"My friends call me Mia. It flows much lovelier, don't you think?"
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𝑀𝜄𝛼𝜋𝜕𝜄𝛼
➶ ➴↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-
IT WAS COLD.
Bitting, blistering, cold.
If it hadn't been the terribly unfortunate sound of the Chief Overseer's keys clashing against each other as his heavy, over decorated boots scuffled along the dirt floor, the cold would have woken her.
A chill went down her spine as the metal scrapped against each other. With every step the man took, the more she became aware of her surroundings. The once empty cells surrounding her were now filled with slaves, a punishment for rioting against the crown.
Wyrd only knew how much more time had been added onto their sentences. Much less the wipings. It was only a matter of time before they began once more; screams filling the open canyon of the mountain.
Squinting as she opened her eyes, she was blinded by the morning sun.
Not thinking much of the Chief Overseer's visit, she sunk deeper against the wall she'd been chained to. She hoped for more rest before the whippings began again.
They'd beaten her senseless that night, even if the Chief Overseer had been thrilled with her work.
Perhaps he was here for another round of lashing.
She couldn't guarantee she'd live past the day.
Closing her eyes, she imagined the sunlight carrying her far from the cold mines of the forgotten.
She listened intently as the pair of footsteps grew closer. Her interest was sparked when hearing only one other set of footsteps.
Normally she counted four; two guards, an Overseer, and a slave being dragged to and from the area. They hardly did rounds, but when they had, they were usually always in groups consisting of three or four.
Never two.
Ever since the twins had been sentenced into the mines, ever since Celaena had killed one of the overseers, the king had deemed it unsafe for only two guards.
