Page 62 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
His voice rang in my ears, filled with desperation. I couldn’t see him, but the metallic clinking of something heavy resonated, and athudechoed off the stone walls and fell quiet.
A cruel smile crept on King Aymon’s face. He didn’t say another word as he walked behind me and gave me two very quick, very harsh lashings.
The second and third lashes struck lower. My knees buckled, but I stayed standing.
I sucked in air, unable to release it. My body in shock.
Another lash sent pain that bloomed wide and fast, not just on the surface but deep, in the muscle, in my bones. It was not a sharp pain. Itdragged, like something being pulled out of my soul through my spine.
A loud scream escaped my lungs.
By the fifth blow, there was no past, no future, only now—only pain.
I wasn’t going to survive this.
The edges of my vision blurred. My back felt flayed, every nerve ending lit and shrieking. The whip didn’t just hurt; itviolated. My body was no longer mine; it belonged to the pain. It dictated my every breath, every twitch, and every broken sob I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I opened my eyes, focusing on Makar standing a few feet away in front of me, and let him in.“Breathe, Elara. Just breathe. Do not take your eyes off me. I’m going to influence you, okay?”He stated, but still asked.
Another lash.
Warmth slithered down my spine as a scream ripped out of me like a storm, primal and unwilling.
Thunder had roared ominously in the distance, and suddenly, the skies opened up, unleashing a torrential downpour. The rain hammered down on me, each drop felt almost cathartic as it cooled my back. In that moment, it was as though I had somehow tapped into the very forces of nature. The rain mirrored my tears, cascading down my face—tears I swore I wouldn’t shed—and mingled with the raindrops, while the thunder cracked overhead, echoing the anger that churned within me.
I lost count of the lashes.
My skin was ruined now, I knew it. It felt shredded, like raw strips of meat where my back used to be. The air itself became cruel, stinging as it touched the open wounds. The blood that dripped down, warm and wet, soaked the waistband of my trousers.
I was about to pass out from the pain.
“LOOK AT ME!”Makar snapped. I opened my eyes, my body in shock.
“Good. Focus on me,”Makar repeated as Eryn stood next to him, white knuckled on her sword. Her nostrils flared. I could see the tears she was holding back in her eyes.
Fixated solely on him, an unexpected warmth enveloped my body, creeping in like the sun’s gentleembrace on a balmy summer day. It was a soothing sensation that washed over me, yet it brought with it an overwhelming flood of memories. I found myself transported to endless fields where I had once gathered wildflowers with Mother, their vibrant colors danced in the golden light. The sweet, nostalgic scent of her lavender perfume filled my nostrils, and suddenly, tears brimmed in my eyes as I was reminded of Mother’s comforting presence.
Makar’s magic wrapped around me like a soft blanket, easing my turbulent thoughts. Yet, the memories of Mother, with all their bittersweet clarity, ignited a deep yearning within me—not just to remember, but to confront the grief I had wallowed in.
A part of me felt masochistic as I forcefully pushed Makar out of my consciousness, erecting my mental shield once more. I knew that more lashes were imminent, and now I craved that pain, that raw sensation, as it was tied to my guilt—the guilt of killing Mother. This was punishment for that, and I would take one hundred more.
Makar’s face dropped as I kicked him out of my head. I refused to look at him and Eryn, so I shut my eyes.
As the whip sliced through the air, its crack resounded like thunder, striking my skin with brutal precision. A shockwave of agony coursed through my body, igniting every nerve like wildfire.
Breathing became a struggle as waves of pain crashed over, constricting my chest and tightening my throat. The pain seared through my existence, but I kept my magic at bay.
I deserved this.
“You are more than this moment. Together, we will overcome.”That deep voice rumbled again in my mind somehow, even with my shields up. Yara told me those same words, ‘you are more than this moment.’
I wasn’t sure how the thing got past my shield— perhaps it wasKryndor, God of War.
It growled again. “Stand tall. We do not give up.”
With shaky hands, I pulled myself up the rough wooden beam, feeling the splinters dig into my skin. I refused to let pain deter me; I would not be made a fool by the King any longer.
As I straightened, I clung to the beam like a lifeline. Rain and blood soaked my body. I surveyed the crowd—faces that were now dulled by pity. Some turned away, while others watched with concern, their sympathy igniting a defiance within me. Despite their pity, I would show my strength.
