Freya’s chest tightened as the sea swallowed her thoughts whole, the waves crashing around her with deafening force. She had lost all sense of time, drifting between memories and the relentless cold of the water that tugged at her limbs like a cruel reminder of her fate. Her thoughts were a chaotic swirl—too many to grasp, too tangled to unravel.
She thought of the scars that marked her childhood, the accidents that had defined her. The fire that had nearly consumed her sister’s room. The searing pain of her father’s icy love, always hovering just out of reach. The weight of expectation had crushed her, always demanding perfection, always punishing her when she failed.
Her heart twisted as her mind spiraled back to the moment that had forever changed the course of her life. It had been a perfect spring day, one of those rare moments of lightness when everything felt like it belonged. She had been so eager to share her secret world with Amelia—her little sister, her closest friend. The dolls, the whispered stories, the shared dreams—everything had felt so perfect, so innocent. And then, the fire had come, the flames raging out of control, destroying it all. Amelia’s frightened face had burned itself into Freya’s memory, and her father’s cold, unforgiving gaze had sealed her fate. The punishment, the isolation, the years of silence—it had all crushed her. Her heart had cracked in that moment, and though she tried to suppress the fire inside her, it had only grown stronger, consuming her from the inside out.
Now, as the waves threatened to pull her under, the memories of her family—of their disappointment and control—choked her. She had been a prisoner of their expectations, a caged bird whose wings had been clipped before she could even learn to fly. Every breath she took felt like an insult to her freedom, a reminder that she was no longer in control of her own life.
Her eyes closed, and she willed herself to fade into unconsciousness, to escape the torment of her thoughts. But the waves grew harsher, the wind whipping around her, biting at her skin. She had no strength left to fight. The sea seemed to call to her now, offering an escape from everything.
But then, a sudden splash of water beside her yanked her from her stupor. Her heart leaped in her chest, the icy fear coursing through her veins. She tried to focus, but her vision was blurred, her body heavy with exhaustion. Just as she thought she might sink into the abyss, strong hands grasped her from the water, lifting her up with terrifying force.
Her vision was spinning, the world a dizzying blur. She gasped for air, trying to focus. A dark figure loomed over her, bathed in the pale light of the setting sun. As her eyes cleared, she made out the cruel faces of men surrounding her—tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes like cold stone. Her breath caught in her throat, panic seizing her. She recoiled instinctively, but it was no use. They were too strong, too fast. They lifted her effortlessly, their hands like iron around her limbs, and she couldn’t break free.
"She's a strange one," one of them muttered, his voice low and curious.
The other man—gruff, his features hardened like a man used to battle—looked down at Freya with a sneer. His eyes narrowed as he observed her trembling, soaked form. "She’s not our concern," he grunted, his voice rough with disinterest. "Get her in the carriage. She’s a prize now. And we’re taking her south. To Vrine."
Freya’s heart raced in terror. She tried to resist, her limbs heavy with the weight of exhaustion, but the men’s grip was unyielding. They bound her wrists tightly, the ropes biting into her skin as they shoved her into the back of a carriage. The wooden floor splintered beneath her feet, the harsh sounds of her struggles filling the air. The door slammed shut with a deafening thud, plunging her into darkness.
The air inside the carriage was stifling, thick with the scent of fear and sweat from the other prisoners huddled together in the gloom. Freya’s chest tightened as she glanced around, her heart sinking with realization. These people, these broken souls, were just like her—captive, enslaved, their spirits worn down by the years of brutal labor and oppression. They spoke in low murmurs, their faces hollow with the weight of too many years spent in chains.

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Flames (Under Revision)
FantasiIn a world where kingdoms rise and fall to power, a young girl, Freya Michelle, bears a secret that even she struggles to understand-a power of fire that burns deep within her soul. Born into a life of isolation and forced to conceal her fiery abili...