Private Tales Pact of Flame

[Azrakar]

Azrakar sat upon his throne. It was almost time.

He turned his head towards his servants. They were mostly dark orcs, the kind that lived beneath the ground. The scarlet flame that wreathed his black form occasionally formed a crown. Sometimes it was a cloak.

"They shall arrive soon."

The guards trickled out of the throne room. He could not clear the entire mountain, but if The Descendant couldn't deal with a few orcs then they were not worthy.

The Prophecy would not be stopped by a few guards.

His kingdom had been crumbling. Hundreds of years ago he had slaughtered an order of demon hunters.. It had been a true cocophany of chaos and despair.

They had used the sacrificial power of their deaths to curse him. Azrakar had paid in blood to hear the prophecy, but knowing had only made it harder to maintain his patience through the centuries that followed.

Now that the moment was here, it was difficult to contain his anticipation.

 

[Saeris]

Six was their number - the Veilguard, blades sworn and blessed, moving as one through the bowels of the mountain.

The tunnels stank of rot and damp. Mud and ichor clung to her boots, the splatter of black and red blood on her skin cooling against pale flesh. Every kill was quick, clean; the golden flare in Saeris’ eyes the only sign of the borrowed power running beneath her veins.

Orc. Goblin. Wretched hybrids of the two. None lasted long under their assault. Their bodies lay twisted in the gloom, their blood pooling in the dirt.

They pressed on, and soon the tunnel widened, air shifting with a faint tremor that Saeris felt in her ribs. She held a hand up for the others to halt.

Ahead, faint light, not the flicker of torchfire, but the unnatural, shifting glow of something far older, far hungrier.

She glanced to her second. “Stay sharp,” she murmured, though her voice was low enough to be meant more for herself than them.

Her fingers closed around the Shard of Kael’Syth, the silver filigree biting into her palm as the whisper came and the air chilled around her.

He's here.. Waiting..

 

[Azrakar]

"There you are."

His voice reverberated as if it came from every shadow in the hall. Azrakar looked up from his throne. He remained seated, one hand resting upon the pommel of a sword as tall as each of them.

"Did you truly have to make such a mess on the way?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

His lethargy seemed to fade as his raised his head. The flames brightened around his neck, flowing down his back.

"Which of you is the youngest?" he called out. "Where is my prohecy?"

 

[Saeris]

Saeris had seen demons before. Some twisted, some towering, some cunning, all terrifying in their own right. But none like the one that sat upon the black throne. He was taller than any she had ever seen, his sheer size making the cavernous room feel smaller around them.

She stepped forward along side the others, their weapons drawn, ready. The demon's voice skittered over rock and slithered over her skin, a shudder racing down her spine in its wake. A spike of cold shot through her gut fear, sharp and sudden. She locked her jaw against it, forcing her shoulders square, but the thrum in her chest refused to slow.

He asked his question, and the silence that followed was long enough to make the hair on her arms lift. She didn’t answer. None of them did. Whatever prophecy he spoke of, it was his madness, not theirs.
Her golden eyes locked on the Hollow King’s towering form, but her grip never wavered on her sword’s hilt.

Behind her, beside her, the Veilguard stood like shadows, their faces tight with grim determination. Yet, beneath the armour and whispered prayers, she caught the flicker of hesitation, a breath held too long, she felt their eyes shift to her in mute answer to the demon's question.

"We know not of your prophecy, Demon. We've just come for your head." Teren spoke beside her, stepping forward, his twin swords ready at his sides.

The Shard of Kael’Syth pulsed against her throat, once a steady heartbeat in the dark, now a jagged rhythm that felt almost alive. Saeris narrowed her eyes, sensing a shift in the whispering voice within. It was no longer a guiding light, but something darker, more demanding, its secrets curling like smoke in her mind.

I showed you the way.. it breathed, and she swore she could feel it's amusement. Because you are the key..

 

[Azrakar]

His eyes locked upon hers. Azrakar sighed in relief. The wait was over. He tilted his head to one side. Great horns leaned and his crown of flame flickered to life.

"At last," he said. He spoke directly to the last scion. His gaze looked her up and down. Azrakar could feel the presence of the demon in her hand.

He hadn't known how the prophecy would come to pass. It didn't feel right that the fragment of another demon was involved in the corruption. After all the waiting he would take whatever route brought him his freedom.

"You do not understand how glad I am to..."

One of the other humans shouted a challenge. In a warning, Azrakar lifted one hand. The ground trembled.

"Show some respect," he spat.

The last scion was here. Their futures wee entwined. She would rule beside him, once he had completed her corruption and broken the curse.

"We may as well get this over with," he said.

Azrakar finally stood up and lifted his sword.

"Who will be first?"

 

[Saeris]

Saeris' knuckles paled on the hilts of her shortswords as the demon rose to his feet, as his gaze settled on her in such a way that she hadn't expected. Her pulse pounded in her ears as her adrenaline surged through her, brow furrowing in confusion as the Shard against her throat burned, its thrum quickening in a rhythm that wasn’t her own. Something was wrong..

Key?..

'At last?..'

What the fuck was happening?

When he snapped his warning about 'respect', she almost laughed. A demon king demanding courtesy from the people he’d slaughtered generations for. Her lip curled into a sneer, sharp and cold. She walked forward, her blades glinting in the firelight as she twisted them in her palms. The runes etched along the steel held a faint glow, the same molten gold of her eyes as she looked up at him, defiant.

She wasn't alone for long. Two of her number were already chanting as they moved behind her, calling open the void that they intended to cast the demon back into. Another, armed with vials of liquid she'd seen burn demons through, and two more flanked her with weapons of their own.

"I agree.. Let's." she answered with more confidence than she felt right now.

Around her, the Veilguard tightened their formation, but Saeris didn’t take her eyes off him, not when every instinct screamed that the real danger wasn’t just the monster in front of her, but the thing burning into her skin at her throat.

Let me out, let me out, let me out...

 

[Azrakar]

"Do you have any idea how many of your kind I have dealt with?" he called out.

"Curse and betrayed and weakened and trapped. Yet even know that you would dare to send so few..."

Azrakar flinched. He felt the shift in magic as they started their chant. He took a step forwards. Darkness encroached. He spoke several words beneath his breath. A counter spell that twisted and writhed around their own magic.

The hunter at Saeris' left hissed. Her voice stopped and she started to make muffled, panicked sounds. She brought her hands to her mouth, unable to part her lips.

Obsidian night cut through the air like spears. A flashy show as a distraction. A few stray spikes of darkness glanced off armour. Azrakar raised his sword with his right hand and lifted his left.

The panicked hunter behind Saeris suddenly shot forwards out of the group, not on her feet but in the grasp of dark magic. She flew right onto the point of Azrakars's blade.

She looked down upon the great blade, right through her gut. She cried out once as Azrakar released his spell of silence.

Then he swung his blade back and forth. The first of their number almost seemed to simply fall to pieces around him.

"Next," he cried out, seemingly energised by the challenge.

 

[Saeris]

She was too distracted, and it was going to get her killed. The weight of Azrakar’s presence pressed on every sense she had, but it was Marcia’s scream that ripped through her focus like a blade.

It happened so fast. One moment the woman was chanting, the next she was writhing in the grip of some unseen force, straight onto the demon’s waiting blade.

Her golden eyes went wide. “No!” The cry tore itself from her before she could stop it.

The sound of steel shearing through flesh and bone jolted her into motion. She and Teren broke from the line in the same breath, boots pounding against stone as they closed the distance.

Saeris came in low, her blade a swift arc aimed for the hollow between his ribs while Teren struck high, his blade aimed to drive the demon king back. Behind them, one of the others still chanted, their voice rising in a desperate attempt to tear open the void and swallow him whole.

Yes… closer… The demon in her mind whispered.

She gritted her teeth and drove her strike home.

 

[Azrakar]

He felt alive. As the tug of the void grew more persistent he felt a flash of fear. All this time beneath the mountains and they finally sent a team to try and eradicate him. Azrakar even felt joy in knowing that he was finally in command of his destiny.

He could die today, or he could fulfill the prophecy.

His blade swung down. He didn't just block Saeris, he let her feel his strength. The weight of the blade would send a jolt of pain through her arm.

Azrakar seemed to melt into darkness as he backed away. They would gain some room to surround him, but the air in the room changed.

Above his head a sphere of dark liquid formed. A swirling vortex of shifting energy. It collapsed. Utter darkness turned to a pinpoint of brilliant white. They would have a moment to shield themselves before white streaks of light shot outwards. A hundred straight lines of light, as if the fabric of reality had cracked like glass.

"You should be please!" Azrakar called out to Saeris. "For it is our progeny that will inherit the world. Not me."

Behind her, one of the hunters coughed one and then collapsed into an expanding pool of their own blood.

 

[Saeris]

Had it not been for the Shard at her throat, burning power into her veins, the Hollow King’s strike might have cut her clean in two. Pain rattled through her bones and she braced, hissing through gritted teeth as she held her ground.

She had been readying for another strike when the air shifted. Her golden eyes snapped upward to the mass above him, and the chamber itself seemed to hold its breath.

Saeris staggered back, boots scraping against stone. All around her the remaining Veilguard did the same, some keeping their chants going through clenched teeth, others throwing up desperate wards of light and steel. She threw her own shield together, and her arm raised against her face as the world split in white fire.

Then his voice cut through it. Words meant for her. Her attention wrenched back to him in confusion, her jaw clenching so tightly it ached. Progeny. The bile rose in her throat, her face twisting into a snarl of pure disgust.

"Our progeny??"

“You think I’d ever carry your corruption?” she spat, fury cracking through her voice. “I’d sooner bleed myself dry on this floor than bear one drop of your filth.”

The last word was still leaving her lips when the sound of coughing broke her focus. She turned just in time to see Kallis crumple, the book slipping from her hands and clattering against the stone before her body folded into the spreading pool of blood.

Shit.

They were losing this fight. She and Teren shared a look. They each drew the bottles, blessed with pure and natural magic, the kind that hurt monsters like the Hollow King. He threw one, then another as Saeris moved back, slicing her palm quickly before wrapping her hand tight around the shard as she spoke to it, drawing on it's power.

The language she spoke was long dead, words her mother had taught her to cast demons away.

“Veyrith shael’koran,
Naresh’tul voran,
Kael’Syth, vres annas res,
Veyrith! Veyrith! Veyrith!”

....

Nothing. Saeris paled, feeling the chill of dread rush down her spine. She gripped the shard tighter in her bleeding palm. "Kael'Syth, vres annas res--" she said quickly, calling to the shard to answer, but it was silent. It refused her.

"Veyrith shael'koran... Naresh'tul voran... Kael'Syth, vres annas res... Veyrith, Veyrith...Veyrith..."

The shard went cold, and the glowing, molten gold of her eyes dulled. She blinked, her heart pounding as the power abandoned her.

"Get out - now!"

 

[Azrakar]

“I’d sooner bleed myself dry on this floor than bear one drop of your filth.”

That was good to know. If she was so determined to end her own life he would need to bind her. She would come to understand her place in this. In the gift she had been given.

Azrakar wouldn't have their future taken away by a single swipe of a blade. He would - however - end each of these invaders the same way.

"Get out - now!"

"No running. You all chose this."

Azrakar didn't move. Flame spread in a circle around the hall. If they knew how to undo demonic magic then they would be able to break through. It would take time. Otherwise to walk through such flames was a death sentence.

"You keep chanting," he told the prophecised one. Azrakar stalked forwards, blade in hand. He had three others to kill first.

He thrust his blade straight forwards. He struck armour but with enough force that the human inside was thrown to their back. Azrakar walked forwards and stamped down upon that hunter.

 

[Saeris]

Saeris’ jaw clenched as flames roared outward, curling high into a burning wall that sealed them in with the monster. They almost ran straight into it, heat licked at her skin, searing and suffocating, no way through, not without time they did not have.

Her hand flew to her belt. Fingers closed around a vial of silvery liquid, runes etched along its sides. She tore it free, smashed it against the stone at the demon's feet. She'd seen it burn demons through, watched the gas it emitted attack their senses, and she could only hope it would distract him and give them a little more of an advantage than they currently had..

Saeris snatched up her short swords, the steel hissing and glowing white as white fire raced up the lengths of the blades. She lunged, both blades flashing as she launched her attack.

Beside her, Teren broke from the line with a roar. His twin swords too, blazed to life, white flame consuming them.

Behind them, another voice picked up the chant, her voice trembling out the beginnings of the spell that could unravel the circle of flame.

Saeris pressed forward, her golden eyes narrowed with fury, every strike a denial of the future the demon spoke of. “You won’t have me,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Not in this life. Nor the next.”

 

[Azrakar]

Azrakar relished the symphony of dying screams. Steel rang and shattered, prayers faltered on broken lips, and the scent of scorched flesh carried like incense to his lungs. The hunters had come with zeal blazing in their eyes, but zeal was brittle. It cracked when faced with true fire.

A part of him wanted her to accept her fate. It was her destiny. It was their destiny. Another part of him would savour the resistance. He had to hold that part in check.

When her spell struck, it burned. Not the searing heat of flame but a cold brand etched into his chest. It was a sudden reminder of what he had been before corruption claimed him.

Azrakar staggered a step. A cry of pain twisted into laughter even as his flesh hissed and cracked. Her magic hurt him. She was no mere soldier.

Searing white blades came for him. She was bright and defiant. Saeris. She moved with desperate precision. Every strike meant for his heart, every invocation of her magic laced with her faith.

That faith needed to falter.

He danced with them both. For his size he was fast. Four demon hunters remained and they had shown they could hurt him. In his prime, before the curse, he had felled most of their order on his own. Anger powered his blows.

Saeris was drawing on a dark power. He didn't understand that, not yet. Perhaps it was a key to the prophecy. Had she sealed her fate by drawing demonic strength into her zealous magics?

A blade struck his shoulder. Azrakar twisted away but then snapped back. His claws raked across her side, tearing through armor and flesh. The other sword bearer shouted her name, but Azrakar was ready for his counter.

His flaming sword came down in a wide arc. Teren's swords - and his arms - slid across the floor.

From the ground the man turned towards Saeris. As he started to speak, Azrakar's blade came straight down from above. Teren curled up like a wounded spider around the blade through his chest. He spat blood. The light left his eyes.

The loathing in her eyes set something jagged stirring in him — admiration, hunger, memory. Whatever it was, it stayed his hand when instinct screamed to crush her throat.

Instead, he turned to slaughter the last of her companions.

 

[Saeris]

Pain tore through her side like fire and ice at once, claws ripping through armour and flesh as though she were nothing but wet parchment. She stumbled, a scream tearing from her throat, raw and ragged, echoing off the cavern walls. Knees hit the stone, and she sank, trembling hands pressed against the gashes, blood slicking her fingers. Every inhale burned.

Her golden eyes widened as she saw Teren. He turned, the light in his eyes flickering with disbelief, pain, and an unspoken inevitability. Her hand shot out toward him, desperate, useless.

“No!!”

The demon’s blade fell with precision, and he was gone. The sound of it, the finality, ripped through her like a physical blow. Her scream twisted into something keening, broken, as if her heart itself had shattered and she had no room for air or thought.

She lifted her gaze, vision swimming with tears, to see the demon striding toward the last two of her companions. The weight of their impending deaths pressed on her chest along with the others, dragging at her lungs, burning her gut with guilt. The last two, innocent and alive now faced the monster she had led them to.

Shaking, she forced herself to her feet. Bloodied and trembling, the shard thrummed at her throat, whispering in a tone she wasn’t sure was guiding or mocking. The surviving hunters hurled vials and chanted as best they could, white fire flashing in desperate bursts against Azrakar’s shadow.

The flames had died down enough to give them space to act, but it was not enough. Every spell, every vial, every desperate scream of incantation felt weak in the face of him.

"Enough! Let them go!"

She took the short spear from her back, and pushed her pain from her mind as she threw it at the demon King's back.

 

[Azrakar]

The spear didn't find it's mark. The demon turned. He was a towering figure of shadow and flame. He caught the spear and it turned to ash in his hand.

Azrakar savored the fight in her glare. Her defiance offered him new life already. He turned and thrust his blade into the ground between them.

“Look at me,” Azrakar said, simple and direct. Saeris’s catch of breath echoed in his mind like flint striking stone.

One of the remaining hunters was suddenly in his outstretched hand. Flames licked around them and they screamed. Their legs kicked hopelessly in the air.

"Why?" he voice echoed around the hall. "You all came here full of arrogance to end me. Would you have stopped if I begged for mercy?"

The other hunter was chanting. Azrakar turned to look down at them. They stopped chanting. Not because of his magic, but his presence. This was a moment for him and the scion alone. He turned back to Saeris.

"Why?" he demanded.

 

[Saeris]

“Look at me.”

Saeris did. Her eyes burned with too many emotions to name, but guilt cut deepest of all, sharper than the rage, sharper than the grief or the pain or the hate. It was her arrogance he spoke of, her ambition to succeed where others had failed, where even her parents had failed.

Her eyes closed for the span of a heartbeat, another hot tear slipping free as she tried to shut out the sound of Mattias’s screaming. She shook her head, then forced her gaze back to the demon, letting fury burn through the haze of pain.

“No,” she answered him honestly. “There would have been no mercy for you.”

Her jaw clenched. Mattias screamed louder. With a sharp cry, Saeris’s arm snapped forward. The dagger flew not at Azrakar, but at Mattias. It struck true, sinking into his chest and cutting off his screams in an instant, ending his torture. His body went limp.

Lyza’s voice cracked into prayers, stumbling backward, clutching her charms. But no gods would answer here. Not in this place.

Saeris’ chest heaved, every breath jagged, wet with blood. Her side burned where his claws had ripped her open, but the hollow in her chest hurt worse. She lifted her gaze to him again, shadow and flame, towering like some mockery of a god.

“I wanted your head mounted on our walls,” she spat. “I wanted to do what so many before me failed to do. I wanted vengeance for my family before me. For every soul you slaughtered..”

Her voice cracked, and she swayed on her feet. Blood soaked her leathers, squelching in her boot with every unsteady step. Her face had gone pale, her body weakening, but her eyes never left him.

He wanted her alive. That much she understood.

Her trembling hand went to her belt and drew another dagger, lifting it high. Not to throw this time. Its point pressed over her heart, just below the shard that burned hot against her skin.

“Let her go. Let me save one,” she tried to demand, but her voice cracked with the plea that it was, dagger poised to drive into her chest.

 

[Azrakar]

Azrakar watched as Saeris trembled, dagger hovering over her heart. It was poised there in both desperation and defiance. Blood dripped from her wounds and her companions lay broken at her feet. Silence had fallen. It was a hush born of fear and reckoning. He felt the moment itself. It was a pivotal moment. It was destiny.

He tilted his head. The flames flickerered low across his horns, casting molten shadows across his face. For an instant she would see something more human in his features.

“You bargain with me,” he said voice low and resonant, echoing off cold rock.

“You offer to save one to avoid spilling your own life. That… is bold.” A slow, mocking smile curved his lips.

He remained where he was. Even from here, the heat radiating from him was thick and suffocating. He could feel the ragged pulse of magic in the shard at her throat. He still didn't understand how that played into their destiny.

“Very well,” he said.

“I will grant mercy. But only if you surrender your weapons. All of them.”

He gestured to the discarded short spear, the charred remnants of blades, the vial at her feet.

“Lay down arms. Discard your armour. I will give you one last chance to match my strength. Show me what spite you have left.”

He waved at the blade he left in the ground. It's glowing length embedded into the rock itself.

"If you deny me, strike true," he said. "Otherwise her screams will break your soul before it escapes."

 

[Saeris]

They were all dead because of her. Every life she had sworn to protect lay shattered at her feet. Every scream, every wet splash of blood, every ragged breath taken in terror, it all weighed on her chest, crushing and relentless. And yet he stood there, mocking her, offering some absurd challenge as though she could possibly match the strength of a demon with nothing but her battered body and burning will.

Her teeth ground together. She barely had the strength to stand, sweat and blood slicking her skin, yet her chin lifted defiantly. Slowly, deliberately, she unclipped the torn armour from her shoulders, letting the vest fall to the ground. Her bracers followed, clattering as they hit the floor. The short swords at her hips, the daggers she wore, all of them fell at her feet with a harsh metallic clink.

Lyza’s face twisted in horror, sweat and tears streaking down her pale cheeks. “Saeris… no…”

“Go, Lyza,” Saeris commanded urgently.

She straightened as best she could, her legs weak and the shard at her throat pulsing like a heartbeat gone rogue, though it no longer gifted her with the power she needed. “Have it your way,” she muttered, frowning at Azrakar.

Then, with a roar that ripped from her chest and gutted the pain and grief she carried, she hurled herself forward. Her fists became weapons, a furious blur of punches, every swing a strike born of loss, defiance, and the raw, searing fire of someone who had nothing left to lose.

 

[Azrakar]

"Go, Lyza" he echoed. "If any of your kind are left tell them never to return. The flames fell. It left an odd quiet, broken only by Saeris' footfalls.

Azrakar let her fists fall against him, each strike a reminder of her desperation rather than her strength. He did laugh. Even for him that would have been cruel. When her arm swung again he caught her by the wrist. With a savage twist, he yanked her forward and drove her down onto the stone floor.

The impact would steal the breath from her chest. Dust and ash rose around her, and before she could gather herself his shadow fell across her like a shroud.

“You mistake defiance for power,” he snarled, foot pressing into her shoulder to keep her pinned. His weight bore down upon her. Her let her writhe. His flaming eyes observed her form.

He wanted Lyza to hear her desperate wails as she fled, but he didn't want to rush. He lifted his foot and stepped around Saeris. He would have yanked her to her feet by her hair, but even bloodied and bruised she had some energy left.

Azrakar placed himself between her and the weapons.

"Let me see the last of your defiance!" he growled.

 

[Saeris]

Her knuckles burst in protest, tiny fractures blooming across her fingers with each futile strike. There was no time to feel the pain before Azrakar slammed her into the stone, the air ripped from her lungs. A strangled croak escaped her throat as she clawed at it, desperate to pull breath back into her burning chest.

She coughed, grimacing, tasting blood and ash, and felt his weight pinning her to the ground. Tears streaked her face, but Lyza would hear nothing, no whimpers, no cries of fear, only silence for the girl to carry with her as she hesitated, then turned to flee.

A crooked grin split Saeris’ lips as the sound of Lyza's footsteps disappeared. “If I have no power,” she wheezed, forcing herself onto her knees, then staggering upright, “how is it that I made you let her leave?”

Her chest heaved, every breath a shudder of pain, yet her gaze locked onto him.

“No,” she growled back, spitting on the ground at his feet. “There’s your fucking defiance.”

 

[Azrakar]

He didn't glance down at his feet. He did look down at the necklace. Then he looked to her side. She was bleeding. His claws had torn armour, fabric and flesh. That would need treating.

He wouldn't risk her life. It was precious. This was the ordained moment.

The scion that would unravel the curse. He would have his former strength and return to the surface. Their children would start a crusade across the lands of men.

"Because her life only mattered to you," he said.

The daemon stepped forwards. In ash and flame she would see a shadow of his other form. There for an instant and gone.

"And now..."

“All that defiance...” he murmured, voice a low rumble beneath the storm of their breaths. His hand traced the arc of blood along her jaw. There was no tenderness—only possession. The monster had to duck down just to reach her.

He grabbed her hair, tilting her head to look up at him. She would see the twisted intruige in his eyes.

"You could discard it. Accept your glorious purpose and everything I can offer. Or...I will be satisfied with your screams."

He hoped that with his head in reach she would lash out one last time before he took all hope away.

 

[Saeris]

Saeris recoiled from his touch, lips curling as though his hand burned more than his flames ever could. A muscle feathered along her jaw as he forced her chin upward, and her chest heaved with every furious, ragged breath. She could taste iron on her tongue, smell the blood and char of her comrades in the air around them.

Yes. She would lash out. She would accept nothing.

Her gaze flicked once to the ruin scattered across the floor. Her friends were broken, butchered, and gone, Lyza long fled into whatever chance at survival Saeris had bought her. That chance would not come for her. She knew it. She felt it. But fuck if she was going to kneel. She could die fighting like the others had.

Her teeth bared, she ripped the shard from her neck with a snarl. The chain snapped, the stone hot in her palm, alive with a pulse she didn’t understand and didn’t care to. Close enough now to smell the heat and ash rolling off him, she slashed upward in one swift, vicious arc, aiming to carve the jagged shard across his face.

She had to reach those weapons.

 

[Azrakar]

Azrakar roared. It was a sound that she would feel in her gut like rolling thunder. He had expected a blow from her fist. There was still some dark magic in that shard. It cut his cheek, sending fire and blood across the floor.

The daemon didn't recoil. As she darted for the weapons he grabbed her arm. She was lifted even as her feet started for the weapons.

If she could scar him forever then he could leave her with pain that she would feel for a lifetime. Azrakar squeezed until she dropped the shard. Then he threw her down.

He followed. One huge hand fell upon her neck. He kept her cheek pressed to cold stone. One eye glared up at him defiantly, framed in light hair.

"You will scream."

---

His form was different the next morning. He strode into the chamber opposite her cell. His horns nearly touched the ceiling, but he appeared as a creature of flesh and blood. His skin was dark, marked by banded tattoos. He bled from the cut across his cheek.

"You are awake," he told her, even as she kept her eyes closed.

Her hands had been bound behind her back. The shard had been given back to her. A goblin had watched her through the night.

 

[Saeris]

Her body ached everywhere. Every shift of her weight sent a flare of pain through her, and her wrists burned from the rough bindings. Her throat was raw from crying, her lips cracked. She hadn’t dared open her eyes since the weight of sleep had dragged her under, sleep that was no rest at all, only jagged fragments and shadows.

The voice rumbled through the chamber.

You are awake.

Her heart gave a violent lurch against her ribs, but her lashes didn’t part. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, look. If she didn’t open her eyes, if she stayed still enough, she could pretend the words hadn’t been meant for her at all.

Her chest rose and fell too quickly, each breath shuddering through the ache of her ribs. The ropes bit at her wrists when she instinctively tried to draw her arms closer to herself.

She pressed her cheek harder against the stone floor. Cold. Grounding. But it wasn’t enough to smother the heat of memory that clawed through her mind.

Blood throbbed at her split lip as her teeth closed down on it, holding back the sound that wanted to escape. She would not give him that. Not a whimper. Not a word.