Rotten. Black. Necrosis. Disease. Pain.
Red eyes appeared out of the darkness.
And Aydra stood to her feet.
This was how she knew she was in the Berdijay’s grasp.
Her ankles felt not of weak and broken, but of strength, as though she could run for miles and miles without tiring. She inhaled deeply, feeling the fog enter her airways and dive into her organs, filling her with ice and fire all at once.
It’s not real, she told herself.
The ground vibrated, his deliberate steps coming towards her, seconds between each. She stood her ground as it began to speak again.
Rupture and rapture
The little red raven sleeps
Tell me dear of your greatest griefs
—She was in the Throne Room.
Her gaze narrowed around her at the throng of people scattered around the room. A hand covered hers on her side, and she looked up to see it was Rhaif’s hand. Her immediate reaction was to flinch away from his grasp, but he clenched his fist around hers.
Men spoke around her. She opened her mouth to retaliate, but it wouldn’t move. Her free hand reached to her lips.
Her sewn together lips.
The rate at which her heart beat made her shake. She ripped at the seams, pushing the pain of it tearing her flesh to the back of her mind. But each time she cut the seam, it would grow back.
Her brother stood over her, his hands pushed behind his back. His head tilted mockingly at her, and a quirk of a smile rose on his lips.
“Silence,” he mused.
The blood in her boiled. She lunged out of the chair.
Rhaif’s image disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
The screech of her raven sounded overhead. Belwark hands grabbed her body. She was shoved backwards.
Her body fell into a free fall of black.
—A foot kicked her in the back.
She fell face first into the wet dirt, realizing she was once more in the forest and not in his shadow dimension.
Her hands pushed to the ground, and she rose her chest to see into the abyss in front of her. The smell of decaying flesh filled her nostrils. She flinched at the reek of it, her stomach turning over. The ground vibrated again.
And when she blinked, her eyes opened to the red pupils of the Berdijay kneeling before her.
Antlers rose out of his head, its body reflecting in the shadows and golden fire pulsing through the make of its body as though its nerves were on the surface of its body and the golden glow was its energy surge. Its great flattened head, no more than black swamp-like hair covering everything about it except its eyes, tilted at her.
Rupture and rapture
Your raven calls
Tell me queen
How will you fall?
It knew who she was.
—Its enormous hand wrapped around her body. She let him take her off the ground, lifting her foot after foot as it stood. She pushed herself up in its palm and grasped onto his fingers. A deep purr echoed from its insides. She didn’t blink as she pushed her core outwards into his. She felt his core shake, as though he were allowing her to fill him.
Speak, Queen Ravenspeak.
Fear evacuated her body. She suddenly felt empowered in its grasp.
Show me the secrets my insides hide.
Her chest launched forward. Breath departed her lungs.
She was sitting in the Throne Room again.
Nyssa and Dorian were on their knees at her feet, hands behind their backs, gags over their mouths.
Aydra tried to speak. She launched herself out of her chair. But the chains wrapped around her body cut against her torso. She looked down and realized her feet were locked to the floor. She tried to move, to speak, but the strings were sewn through her lips again.
And then Rhaif appeared behind her youngers, twirling his sword in his hand.
“You are the reason for this,” he hissed, pointing his sword at her. “Because of your betrayal, they will die before you. You did this to them.”
Aydra struggled against the chains, pleading and shaking her head. Her youngers. On their knees. Her chained to silence on her own throne.
Rhaif raised his sword over Nyssa’s head.
ENOUGH, she shouted into the darkness.
The scene dissipated around her. Her chest was heaving as she felt the wet swamp hair of the Berdijay beneath her once more.
Rupture and rapture—
Stop speaking to me in code, she ordered it. Is that all you have? My brother and sister dying before me? They told me you were swamp and ash. Necrosis and angst.
She stood to her feet and met its raging red eyes, feeling her heartbeat throb in the ringing silence of the forest around them.
Strike fear into my core, Berdijay.
His palm disappeared beneath her. She sank into the depths of its shadows, cold mist swarming around her body.
She was standing in the Council Chamber, wearing the blue frilly dress her brother liked to force upon her. A plastered smile she could not erase was stamped upon her lips. The council members laughed around her.
She was standing at her locked window. The raven tapped on it desperately. She felt no connection to it, only an emptiness where her creature had once filled her. Her door opened, and Willow came into the room, carrying a great white dress.
She was standing in the Throne Room. Ash stood by her side. The Temple maiden stood before them. A white veil shrouded over her head. She was turned towards Ash, the same plastered smile forced upon her lips.
“You’ll no longer need to worry for your kingdom,” he told her. “You can live out your days in peace with me. No more of the travels to take care of criminals or ships coming on our shores. No more worrying about the people beneath you.” Ash took her hands. She looked down and realized her fingers were burned, wrinkled, and damaged.
Her brother was staring at her from behind Ash, his eyes flickering fire.
Aydra ripped her hands from Ash’s grasp. She reached for the veil on her head and threw it off her.
