The Queen's Prophecy || ON HOLD ||

E i g h t | Gilded Cage

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I DREAM OF A GIRL IN A GILDED CAGE, her limbs bound by magical chains, her thoughts filled with a semblance of freedom when she could never really escape.

Escape was like a mirage in a deserted land; so tempting, so desired by the heart to be true yet it was just a fiction of imagination created in desperacy.

That desperacy is what led the girl to drag herself through the stone floor of the cathedral's bedchamber, the clinking of the chains around her ankles creating a screeching noise with every step.

Her vision was as hazy as a newborn babe, nothing but blur of too bright colors of the too bright room she was jailed in.

She lifted her arm to shield her eyes, only for it to fall limply to her side half-way through the action. The world spun around her, her frail, thin body clashing against the steel door with a thud so loud it nearly shattered her bones.

Not bothering to try again to lift any part of her, she clasped her fist tightly around the doorknob. Her breathing was hollow, sweat gleaming above her brow.

She just had to get out get out get out.

It felt like putting her entire life into twisting the knob, but when she did turn and it clicked open, she wanted to laugh. Manically.

She felt like she was going insane. They hadn't locked her. They'd thought she'd never be able to even wake up from unconsciousness with how much they sedated her.

Fools. Fools. Fools.

She was going to escape. She was going to run faraway and never come back. Never look behind. Do hell with everything and everyone. She was done.

In what felt like centuries' span, a real smile pulled up on her lips as the wind carressed her skin and the corridor of the cathedral greeted her.

She was free. She was finally finally finally free.

Even thinking of it was a doomed omen because the next second, she spotted a woman standing a few feet away.

Her features were nothing but foggy, yet the girl knew from memory the woman was beautiful. As beautiful as the gold from the mines carved into fine jewellery; the colour of her luscious hair resembled the precious metal, matching the intricate embroidery of gold thread woven into her billowy white robes that dragged along the floor.

The girl couldn't see but she knew those burning gold eyes—cold and calculating and menacing—were fixed on her shackled self.

Her footsteps stumbled, her limbs felt weaker then they had before. The girl trembled, feeling her freedom drain down down down the sink.

Through the haze of fear and defeat, she spotted the small figure of a silently sniffling boy standing next to the towering form of the woman. He looked her age, younger even.

One glance at her though, at the chains and menacles bound on her wrists and ankles and the boy looked terrified.

The girl didn't know why she did it, perhaps she'd truly lost it, perhaps insanity had afterall embraced her.

But she couldn't stop the wide smile stretching across her whole face before the world went dark and she collapsed to the floor.

***

THE SUN IS A BLAZING ASSAULT the moment I jolt awake, eyes wide and breathing labored. A trail of sweat eases down my temples, my hair sodden wet as though I'd just taken a bath.