𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 (ACOTAR FANFIC)

Forty-one

It was time.

I needed to go back and they wouldn't allow a moment longer, they even weren't subtle about my timeline in their note.

You're needed for your service to the Flame,

If you chose to disobey a direct command, you and your family will be sentenced to death.

blah, blah, blah.

Short but sweet, glad to know they cared. Though the part about me and my family being sentenced to death was a little off-putting.

I'd seen the note when I first woke up and had dressed in my best fighting leathers before I snuck out of the house before dawn when no one could stop me.

The day was off. It felt fast like everything was happening in hyper-speed and all I could do was try my best to catch up. My mind had been racing a mile a minute since I woke up and I felt like my brain might just explode.

I thought something bad was going to happen. I felt it in my bones. Like a presence at my back just waiting for an opportunity to strike. It was the shadow of a possibility.

I wished ai didn't have to go and just stay at the manor where I was surrounded by my family.

But what choice did I have? I was a puppet and they held my strings, I was never my own person. My soul would always be bound in chains and left at the mercy of whoever wished it so.

When you lose your freedom, it's much like losing a loved one. There are stages denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. They come and go and after a while, you forget what freedom feels like.

Nothing ever felt the same, though.

Not looking at the night sky, because you know the sun will come up in the morning and you'll be forced to be someone else again—someone that you hate.

Not the peace you feel when you look at something you love because you're forced to wonder what they'd think of you if they knew who you really were.

You could never hold something close to your heart for fear that it would be taken away and leave you more shattered than you already were.

I was a puppet and the stitches that held me together were fraying. Slowly.

I approached the large worn down building, making sure my hood concealed my face before I stopped at the door.

I didn't want to have to be the person I needed to when I entered this place. I wished I could just be myself for once in my Cauldron damned life.

But we don't always get what we want, do we?

Closing my eyes I relished in the last few moments of peace. But my eyes opened again and I was no longer Danika Archeron.

I was a killer. I was a soldier. I was an obedient little minion.

Strolling up to the old worn down door like I owned the place I pushed it open, coming face to face with what you'd least expect his place to look like on the inside. All wealth and advancements, gold embellishments on the walls and marble-lined floors; a stark contrast to the broken-down exterior of the building.

Two guards stood on the side of the hallway and I pulled down my hood, putting on a look that dared them to stop me from entering.

The guards yielded nodding their heads and allowing me to pass. I began walking holding out my arm and letting it drift on the wall. I took the next left leading to a series of doors along a long hallway. I didn't dare stop and look, in places like these you never knew who was watching you. I kept my eyes on the door at directly the end of the hallway. It was dark oak with swirls and patterns and words I knew were in a long-lost language that even the people here didn't know.