30: CALITHEA WELCOMES A RULER

Darkness pressed in from all sides, thick and suffocating, as Lysandra's limp body was carried through the narrow corridors of the enemy stronghold. 

The stone walls reeked of dampness and blood, the air heavy with the scent of death. 

The three soldiers holding her barely spoke, only exchanging short nods before they unceremoniously dumped her onto the cold floor of a dimly lit chamber.

The dragged her to the end of the wall and bounded her left hand by the chains attached to the wall.

They sat around her, silent sentinels awaiting their next command, Hours passed and Lysandra was still passed out, after a little while, she begins to regain consciousness and her eyes slowly start to open.

The slow, throbbing pain in her skull was the first thing she registered. 

Then the raw sting of bruises across her ribs, her arms, her legs. 

The iron cuffs around her wrists dug into her skin, biting into flesh. 

She groaned, shifting slightly, her head lolling to the side as the world came back into focus in jagged, broken pieces.

Blood. Smoke. Screams.

Erythian.

Her breath caught in her throat. "No, no, no" her mind rejected the memories crashing over her. 

But they came anyway, unrelenting. 

She thought about Erythian, she thought about His body falling, the gleam of steel slick with blood, his breath shuddering as life drained from his eyes.

A sob tore from her lips.

"Erythian..." Her voice cracked, barely a whisper, but the agony in it could have shattered stone.

Tears streamed down her face, cutting through the soot and dried blood smeared across her skin. 

Her chest heaved violently as grief ripped through her, a wound deeper than any blade. 

She rocked forward, her shackled hands trembling as she clenched them into fists, her nails biting into her palms.

The soldiers exchanged glances, unease flickering in their expressions, but none of them moved.

Her cry escalated into a guttural scream. "WHY? WHY DID THIS HAPPEN?"

One of the guards shifted uncomfortably. "Shut her up," another muttered.

A heavy boot struck her ribs. The pain jolted through her, but she barely reacted.

They could beat her all they wanted. 

Nothing could compare to the torment clawing at her insides.

A little while after this interaction, the door swung open, slamming against the stone.

A figure was thrown inside.

Lysandra's breath hitched as a body crumpled to the floor, a white gown drenched in blood. 

The sight of the deep wound seeping blood sent her mind spiraling. 

No-no, no, no-this wasn't happening.

Her lips parted, a strangled gasp escaping.

"Mirenna."

The court maid barely stirred. Her face was pale, her breaths ragged, her body trembling from the pain.

Lysandra lurched forward, her chains rattling violently.

She stretched as far as she could, her fingers just inches from Mirenna's frail form.

"Please," she choked out, her voice desperate. "Let me heal her." She cried violently

The soldiers snickered.

"Begging, Your Majesty?" One of them crouched beside her, smirking. "Not so high and mighty now, are you?"

"I'm begging you," Lysandra whispered, her pride shattering into dust. "Please."

Laughter filled the room, cruel and mocking.

She didn't care. She kept stretching, kept fighting against the chains, her body shaking with the effort.

She cried as she stretched, she was ready and willing to do anything to keep Mirenna alive just to ensure that what happened to Erythian didn't happen to her, she wanted to at least save one person that she loved because she believed that all of this was her fault, but she couldn't reach Mirenna, Zara was bound by chains at the end of one wall and Mirenna was just too far away, she screamed and begged and shouted at the soldiers to please let her heal Mirenna, she was desperate, once a queen but now she groveled at the feet of mere men, The queen begged but the soldiers kicked her hand off and laughed out of the room.

Zara was desperate and she had never been known as a quitter so she still did everything she could, she took off her armor so that it wouldn't weigh her down and now she was wearing only a white tunic, she stretched one part of herself while the other part hung from the chain attached to the wall, she managed to reach mirenna's hands, she closed her eyes and was determined to use all that was left to heal Mirenna but alas, the queen was just too weak, she had been beaten to a pulp and her body was suffering from so much damage, what she had in that moment could have healed a sprained ankle or a tiny zit but it wasn't powerful enough to heal a deep stab wound on the chest of an already dying girl, Zara knew this reality but she still kept trying, stretching and extending herself, she couldn't give up at all, she kept trying until the final moment when Mirenna's lips moved, a faint smile ghosting over them.

"It's... okay..."

"No." Lysandra's voice broke as she tried further. "No, stay with me. Please. Just hold on."

Mirenna exhaled softly.

And then-nothing.

Her body stilled.

Lysandra froze.

Something inside her shattered. 

Zara was enraged!

She was angry at whoever had done this, she scratched her brain to figure out who did this but to no avail, no one came to mind, one thing was for sure, Zara felt nothing but hate for this person.

The queen was broken, the kind of brokenness that could never be mended, she knew she had lost the fight.

A scream built in her chest, one of fury, of anguish, of loss so profound it burned through her veins like fire.

The soldiers who were on the outside were heard, still laughing.

She had lost everything.

Erythian. Mirenna.

Her kingdom.

Her people.

And now, she had nothing left to lose.

The door creaked open again.

Boots slowly clicked against the stone floor.

A cloaked figure entered, the flickering torchlight barely illuminating his face. He glanced down at Mirenna's corpse and gave it a sharp, careless kick.

Rage flared white-hot inside Lysandra.

She lunged, but the chains yanked her back, slamming her against the wall.

The man chuckled. "Fiery, even now. I must say, I expected a broken woman. But this-this is far more entertaining."

His voice dripped with mockery.

She clenched her teeth. "Who are you?"

The figure crouched before her, tilting his head. "Oh, my dear queen. You'll find out soon enough and surely you will be impressed once you do"

She spat at his feet.

A slap struck her so hard her head snapped to the side, the sharp sting blooming across her cheek.

"You may have been queen," he sneered, grabbing her jaw and forcing her to look at him, "but not anymore. I run this now."

His grip was like iron, his fingers digging into her bruised skin.

Then he shoved her away, sending her sprawling onto the cold floor. 

A heavy boot crashed into her stomach.

Pain exploded through her ribs as she gasped, coughing up blood.

The man laughed with a sound that was dark and twisted.

She had heard that laugh before.

It slithered down her spine, familiar in a way that made her stomach turn.

No.

No, it couldn't be.

He leaned down, his lips near her ear. "Get some rest, my queen. Tomorrow is a big day. You're going to be a bride, and Calithea will welcome a new king."

The mocking tone, The arrogance, The way he had orchestrated everything like a master puppeteer.

A shiver ran through her and the realization hit her like a blade to the heart.

Her hands curled into fists, then the smallest, most chilling smile tugged at her lips.

She knew whose head would roll.

She knew whose blood would paint the floors.

She whispered his name with her voice low and venomous, laced with the promise of vengeance.

"Alaric."