When my skin is not my own and the heart is tainted, there is still one thing that will always belong to me. My soul! No more shall it weep in the darkest of nights but it shall become a beacon of light for all those who cannot see. I am a warrior...
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The castle doors loomed large, their oval shape resembling ancient shields forged to withstand both time and trespassers. Glistening gold chains draped over them, not as opulence, but as a gilded cage, a prison for the wealthy and the wayward. Silk designs, impossibly intricate, were woven into the hardwood, their patterns snaking and swirling like living things, entrancing any who dared stare too long. They almost seemed to whisper, pulling the mind deeper into their endless dance. Lalzari stood before them, her soul hollowed out, an abyss where once there was light.
"OMID!" Mareeb's voice tore through the silence as he sprinted toward the exhausted girl. His pacing had worn the room thin, and now, as she appeared, his anxiety blossomed into action.
"The doors... they need to be replaced," Lalzari murmured, her voice barely rising above a whisper. She stood as if hope had collapsed beneath her, eyes fixed on the polished floorboards, fighting back the tide of tears that threatened to spill. Her restless fingers twisted around themselves, silently betraying her frail state. Mareeb saw it all, he didn’t need words to know she was unraveling.
“What happened, Omid?” he asked gently, concern etching his features as he led her to the bathroom, carefully scrubbing Husayrah’s dried blood from her icy, trembling hands. The sight of the blood brought everything back, and the weight of it crashed into Lalzari, pulling a sob from deep within. Tears swelled and spilled over, flowing down her face in thick streams, blurring her vision like the flood of emotions she could no longer contain.
“I... I met someone,” she began, her voice shaking. “She was incredible, but then... then a battle... and I—I killed him... and she died, right there, in my arms.” Each word was a dagger, driving deeper into her already shattered heart. Her body quivered as if under the weight of the memory, too fragile to hold the grief alone. Mareeb stepped closer, offering himself as her anchor, and she leaned into him, her broken frame finding solace in his unwavering presence.
"Omid… the king wants to see you. But take your time," Mareeb said softly, steadying the warrior against the cool porcelain of the sink. “Take a bath, change, and I’ll let him know you’ll come later.” His voice was a steady lifeline in the storm of her thoughts, but Lalzari nodded with a numbness that had settled deep inside her. She knew all too well that weakness, whether physical or mental, was a luxury she could not afford, not with the stakes climbing ever higher.
As Mareeb knelt to undo the ankle chains, his fingers working to free the metal from her raw, inflamed skin, Lalzari winced. The angry marks left behind were a cruel reminder of her burdens, yet her voice broke through, almost a whisper. “Even with this outcome, these chains… they’ve made me stronger.”
Mareeb said nothing, only ran the bath before leaving her to the quiet sanctuary of the water. Alone, as always, Lalzari peeled away her armor and stepped into the warm embrace of the bath. The water cascaded over her skin like gentle rain, washing away the grime of battle. It’s a strange ritual, she thought to herself. Each time I reach a new level, I end up here, exhausted beyond repair. She leaned against the wall, feeling the weight of the water and the weariness settle over her. I’m so tired… but I can’t afford to be.
