When Darkness And Fire Collide

Escaping, But Not Unscathed

Aelin POV

"Celaena, when you're good and ready to tell me the truth, you'll do it. And no matter what it is, when that day comes, I'll be honored that you trust me enough to do so."

"My name is Sam Cortland, and I will not be afraid."

"Please, you and I are nothing but wild beasts wearing human skins"

"I knew what you were working towards... A place where people don't have to hide."

She was lost in the dreams of her past. It had been hours since the healers had sent the dreadful mist into her personal coffin, and Aelin must have been deep in her subconscious for the memories that were dragged up to resurface.

These nights she was particularly happy to have even the slightest relief these memories provided, but that last promise snagged her eye. She had a solid plan in her mind, all she had to do was make it effective and she knew it was now or forever be tortured until death. 

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She was starting to give up, or that's what everyone surrounding her thought. As she slowly started flagging earlier and earlier into playtime with Cairn her captors gradually began loosening her chains. It took about two weeks for them to finally give up the coffin and give her a cot to lie on. She laughed as she took in her body.

One day, on her way back from her exciting adventures of torcher, she decided to finally engage her escorts. In conversation, of course. It was about a 5 minute walk as she had to keep up her fragile mask, which gave her plenty of time to talk and talk and talk. 

Finally, one of the guards gave up and approached her. The others fell into formation around her, filling the empty space of the pissed off guard. The only problem was, he got a little too close for darling Aelin's personal liking. So like any normal person would do, she kneed him stomach while swiping her hand down his side. 

While he managed to avoid her knee he wasn't swift enough to avoid the painfully broken nail aimed carefully for his hidden switchblade. 

As she was tackled to the ground she gave a low, rumbling chuckle that sent chills down the spines of whoever it was aimed at, and sometimes just the unlucky souls to be in the same vicinity as her. 

Toned, muscled hands grasped under her arms and hauled her up, but she would never give them the pleasure of knowing just how much that one motion pained the girl. 

Eventually, they arrived back in the room full of darkness and misery, and Aelin Galathynius fell asleep. 

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Waking up in the pitch black cell was never a nice sight. It could take hours to reorient herself and convince her mind she was not back in Endovier, down in the mines. 

This morning, however, was different. As she opened her eyes and let herself adjust to the dark she gave a lighthearted chuckle, filled with every emotion bundled up into one. It seems, the healers were not as thorough as they were made out to be. 

For as she reached inside her and pulled the guard's knife out without so much as flinching, she knew she'd won. 

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The first stroke of the blade on her body was like greeting and old friend. It's calming feeling of the grip in her no longer callused hand. As she dipped her fingers into the deep gash just below her wrist, she began her artwork.

Not like the art of loving someone, unlike the work Cairn called his art, and different from her meticulous plans. This art was a symbol. Of peace, power, freedom, and escape. 

As soon as she began chanting once the marks were ready the first sign of being heard appeared. She was halfway through the mantra when the cell door cracked open and burning white light poured through. That did not stop her, the fae simply grabbed her knife and started what may be her final dance with death. 

After such malnourishment and mistreated it would be a lie to say the female was not out of shape, so when the male came rushing in her head spun just a tad too much and she was forced back onto the sad excuse for a bed. 

That only enflamed the fire burning within her eyes, and the fury of the monster prowling beneath her skin.