fallen out of the tree and blacked out? She tried getting up, but every limb in her body hurt at the mere pressure of pulling herself up. Gritting her teeth through the pain, she managed to lift herself into a sitting position. Some of the thorns from the trees had cut through her pants and tunic, leaving gashes along her light skin. Her head hurt and was pounding so much it was hard to focus.
Her eyes were out of focus so she squeezed them shut, but she still called to her friend, "Brodi?" There was no reply. "Brodi are you playing games with me right now? This isn't funny. Come help me up right now you arse." There was still no reply.
Feeling a bit anxious, she pressed her fingertips to her temple and forced her eyes open. Everything was dark, no star in sight. She recognized where she lay as the scouting spot, but as she looked around, there was no sign of Brodi.
Going against her protesting limbs, she lifted herself to a stance. Though her feet were swaying and she was losing balance and had to lean up against the closest thing to her, a tree. The girl hissed in pain as another thorn cut her palm. Her other hand was pressed to her lower abdomen, most likely bruised from whatever fall she had taken. After staying like that, trying her best to fight off the nauseousness at her throat and the dizziness in her head, she caught her breath and managed to make a slow ascent through the woods.
She knew this place like the back of her hand, even through the unnatural darkness that penetrated the air. By the lime is limped to the cabin that she and the boy shared on the outskirts of their village, she was ready to pass out. She pushed the door open with her shoulder and stumbled inside.
The cabin was just as they had left it before and there was no sign of the boy. "Brodi? Are you here?" She circled the whole of the confined space thrice. Her heart was beating so fast she swore she could hear it thundering in her ears. She stumbled outside, frantic, and puked.
She and the boy had never gotten to eat that squirrel so all she tasted going up her throat was pure acid, which in turn made her hurl even more. She just wanted to lie down beside her friend and pretend that none of this happened. She was so confused and she felt so sick.
But the girl fought off her nauseousness and went back into the thorn slick woods to find her friend. She called his name until her throat burned and her eyes stung from the tears rushing down her sunken cheeks. She was so weak and she hated herself. She wished she was stronger not only for herself but for her friend. He was all she had to live for.
But she was so tired.
I just need to rest for a couple minutes.
The girl leaned her heavy body against a tree, sliding her body down, feeling so numb she didn't feel the pinpricks of the thorns poking her bruised and scarred skin. Her lids felt so heavy and her body hurt so much that she succumbed to the darkness in the back of her mind.
~
The girl awoke in a dark room. She tried jerking herself up but found herself shackled to the ground. The weight of the chains burned her wrists and she groaned.
"Amira?"
At the sound of the hoarse voice she mangled her chains and fought her way to turn her body to where the sound had come from. Beside her, thrown haphazardly as she, on the stone ground of what seemed to be a dungeon, she met oh so familiar blue eyes.
"Brodi!" She managed to wheeze, but it was followed by a fit of coughs. "W-what's happening?"
"I'm not sure," he whispered. He jerked his head around the room and what caught her eye made her close her mouth and forget what she was about to say.
They were not alone in the small dungeon. Crowded around them were many men dressed in black, each donning a bandolier full of weapons. They stood there, unacknowledging their presence on the ground, as if waiting for someone; puppets in a pawn.
It did not take long, however, to find out who their master was. Dark shadows seeped through every corner of the room, gathering right beside her limp body. Just the knowledge of whatever the thing was, spawning beside her, set her into an erratic breathing. Her friend nudged her with a foot to try and calm her down, but not even his presence could calm down the anxiety building in the pit of her stomach.
She had never seen such a thing. She had thought she was insane, claiming she remembered a time of peace and magical creatures that lurked in the woods. No one had believed a thing she said, called her all types of things from lunatic and dramatic. The only person who had believed her was the boy beside her, trying so hard to calm down his friend.
He was her only friend. The only one crazed enough to approach the lunatic. She had hated him at first, believing that he was only there to taunt her and make fun of her as some part of a game. However, she had been wrong. He truly had wanted to be her friend. He got her to open up and tell him all the things she still remembered before the sun never shone again. Before the world became dark and bitter and no one could remember the friends with lurking eyes always watching over them. She began to trust him and cherish him.
Now she found herself here. Her only companion in the middle of a room surrounded by guards with no allegiance. And the billows of shadow gathering into one place. At first it was just a blob of black ink, but then she could start seeing what could have been a face. A beautiful face. Her body took form and right in front of her stood a pale woman with hair the darkest, midnight black. Her eyes were a shade of red, but not in a hauntingly way, no more like beautiful rubies on a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. Her robes were made of the darkest silk, framing her body just right.
The beautiful woman before her took a deep breath, caressing her flawless face with long sharp onyx nails, an enchanting bracelet dangling from her wrist. Taking her time, she cracked her neck, stretched, showing off her perfect figure to the guards; who were either drooling after their mistress or pressed so far against the wall, unable to staunch their smell of fear. The woman laughed, her voice like velvet and silk, a perfect harmony to a beautiful melody. Finally she looked down at the duo.
She crouched down in front of her and placed her cold hand to her cheek. The girl flinched. "Hello darling."
The woman gave such a wicked smile that the girl started to shed involuntary tears. An impending doom settling deep in her gut. "P-please," she hiccupped.
"Who are you?" The witch turned her gaze to the boy beside her. However, she ignored his presence and returned her gaze to the girl.
"It is no matter who I am." The wicked woman wiped the tears that stained the girls face. "Do you know who you are, darling?"
"Don't touch her!" The girl wanted to scream at her friend to be quiet. To shut his mouth before he got them both killed.
"Shut it boy. You shall talk when you are addressed."
"To hell with that! Let her go! What do you want, you wrench."
Obviously growing tired by the boy's protest, the witch stood, stepped over the shivering body of the girl and stopped in front of the boy. Her friend was already in the midst of grumbling another snarky remark when her hand connected with his cheek. The impact was so strong that his head snapped to the left, her nails leaving three long gashes.
"Brodi please," the girl rasped. At the sound of her voice, her friend stopped his protesting and looked at her. All he wanted to do was protect her and seeing her hurt, pained him so bad. However, the witch was not done with him. Wisps of shadow appeared at her fingertips and formed a hand that reached towards the boy's neck. It grabbed firmly, lifting the boy off the ground; the witch watching nonchalantly, admiring the might of her own power.
The girl watched as her friend started screaming in such agony the girl did not know what to do. The shadow hands left burning finger marks along his neck, squeezing the very life out of him. The girl could no longer stand there and watch as her only companion died by her own pride.
"Stop! Stop please! I b-beg you." The girl coughed trying so hard to get a coherent sentence out of her throat, fighting the acidness that was rising from her stomach again.
The wisps of shadow simply vanished, letting the boy fall ungracefully back to the stone floor. There was an audible crack and the boy cried out in pain. Blood dribbled down the side of his temple, obviously having opened a part of the membrane around the skull.
The girl screamed and wanted to run to the boy, to see if he was alright, partially forgetting where she was, who was in front of her. She wriggled in her chains, ignoring the pain in her very bones. The witch cajoled, "ah ah. I don't think so my darling." The girl tried moving again, but the witch stepped towards her again and spoke, "if you don't want to end up like you friends, love, I'd suggest you keep still."
The girl whimpered in response, relentlessly tugging to no avail. Her breathing was labored, voice rasped from screaming, "Who are you? What do you want with me?"
The witch kissed her teeth in disappointment. "I am not your enemy. I'm just very interested in the things you've said that made your whole village hate you so much. I want to know who you are, girl."
"I-I don't know what you're talking about."
With a shake of her head, the witch rolled her eyes. "So you've never rambled on about the magical folk of the forbidden forest? I would have expected you to at least hear of them since you are the delusional little girl who claimed she could see these creatures, no?"
The girl swallowed. It was true. She could not explain her dreams or memories, but it was so vivid that she thought it was true. At just the age of three she woke up not remembering her name and no one knew who her parents were. So she was just an orphaned girl who would never stop talking about her dreams.
At first, some of the children had thought her stories fascinating, but the more she spoke of it and claimed that it indeed was true, the more those children strayed from her and no one spoke to her all together.
When she did not speak, the witch grabbed her roughly by the chin. "Tell me. I won't call you crazy darling." The look in her eyes was maddening. It scared the girl that she physically could not speak, no matter if she tried. Though the witch took her silence as retaliation.
Snarling in anger, as if there were some type of animal trapped inside of her, she roughly grabbed the boy by the arm, hauling him up in front of her. With a swish of her hand, a sharp dagger appeared in her hands. She held the boy, the dagger at his neck and faced her again. The boy looked into her eyes, his eyes wide with fear.
"I think you should very well listen to me little girl or else I might just accidentally slip this knife across his neck." As proof to her words, she nicked a part of the skin on his neck, warm red blood pooling around the blade.
"P-please n-no. It was only dreams, I swear. I don't know w-what you want from me."
"You, of course. You have any idea why you were the only one that could see these things?" The girl huffed, "of course you don't. Dwelling with these mortals your whole life has left you a bit stupid. However, I need you to tell me what you saw, or else I might have to resort to killing your dear friend here."
The witch spoke in riddles and it was riling up whatever patience she had left. Even shackled and shivering with terror, the girl straightened her spine and lifted her chin, "I shall go nowhere with you." She had too much pride to go down without a fight.
Annoyance clear on the mistress' face, she shoved the boy to the nearest guard, the dagger disappearing within thin air. Another jerk of her chin and the guard smiled at her and drew another knife from his bandolier and placed it against his neck again. The witch stalked toward where she was bound, crouching right beside her. With another flick of her wrist a mirror appeared in her hands.
"What do you see?"
She saw her dirt stained face. Her eyes chocolate brown color and her mousy brown hair in knots, sticking out of the plait she had made earlier. Staring back at her from this small mirror was no one. Just a delusional little girl who couldn't even protect the only family she had left. "Nothing."
"You know what I see? I see a very powerful being suppressed within this pathetic body. Power unlike anything seen in this world yet locked within a deep well. Don't you want to come with me and see what you really are? To go to the place where you truly belong?"
There was a sudden curiosity that swelled in her chest. Wondering what life outside a ruined kingdom would be like. She was tired of the insufferable village she had to hovel herself in. One of the many trashed villages surrounding the very fallen castle where she would presume this dungeon belonged to. A castle where a great Queen and her King once ruled. Their reigns now a whisper in folklore, no one remembering what happened to the great kingdom and their powerful rulers. No one even dared rebuild the ruins of the kingdom, as if bound to the poverty filled villages, no sign of hope in their eyes. She was tired of the people she had to reside with, dealing with their taunts and disgraceful words. None of them believe her tales of a once magical kingdom.
She never really belonged in that village. Knew that there was something out there calling to her. Beyond the thorns of the dead trees that suffocated the entirety of her village, isolating them within. She always wondered why she had hope and others were so dull in the prospect of life. But someone held her back from the calls beyond the destruction. The boy that stood on the doorstep of death in front of her. She would never leave him, especially in the grasps of the wicked people of their village. She did not care about whatever nonsense this beast in front of her claimed. She was content in her little hut, living with her only friend.
"I do not seek something that does not exist. I am perfectly content with where I am and you can go to hell with your bullshit." The girl coughed again.
The mistress having enough with her smart mouth and attitude, smashed the mirror at her feet. Pieces digging into her pants and shards, big and small, scattered around where she remained kneeled and shackled to the ground. "Give me the boy."
"I tried the nice way girl, but I am quite frankly very tired of your attitude. If you wish to remain in this cursed hovel, then so be it. But you shall do it alone for the rest of your eternity as payment for your stupidity."
With the boy now thrown at her feet, blood and dirt smeared on his beautiful face, she summoned a wicked looking whip. The girl shouted in protest, but could not stop what her pride had brought onto the boy. The witch lashed at the boy, grunts of pain pushing past his mouth.
The girl flinched with every crackle against his body, shaking with anger. "Stop it! Please! I'll go with you! I'll tell you anything you want! Just please let him go."
The witch regarded her only with a twitch of her mouth, continuing her onslaught of terror on the boy. After several lashing where the boy cried and shook with pain, the mistress finally stopped. She kicked the boy in the gut, shoving him near the feet of the guards who just watched. There were some who even laughed at the spectacle.
The girl looked at each one of them, remembering their faces so that when she got out of these chains, she'd rip right into their throats, rendering them incapable of ever laughing again. "I've had quite enough."
The witch having given up on her initial approach gathered her robes and started to dissolve into that black smoke once more. This time the guards also fading into that nothingness along with their mistress. However before they could all vanish, a black shadow hand appeared from the smoke. It took form of something sharp and while the witch looked at the girl once more, her eyes flashing red, she said "I hope the next time we meet girl, you'll have learned to not be incompetent and not take my words for granted." With that the sharpness of the shadow found its way deep inside the gut of the wounded boy; disappearing with the rest of the court of nightmares.
The girl looked at the boy lying in front of her. Blood gushing out of his wounds. "It's all my fault," she hiccuped. Her pride, her stupidity, had gotten her nowhere. She went to find her friend, but in turn just gave him over to death.
The boy looked at her, breath rasping as he tried to find words. "N-no, it's okay. It's not your fault." He looked at her with such longing, she had to look away. His fingers twitched, wanting to touch her, but his bound hands were too far from where she was shackled.
Looking at his hands, she realized that there was no one else to blame but herself. She shook her head, heaving at the scene she had created. "I'm so sorry."
A faint smile gleamed on his bloody lips. "It's not your fault," he repeated. He said it so gently as if he was grateful to die by her side, to die for her.
She felt an icy rage set in her veins as she not only looked at herself within the shards of glass around her, but at the innocent boy in front of her. That even at the brink of death, did not so much as hate her as everyone else did, did not blame her for being so prideful and selfish.
She picked up one of the shards of glass, letting it pierce her calloused hands. She squeezed, wanting to feel the pain she invoked, wanting to feel her very blood spill through her fingers and onto the ground.
"P-please. Don't hurt yourself darling. It will all be o-okay," he coughed out blood. "Don't stop living on my account. Go beyond those walls and find what has always c-called upon y-you. I-I just held, " another cough, "you back. I'm okay."
How could he say that? Be okay with what she had done?
She looked at the beautiful boy she had grown affectionate of. The only person that believed her about the magical folk she dreamed of without calling her delusional. The only person who did not look at her as a weak, did not choose what parts to love about her, but looked at her as family and looked at her fully; loving her unconditionally. She looked at this boy, tattered blood stained clothes, welts of lashes and bruises marring his sickly pale skin, looked at the silver lined blue eyes she loved so much. How could he still love her, when her inner monster just made him suffer in unimaginable ways?
He smiled at her again, as if knowing every racing thought pounding in her head. His breath rasping as if he wanted to say more, but simply couldn't. He knew what was coming, knew that he'd be gone soon. So he just looked her in the eyes; the whisper of "I love you" on his last dying breath. She looked right back, never breaking contact. Watched as the very light of life dimmed from his blue eyes. Watched her own downfall.
Hot tears slid down her dirty face. Eventually a sob broke from her lips, breaking the ever-growing silence in the darkness of the dungeon in which she was still shackled to. She had no intention of getting herself out, wanting to feel every single bit of pain the world had to offer her. She did not deserve love, she was nothing and she did not deserve any happiness. Yet she took what was not hers. Took some love for herself and at the end had to suffer the consequences. Had to watch as that affection and happiness she stole, was taken back. Watched as a part of her soul was ripped from her body.
She never even got to tell him she loved him.
She hated herself more for that.
She lost track of time. The fresh blood from the cuts of the glass already dried, her tears already wept to the dregs. She just sat there, chains gnawing at the skin of her wrists. She had no one else in this God-forsaken world. She did not want to feel anymore.
Chanting this in her mind, so anyone above could hear her misery. Not being able to contain her agony anymore, she screamed. A sound so inhumane and broken, bellowing out the sadness and anger from within. Even when her voice cracked, she did not stop; could not stop.
Panting hard, her breath started forming smoke, as if the very insides of her were starting to burn. She felt herself heating up, past whatever a normal mortal could withstand. The shackles around her wrists and ankles started to glow red from the heat. Boiling to the point where it melted off her very flesh, into nothing.
She lifted the glass that was still fisted in her hand and looked at herself again. No longer was she looking at the girl that was before the witch; the girl who she claimed was nothing. As if the words of the witch came to life, awakening a beast within her, her eyes changed from the black void into bright violet orbs. She dropped the glass in shock, then realized that the cuts on her palms too were glowing with that burning blue. Her gums started to ache, the pounding headache that had consumed her before magnifying a tenfold, ears ringing so loud. She felt as if her very skin was shifting, elongating. But she did not care what was happening to her, the pain felt so good.
If this was going to be how she died, then so be it. Let this whole place bloody burn to the ground along with her. As if a lock deep inside of her finally clicked open, she screamed as the monster within her shoved it's way though.
Bright purple flames encompassed her, such undiluted power, untethered from its shackles at last. The hairs on her arms lifted, along with the hair atop of her head. The rags of clothes that she once wore burnt with the heat of her body. The stone floor marring with ash.
And before she saw nothing at all, exhausted by the burst of foreign power that freed itself, she saw the body of the beautiful boy burning bright with her scorching flames.