A Court of Desires and Darkness

Chapter 5

For ten winters, ten excruciatingly long years, I remained strong. The King of Hybern dragged me out of the musty cell, forcing my magic to destroy or kill when he needed me to set an example for his subjects, when an enemy crossed into his territory, or just because. He enjoyed taunting me, reminding me that he won. I fought the guards when they came into the cell to pull me away. I fought the King when he placed that damned jewel on the cuff. I fought my own magic as it was ripped out of me. 

During the decade, I hardly ate, bathed, or even moved around, forced to live in that tiny cell. My health was dangerously low. The original cuff they put on my wrist had to be replaced because it could just slide off, not that I would have enough strength to carry out any sort of escape. No, no plans of escape. Only the memorizing of all the guards' faces and doorways within this awful stone castle.

My shadows still lingered about, whispering their muffled sounds. They became visible again for me after that first day. Still, I could not feel them--not unless they were being summoned for the King.. I could barely even understand them anymore. When they appeared for the King, they didn't even feel like mine any longer. They felt cold, dangerous. 

Laying still on the cot, I hear them whisper louder than usual. It pulls me from a light and restless sleep. My concept of time is scrambled, being in a room far underground with no access to the sun, save for the handful of times a year when he uses me. I've begun to wonder if giving in to the black gem would subside some of the pain. 

I startle to the present when I can sense... something. A pair of eyes trying to see me from the shadows. My darkness mingles with that of another, this I can hear clearly. Someone who does not belong in this place, this country. I cannot see them, nor do I think they can see me, the veil of a magical barrier preventing it. 

I try to sit up, my movements shaky, and lean against the wall, heaving for breath. Repositioning myself like this is all it takes to tire me out. "P-please," I rasp, barely any sound coming from my cracked lips. The stranger's shadows swirl around mine, trying to move through the barrier. How they got here, I am unsure. The King's ruthless exploits have most likely reached the ears of other countries by now. 

I close my eyes, unable to keep them open, still hoping that my shadows can do the talking for me. I have never met another Shadowsinger. Who are you, I hear them whisper, a question from the stranger.

Before I can respond, the stranger and their shadows disappear, leaving me more alone than ever before. The door to the room opens as two guards stroll in. They open the cell door and pull me upright. I offer no resistance as the drag me out of the room, having to hold most of my weight. The King does not bother to fetch me anymore. With my strength and magic gone, I am no longer a threat. 

I cringe as I am brought in front of a crowd once again. The soldiers hold me back as the King speaks with that red-headed commander, her black eyes unwavering as he glares down at her. I don't listen to what they are conversing about. Instead, I fix my attention on the crowd, the amount of soldiers, and the possible exits. Just like I have done every time they take me out. Without my magic and strength, I can only wait. 

"Go then. Go to Prythian," the King snaps. "Test them." Now I listen. Are they planning to start a war with Prythian? Surely the seven High Lords could win against Hybern. The female nods sharply before turning on a dial and walking away from him, a wicked grin on her face. 

The King watches her leave, the room quiet. He then turns to the crowd and gestures for me and a male beside me to come forward. The King explains that the male, now standing in front of him, tried to sell information out to one of Prythian's High Lords. The fae male just stands firm, his glare fixed upon the King of Hybern. 

As all the times before, that black gem is placed into the open slot on the cuff, the King following suit with his own. My magic responds to him, eager to be used. This time, I don't fight as hard as before, opening myself up to the pull of the syphon. The King looks at me, clearly sensing my change of behavior, before unleashing my magic on the fae male in front of us. 

There is pain, excruciating pain. Just slightly more tolerable than what I have endured during the past decade.

When my shadows return to me, I feel the soul of the dead fae return with them. It is like they devour it, hungry from lack of use. Some other emotion comes too... satisfaction? 

The King returns to the cell with me, the guards holding me upright in front of it before dropping me back onto the dirty cot. 

"I felt you release some of your hold onto fighting," he purrs. "Was it easier that way?" I hold his gaze, though my eyelids wish to close. He laughs coldly, holding out a hand, "Stop fighting, Canna. Join me."

I spit at him, though it is not much and does not reach that far. His expression returns to anger as he looks to the two guards and steps back. They toss me into the cell, not bothering to get me to the cot like usual. I try to brace myself, but my weak limbs twist in the wrong ways. I hear a popping sound from my shoulder as I collapse to the cold, dirty floor. The guards kick me in the stomach twice each before all three leave me alone. 

For four more years, I have dwindled to nothing alone. Silence has been my only companion. I never felt the presence of that other Shadowsinger again. 

Hope is running dangerously low.