Citadel of Shadows

Chapter Seven

Alamora

I opened my eyes and the sight before me was terrible. Blood coated the altar, the place where I received my punishments. I couldn't remember what I had done, but a handprint still stung the side of my cheek. A small voice inside my head kept repeating over and over that I deserved this pain. I didn't know any different. How could I? This was my life.

They started to burn incense. It burned my throat, my eyes. I resisted the urge to cough. It would be another lash, another strike to add to my punishment. I was stripped and laid across the altar, cold marble making me shiver. I closed my eyes as a gauntleted hand closed around my head and shoved it forward, my face grinding into the dried blood.

There was a moment as all I heard was rustling and then, sharpness against my back. A dagger, cutting into my shoulder. I didn't let myself move or make a noise, knowing it would get worse if I did. I couldn't show pain. I wouldn't.

Then it started. The blade cut strips into my back, until my back was just white-hot agony and wetness. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but no noise. I screwed my lids shut, not wanting to see the face that caused my suffering. I had to ignore it and just focus on surviving.

There was a reprieve and then, a crack of a whip against my back. Over and over, drawing this out. I didn't even know how long I had been there. There were no windows or hourglasses, so I was left to the mercy of this man and his cruelty.

There was a shift and I was in a silk covered chamber. Reds and dark purples, gold trim. It all moved with the breeze from the balcony. I had been dressed up again, in white. My back was a mess and if I shifted in the wrong way, it reminded me how painful it had been to be punished. There was a white-haired figure reclining back on velvet pillows, draped in golden jewellery, precious stones glittering and shifting in the afternoon light.

She rarely ever called me into her quarters, unless she wanted to 'talk'. I was treated like a doll, a toy for her to discard. I kept telling myself that I deserved it, that it was all I deserved. She lifted her head and pierced me with a crimson gaze, lips painted scarlet and curving into an elegant grin. The maid escorted me to her feet and whispered for me to approach her. I kept my head down and made it to her side of my own accord. She ran her fingers through my hair, making me shudder.

"Tell me, what was your punishment like?"

And I told her. I was careful to explain that I understood what I did wrong, that I needed the punishment. She was smiling throughout my recollection and stopped me with a hand raised.

"He cut into your back before whipping you?"

My eyes widened and I nodded.

"Mhm. Wait here."

She looked to the servant in the corner, who bowed and approached. He was clad in gold chains around his neck and wrists. I wondered if it was decorative or they showed that she owned him.

"Go find my head guard. I would like a word with him."

He bowed wordlessly and headed away. She continued to smile, still running her fingers through my hair. I did not move, letting her do as she pleased. She would do it whether I wanted or not, but I would rather keep her happy.

Her head guard appeared, grinning. He noted that I was there and chuckled. He seemed cocky, but I knew better. She had told him only to use the whip, not anything else. He disobeyed her orders and he had earned her ire. She waved her hand to dismiss her servants, who genuflected and left just the three of us.

"Why do you think you are here?"

He was still grinning. I felt a cruel part of my mind look forward to seeing it being wiped away.

"Because I have done so well and you wish to reward me, my lady."

She laughed. It was melodic, but it felt like glass being shattered against my skin. I kept staring at the guard, just watching him continue to be cocky.

"Gods, you are so fucking stupid."

Her smile dropped and she pushed herself into a sitting positon, before pulling me into her lap. She was fever-hot, burning where her skin touched mine. She ran her fingers over my scars and over my back, but I didn't flinch away.

"Did I tell you to do anything more than just lashes? I don't think I did."

He stiffened, realising his mistake then and there. He looked to me and I saw fury rise in his expression. Then fear, as he noted that his mistress was curled around me and keeping me from his sadistic nature.

"My lady, I just..."

There was screaming and blood. I was smiling, leaning into her.

There was another shift and I was in agony, covered in shadows and blood. I couldn't see anything, I could just hear my screaming. I convulsed against the stone, the stone warming with my pain. There was chanting now, loud and ancient. One voice led them all, stronger than the rest. It was her.

I didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve this.

My head was pulled back and a dark figure lifted a knife, the point aimed at my ribs. I screamed louder, out of fear and pain.

I awoke, damp with sweat and throat hoarse from screaming. Anae burst into the room, eyes red and hair in disarray. I started sobbing, my body curling inwards and I kept chanting to myself.

"I deserve this. I deserve this."

Over the next few hours, my fear faded, but my dreams did not. I told Anae, I told her about what had happened. She stroked my back, her face growing pale with horror. There were so vivid, so real, that they had to be memories. I must've locked them away because of how horrifying it was to experience such things at such a young age.

"Why am I remembering now?"

Anae shrugged, still rocking me back and forth. I didn't stop her, it was calming me down and bringing me back to the here and now. She was humming an elven lullaby, one that had helped me many times before. I even started to hum along, grounding myself further.

After a little while, I felt a sense of normality. My mother shifted herself and faced me, brushing my bedhead away from my face. She seemed so tired, so drained by what was going on. It wasn't the same as Amaris, thankfully, but it caused me to stop and think.

"Go to bed, please. I'll stay up and do some reading."

She shook her head. There was a defiance in her chin and I knew that I had no chance at convincing her otherwise. I got that from her, I think.

"Maybe we should talk to the Oracle, the one that has had dreams about you before."

It was my turn to disagree, but she gripped the sides of my head and looked into my eyes, not breaking our gazes.

"She will know more than us. I have a feeling that she'll be expecting us, even if it is late at night."

I nibbled the inside of my cheek, looking away from my mother. She had a point. She always did. With things going the way they were, perhaps someone like Cassara could be a massive help. I sighed and nodded.

"Can we clean ourselves up first?"

Anae tugged at my hair gently, giving me a look that very clearly said, 'As if I was going to let you out like this'. She let go of my face and started rummaging through my clothes. I already had an idea that she was going to choose the easiest combination, which would be a plain tunic and cotton pants. I sat there and let her take control, listening to my gut feeling which told me that she needed this.

"Mama, I love you."

She smiled, turning back to me.

"I love you too, Mora."