Page 14 of Chaos Unleashed

“Careful,” he growls.

I tilt my head curiously, “Can you feel my pain?”

He hesitates but nods, “Yes, my magic is still trying to heal you despite the fact it's hitting a brick wall for some reason. Why aren’t you healing yourself? Do you not have the ability?”

I sigh, “I’m in this cell. It's embedded with layers upon layers of spells that suppress and trap my magic. They've also wrapped my magic itself in spells. They don’t want me to die, at least not yet, so they’ve allowed a small amount of my magic through to heal, just enough to keep me alive.”

The muscle in his jaw pops as he clenches his teeth, “You sound far too calm about your impending torture and death.”

I shrug, not that he can see, but then decide to answer honestly; he is my imagination, after all, and if I can’t be honest with myself, then who can I be honest with?

“I am terrified,” I start, “and I’m angry as fuck that this is how it's going to end for me. Just when my life was starting to look better, I’m going to die.”

I watch as his throat bobs as he swallows back emotion; his voice is barely above a whisper as he replies, “You sound certain that you’re going to die.”

This time it's my turn to swallow back the knot of emotions in my chest, as I whisper brokenly, “I am, the odds are impossible.”

I haven’t admitted it to myself yet, but it's true.

He makes me jump as he suddenly powers to his feet, “No, I will not allow it.”

Unfortunately, I can’t reply because I feel my body being pulled back into wakefulness. Sadness consumes me.

“Thank you for being a bright spot in my dark; I will never forget the reprieve that you gave me,” I will my words to reach him, and his head whips in my direction, the widening of his panic-filled eyes the only thing that I see before I’m painfully catapulted into consciousness.

*********

I groan. I can’t help it. I hadn’t realised quite how much pain that H’s magic had taken from me in my dream, but I almost wish it hadn’t because the flood of it now is close to unbearable. I have to take a few deep breaths, allowing the pain to flow through me so I can get used to it again, my tolerance heightening. I understand that my brain lowered my pain levels in my dream in order to help me, but the pain waking up almost wasn’t worth it.

H’s concerned face flashes through my mind's eye; I take it back, it was worth having that dream to see H, and I hope that my subconscious decides to allow me to dream of him again; he offered a level of relief that I didn’t think was possible in this situation.

I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep or even whether it's night or day as there are no windows in here, but there’s not a prince or Hellier standing outside of my cell, so I can’t have been asleep for that long, I groan as I shift slightly, my hand still cradled to my chest, although it looks like its thankfully stopped bleeding. I’m hoping that the small amount of my magic that can get through the binding spells is enough to ensure that I don’t get any sort of infection from the multitude of wounds that I am now covered in.

A sudden buzz of magic has me tensing, and I force myself to stand, preparing for another round of torture and impossible questions to answer. Not that I’d answer them anyway, I know firsthand how evil these fucks are, and I would die before I gave them the information that they wanted. My thoughts remind me of what I admitted to H, but I quickly shy away from the reminder. I know how this is going to turn out, but I’m not as comfortable admitting it during my awake moments.

My eyes scan the area outside of the bars of my cell as I force myself to stand in the middle of the room and away from the safety of my corner. I frown when I can still feel the buzz of magic but can’t see anything; it makes me feel a hell of a lot more nervous than if I could just see what was about to attack me. I really wish I had a couple of my weapons, or Poca or Meri, or the guys, or hell, my fucking magic.

I learned a long time ago that there was no point in wishing for shit because it never came true.

There’s another surge of magic, and I reflexively drop down into a defensive crouch, even though I know in the long run it won’t do fuck all to help me since the princes are all too cowardly to come in here and give me a fighting chance.

“Xerxes?” I whisper, as the familiar shape of him appears in the room.

“Farren?” he replies, “Goodness me, look at you.”

I decide to ignore that because I know what I most likely look like, and I don’t wish to dwell on it since it’s only going to get worse, “What are you doing here?”

“I think I was sent here,” he replies, not sounding too sure, and then adds, “This happens sometimes; I get sent where I’m needed.”

“Who do you get sent by?” I ask curiously, keeping my voice quiet as I sit back down.

Now that I know that it is friend and not foe, I can allow myself to relax a bit, as I need to try and gain as much strength back as I can before the next round of torture. I’m actually healing faster than I thought I would, and although my mind tries to tell me that it’s because of H and his help while I was dreaming, I know that would be impossible. I think it’s far more likely that I’m stronger than I was when I was here the first time.

Xerxes comes closer and settles on the floor in front of me; I have to admit that it's nice to have a friendly face or er book to talk to.

“One of the gods, although I never really know which one has sent me and I don’t think they all have the ability to utilise me. I must also have some kind of say in it because I wouldn’t want to be out of your care. So if they tried to send me to someone else, I wouldn't appreciate it in the slightest." He explains.

“Wow, I don’t really know what to say to that. I mean, that means that one of the gods has sent you to me, which means they know who I am, and that’s kind of terrifying. I’m going to breeze past that and ask something instead.”

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