Battle Scars

Awake

"You are coming with me, darlin'," someone had chuckled before the world had gone dark. Eve blinked, the previous fight coming back in flashes. Nesta. Gwyn. Emerie. Gasping, she started to get up only to be pulled back with a rattling sound of chains. Faebane. Her hands were tied behind her back. Her gown was bloodied and torn as if the person who had taken her had not given much care to her state.

She blinked again, taking her surroundings in this time. The floor was grey and damp as if it had been washed recently. Blood decorated the cemented floor in spots. On her right there were small circles made to let light in. And judging by the amount coming in, it was morning or afternoon. In front were bars and behind that nothing. Was she the only one here? It was far too silent. She couldn't hear another soul. Somewhere in the lower levels with good amount of security outside. And left alone to go mad, she concluded. Was she taken by Illyrians? No, it was warm here. Who then? Who had a vendetta against her?

Hissing, she rubbed her hair against the wall, ignoring how filthy the place was. A thud sounded and she craned her neck behind. A hairpin lay there- she exhaled, picking it up. A footstep sounded. Slow and steady with a cane for support. Crippled or Aged? She got her answer as the figure stood in front of the cell and removed her cloak. Briallyn.

Eve wanted to rage, to hiss, to hit her with a stone- preferable at her nape of the neck. But, she stayed silent, content as she supported herself against the wall, handcuffed and bruised. "No insults this time?" She might have aged but her voice was sickly sweet still. "Very well then, I will make conversation first."

She opened the cell door. Eve angled the hairpin in her hand as it scraped lightly against the cuffs. The voice was low enough that even her own Fae ears had to listen purposefully and intently to hear it. Years ago, inspired by the six thieves of the Dregs of Leigh Bardugo' books, she had tried and learnt some of the tricks. Lock picking. Walking silently. Archery. Kickboxing. She was a bit rusted now but nevertheless, she could still try.

"It was hard to get you here, but it was all managed- took a few months but here we finally are. Aren't you curious, little thief, about why is it I have bought you here?"

"You mean its not because you are a petty old woman hell bent on revenge?"

Briallyn hissed, "you stole my youth from me. You and that viper. You burnt half my face and half my army." Eve smirked, recalling those few moments on the battlefield year ago.

The click sounded. The handcuffs were off.

"What do you want, Briallyn?"

"My immortality. My youth. My revenge." It's always three things, Eve noted. She could feel some of her power returning.

"Where have you taken me?"

The crone chuckled. "I made a deal you see, with a death-lord." Eve's face paled- if that was true, she had much bigger problems to worry about. There was little chance of her getting out of here alive too. "He offered me a ... bargain of sorts. I get what I want and in return, he gets you." Briallyn frowned, as if the prospect of not killing her was indeed a cruel one. "Of course, that means I will have to keep you alive."

"Where. Am. I."

Briallyn laughed, "oh, haven't you figured it out? You are on my territory, of course."

*********************

That had been an hour ago. No one had come to torture her yet. She took that as a lucky sigh and since then, had tried breaking the cell with the same hairpin but the mechanism was different and she was no professional. "Work, you useless piece of trash, work," she grunted toward the hairpin or her own talents- she did not know. It was useless. She had even tried melting it but the material seemed flame-resistant. An alloy then? She had no clue.