The Bane of Light

Sacrifices

⚭

When I woke up, I was alone, in my cell once more. This time, there was no Paris, there were no shadows, and there were no chains. I was utterly alone.

It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. My entire body was stiff, flattened out into a board on the floor. I groaned as I tried to sit up, moving only millimeters at a time. It took several minutes of concentrated effort to sit up, as I attempted not to jerk my body too hard.

The cell was pitch black as always, and I could not tell how much time had passed. It could be dawn already. They could be coming to collect me this very moment. My panic spiked as I scrambled to sit up.

I stumbled onto my knees in the darkness, as my hands skimmed the dirty floors, cringing at the grimey feel of them. My blood was crusted to the stone, gathering under my remaining nails, which relieved me to know I was in my old cell. I did not stop searching blindly till my hands caught on something sharp on the floor. A shard. A bone shard. A demon tooth.

My hands shook as I closed my fingers around it and brought to my chest, exhaling in relief. I was in the same cell as before, which meant I still had my secret weapon. The thought brought me some consolation. Everything was not yet lost. I still had a chance at escape, If I acted now. I had no time for delay. I needed to get this ring off.

My hands felt numb, as I brought one shaking hand to the other. I felt the cool feel of the obsidian band around my pointer finger. It was slick, despite the gallons of blood that had poured over it in the past twenty-four hours. None of it stuck, washing straight over it.

The ring was cool to the touch as I pushed it up my finger, past the first joint, and stopping it just over the second joint. It would not go further. It was just the tip of the finger. Most of the finger would remain. It was just a small fragment that I would loose. I tried to come to terms with it as best as I could, though none of my reassuring words could stop the racing beat of my heart or the sweat breaking out on my skin.

Dropping my shaking hand, I brought the sharp edge of the tooth to my waist. I tested it on the fabric of my shirt, attempting to determine how sharp it was. It cut through the camisole like butter. I pulled the material taut as I brushed the sharp end of the tooth over the fabric, watching as the seams split with each slash. I cut all the way around my waist, slicing the bottom of the shirt off. A pile of previously-white cloth remained unraveled in my waist. I tied a knot into it before hand, while I had the use of both my hands. I would soon be immobile in both.

Sucking a deep breath, I tested the tooth on my skin, seeing how well it cut through flesh. I tested it on a rougher patch of skin- my knee. The sting of pain that accompanied the slice was hardly tangible compared to the unbearable amounts of pain I had endured in the last few days. I was almost thankful for the fresh pain, rousing me out of my fuddled state, making me alert once more. Before the tooth could go deeper than tissue and sink into muscle, like I knew it could—like I hoped it would— I pulled it out of the skin.

I simply sat for a long moment, body shaking, eyes closed against the tears pushing against my lids, attempting to breathe deeply. I inhaled and exhaled, my shadows no longer able to drain the emotion from me. I would have to do this on my own. I would have to gather my wits, calm down, and do this before they dragged me up to burn at the funeral pyre. I would burn alive.

It was one finger tip or my life. One finger or death. The pain I felt now would be nothing compared to the pain I would feel being lapped up by Araw's flame. I would have to feel my shadows die. My children. I would feel them whither away into space, wounded as they already were. I would have to feel solitude again, as fragments of my soul were destroyed with them. I would have to hear their screaming, knowing I failed them.