Two days passed by slower than a snail through mud, made worse by the lingering pain in my throat, which in turn made eating excruciatingly painful. It’s the longest wait of my entire life, a considerable feat when you factor in that two years of my life have been spent waiting for my release. It was a day that I didn’t really think would ever happen.

And now that it’s here, I wish I had been more specific with my repeated pleas to the gods.

Because leaving the clutches of one overlord only to be tossed into the throws of an eviler, objectively worse tyrant is not what I had imagined.

High King Osric is the character in bedtime stories parents tell their children to keep them in line. “Eat your peas, kids, or King Osric will snatch you in your sleep and feed you to his hounds!”

Harsh, I know, but it worked.

My parents used to tell Elyna and me those same stories when we were young. Stories of how he came to power by enslaving half of Rokos and unleashing his beasts on the other half. When the rulers before him, the beloved King Emil and Queen Annora, relinquished the throne to him, he thanked them by sending them to the gallows and leaving their corpses to the crows.  

I used to pepper my father with questions, partly because I wanted to push my own bedtime back without him realizing, but also because I couldn’t fathom why the gods let a man so evil continue his reign of terror without stepping in.

“But why, papa? Why does Elo allow him to do this?” In my 10-year-old head, Elo, the God of Mercy, was severely falling behind on his godly duties.

My father adjusts the thin glasses perched atop the tip of his nose before pulling me closer to his side. Elyna is cuddled into the covers in her twin-sized bed beside mine, having fallen asleep at the beginning of the story. 

“Well, you see, little spark, Osric was, and still is a very smart man,” he strokes a hand down his beard. It’s streaked with grey, a recent development this year. “Before he began his conquest, Osric invited all the gods to an extravagant party. He held it in a giant cave that’s mouth opened in front of the Oaktham Sea. When the gods arrived, they partied lavishly all day and all night long, drinking the expensive wine that Osric had brought with him as a gift. But, the gods soon realized that the wine was spelled, and they fell into a deep sleep that only Osric himself can remove.”

“So that’s how he avoided the wrath of the gods? By using a cheap party trick?”

Papa laughs and hugs me closer. “Yes, little spark. The gods fell for his cheap party trick, as you put it, and have been under the spell for hundreds of years. It’s too bad they didn’t have someone as bright as you in their company to realize it was a trap.”

“Is he coming for Aeris next?”

Information about Rokos and Osric’s reign of terror always came secondhand through the village grapevine. It was hard to discern true news from market gossip, so we lived in the dark about most of it. But when citizens from Rokos began fleeing to Aeris, seeking asylum, we knew that things couldn’t be all that great on the northern continent.

“It’s hard to say,” says papa. It was unlike him to be unsure of things, and it sends a tendril of fear curling through my body. “Some say he’s content with Rokos. In my mind, though, it’s difficult to believe that a man as fierce as Orsic would go so far as to put the gods to sleep to only take over one continent.”

I huff a breath of air in frustration. “Well, how come nobody has woken the gods up yet? We need their help to stop Osric before he can take over Aeris!”

“That’s the thing,” papa says, a quizzical look in his blue eyes. “Nobody knows where this cave is. Legend says Osric spelled it so no one but he could find its true location. Believe me, people have tried searching for it and have had no luck in finding the gods to free them from the spell.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“Because I’ve looked for it myself.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “You have? And you never found it? Not even a clue?”

“Not even a clue, little spark. It is truly lost to the world.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t look hard enough. When did you even have time to look for it? I would have noticed if you’d gone somewhere for a long time.”

Papa’s eyes crinkle in amusement as he holds back another laugh. “Believe it or not, but I did use to have a life before you and your sister came along. One full of long journeys to find lost treasures so grand even someone as smart as you couldn’t fathom.”

I roll my eyes at him. From the hallway, I hear mama’s soft footsteps come closer until she’s poking her brunette head through the doorway. 

“Come, Piers. It’s past bedtime for Aruna. Besides, I think she’s had quite enough of the tall tales for one night.”

“Very well,” says papa. “Before I go, let’s see a spark.”

Unrolling myself from his side, I sit up against the headboard and stick my hand out in front of me. Scrunching my nose, I concentrate until a tiny silver spark leaps from my palm toward the ceiling.

“Good. Now, surprise me.”

I think for a beat before clenching my hand into a fist. A second later, I unfurl my fingers, and a small wave of fire crests over my palm before crashing into the tips of my fingers. My father’s chest swells with pride.

“Very good, Aruna. Very impressive. Now sleep well, little spark.” 

I settle into the pillows, eyes feeling heavier than they were a moment ago. “Papa?”

“Yes, Aruna?”

“I’m going to find that cave one day. And then I’ll help the gods free Rokos.”

Papa looks at me with an emotion I can’t read etched onto his face. He reaches out and smooths my hair before tucking the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

“I have no doubt in my mind that you certainly will, little spark.” He places a kiss on my forehead before following mama into the hallway, blowing the lantern out, and closing the door behind him. I can hear my parents pass hushed whispers frantically back and forth before succumbing to sleep.

Now, locked away in my cell, I blink back the tears that gather behind my eyes but let the sting of the memory settle in my gut, allowing the painful emotions to fill the emptiness sitting inside my chest. However much it may hurt, memories like this were the lifeline that kept me from caving into the unyielding darkness.

Memories from before the cage. From the life I loved before I was captured. The life we had before papa died and mama had a psychotic break and left Elyna and me to fend for ourselves.

My ears perk up at the sound of voices nearing the door. A moment later, the door swings open, and two sets of footsteps descend the staircase.

The hair on the back of my neck stands as my mind screams danger danger danger. The moment I’ve been dreading for the last two days has finally come to collect. Even as every cell in my body tells me it’s a bad idea, I find myself peering through the bars to see who it is that will deliver me to my new cage.

Because it’s so poorly lit down here, I can only make out the outline of broad shoulders and an impossibly tall male frame striding next to Njal down the hallway. His boots are coated in a fine layer of dirt, I’m assuming from the long journey from Rokos. His jacket is left unbuttoned at the top, and I catch the glint of a sword reflecting off the muted light. Confidence exudes from his posture, shoulders thrown back and head held high in a way I’m sure is supposed to be intimidating.

Njal and the man stop in front of my cage. I can tell Njall is expecting me to shy away from the man’s stare from the way his own cuts through the darkness, but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.

I hold the stranger’s gaze. It’s too dark to make out the specifics of his features, especially with his back turned away from the light, but I can tell he’s assumably handsome by the cut of his strong jaw and the dark hair that falls atop his head in loose waves. Annoyance flits through me. 

Of fucking course, my new captor is good-looking.

I can’t tell what color his eyes are as they roam up and down my body before taking in the cell and cement walls around us. 

“So,” he says nonchalantly. “This is her?”

It takes a monumental effort to not roll my eyes. Does he see any other women being held against their will in dark, suffocating cages?

Njal breaks his flesh-melting stare to turn to the man. “Yes, captain. This is Aruna Nigh, wielder of the silver fire.”

Go figure. Captain Obvious actually is a captain. I guess that explains the sword.

The captain quirks an eyebrow. Ever so slightly, a movement so quick that if I hadn’t been studying him so closely, I would have missed it; his nostrils flare.

He turns to Njal. “I could have sworn the letter we sent ahead of us detailed to have her ready for travel. Does she appear to be in a condition for a twelve-day journey?”

Two thoughts hit me at once. 

Twelve days?

And —

Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I look down at myself, not caring that it’ll give away my embarrassment. I guess I haven’t truly looked at myself in a while. 

The clothes I’m wearing hang in rags, filthy from the constant wear. My feet are tough and callused, a thick coating of dirt crusting the bottoms. My ribs poke through the skin at my sides, my skin drawn and stark pale.

I drop my arms and take in the tanned skin of both men standing before me.

I’d forgotten what the sun felt like. 

A pang of surprise rings through my body.

“I meant no slight, captain. There just wasn’t time, what with having to ready the grounds for your arrival. Plus, she’s not that bad–“

“That sounds like an excuse. Have you looked at her? She has an inch of shit caked on her arms. And I mean that literally,” the captain says, cutting off Njal. He turns back to me. “No offense.”

My eyes narrow. “None taken.”

He starts to turn back to Njal, but something catches his eye. He points a finger at me.

“What is that?”

Njal’s eyes dart to my throat, to the bruise that I know is in full bloom because I can feel it. “N-nothing, captain. She got a bit unruly, that’s all. I’m sure you understand how that goes.” 

I feel my eyebrows start to rise. Is Njal…nervous?

Something resembling anger passes over the captain’s face. “So you decided to put your hands on her?”

“She is not technically the King’s yet, I don’t see the issue–“

“Like that makes a difference between putting your hands on a woman or not?” 

“Well, captain, I–“

“That was rhetorical. I don’t particularly care for your answer. Unlock the cage. Now.”

Njal fumbles for his keys briefly before finding the correct one and fitting it into the keyhole. The lock springs free, and the cell door swings open. 

My breath catches, and for a moment, all I can do is stare. The hallway yawns in front of me, my view unobstructed by cold metal bars. My heart thumps in my chest, and I find myself hesitating.

Am I ready for this?

The captain takes one step inside the cell, and I tense. He pauses, then slowly stretches a hand out to me.

I look at his hand, waiting for my lead, then to the door beyond him. I meet his eyes and read the message being conveyed to me through them.

This is real, and it’s happening right now.

I decline his hand, not wanting to get grime on his pretty clean hand. 

“I’m okay, thank you,” I say.

He drops his hand and steps out of the way to let me pass. On shaky legs, mostly from energy zapping through my nervous system, I take a few paces forward. I whoosh out a breath, and, before I can change my mind, close the distance to the other side of the cage.

I don’t know why I expected to feel different. Like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Instead, all I feel is unease.

There’s no going back now.

The captain pulls a purse of coins out of his pocket and hands it to Njal. “There’s a little more than what we agreed to. For your troubles, and discretion, of course.”

“Of course, captain. I will not let it pass my lips again.”

The captain looks at him a beat longer before shifting to me. “Ready?” 

I steel my spine and turn toward the door. 

“Ready.” 

He leads the way, with Njal following. I trail a few steps behind, not fully trusting my legs to work on the stairs. But before I know it, I’m standing at the threshold of the kitchen. The light isn’t strong enough to hurt, but I still squint my eyes against it. 

Right as I’m about to cross into the room, the captain blocks my way suddenly and grabs my wrist.

“Shit,” he says, grimacing slightly. “Almost forgot these.”

Before I can comprehend what’s happening, a pair of stone handcuffs slap onto both of my wrists. I frown at the links and glance up at the captain with a mix of shock and despair.

“Trust me,” he says. “You’re going to want them. They’ll help as you adjust.”

My frown deepens. “Adjust to what?”

“You’ve just spent a considerable amount of time living in a prison made completely of calemarine. It’s going to take a while to get used to living with your magic again.”

I’m full on scowling now. I knew there was something wrong with those walls. I look back at the hallway. Sure enough, the stone matches that of my cuffs. I look back to the captain.

“I have many questions for you, but I’ll wait until we begin our journey.”

“And I’ll be happy to answer them for you. Let’s get going, then. We can still ride for a better part of the day.”

He turns and walks to the front door. I’m close on his heels and realize my mistake when he opens the front door and I have to bite back a hiss at the sunlight streaming in. 

The captain strides out through the door and to the waiting caravan of horses and men. My eyes adjusting still to the brightness, I count about thirteen in total.

A cough from behind me stops my feet in place. I turn and see Njal standing on the other side of the kitchen.

“I offer you my good wishes on your journey.”

It would be so easy to rip these cuffs off and smite him where he stands. Too easy to spit fire from my tongue and watch him burn. 

His shoulders tense. I know he sees the look in my eye and realizes the same thing. 

I leave the cuffs on. And without glancing back again, I face the world and step into her embrace again.