EMBERS (Marcus Acacius) [WEEKLY UPDATES]

XII | Win or Die

The suffocating darkness was constant. I hadn't seen the light in hours—maybe longer. Time had become immeasurable and irrelevant. All that mattered now was the throbbing ache in my chest, the tightness in my throat, the bitter taste of despair on my tongue.

I was alone. Or so I thought.

Across the hall, Acacius was still awake. I could hear the soft scrape of his boots on the floor, his shallow breaths, the quiet clink of the chains that bound his wrists. I wanted to hate him—to curse him for throwing away everything—and for me. But the truth was, there was nothing to say. He had done exactly what he had promised he would do, and now we were both trapped here, with nothing but the darkness and the steady drip of water from the damp ceiling to keep us company.

A soft rustling from the other cell caught my attention. Acacius' voice broke the silence, low and rough, carrying across the dark space.

"Adriana..?"

I closed my eyes, knowing that if I answered, I would betray the fragile calm that I had managed to hold onto. But I couldn't ignore him. Not after everything.

"I'm here," I whispered back, my voice cracking, barely recognisable as my own.

He was silent for a moment, as if contemplating his next words. When he spoke again, it was with the quiet defiance I had come to expect from him. "We can't stay here," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They won't keep us alive forever."

My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to argue—to tell him that escape was impossible—that there was no way out. But I knew better. We both knew the stakes. "I know." I agreed instead. "But what choice do we have? They'll kill us if we try anything."

The scrape of Acacius' shoes against the ground sounded again, closer this time. It was as if he couldn't stand the stillness any longer. "You know this place, Adriana. You know the gladiators. We have a better chance than most."

My pulse quickened at the thought. There was truth in his words. I had spent years in this arena, learning the layout, the routines, the guards' movements. I knew where the weak spots were. But that knowledge felt hollow now, useless in the face of our current situation.

"We're too far gone," I said quietly, my voice thick with resignation. "Even if we escape, they'll be hunting us until the end."

A pause, then the sound of Acacius shifting, leaning against the cold stone wall. "Doesn't matter." His voice was absent of any emotion. "They'll be hunting us anyway. Might as well make it count."

The breath caught in my throat at the conviction in his words. I could picture him on the other side of the bars, staring into the same abyss as I was, the same expressionless facade on his rugged face. All seemed, lost, but his determination was unwavering.

I wanted to scream at him; to tell him to stop being so naive. To let go of this foolish hope. But my body betrayed me. My heart—so accustomed to violence and survival—longed for something more. A way out. A chance to live—to fight back.

"Tell me how," I whispered, barely daring to believe the words as they left my lips.

Across the dark divide, I could hear Acacius move again, a shift in his tone. There was a quiet chuckle, dry and bitter. "You still trust me, don't you?"

The question hung in the air, suspended in the silence like a tightrope between us. I didn't answer immediately. What was left to trust? He had risked everything for me. He was a traitor to the empire, and for what? For a single life? For my life.

But deep down, I knew the answer. I did trust him. I didn't want to—didn't want to believe that he had thrown away his future and his honour for me, but I couldn't deny it.