A Court of Flames and Myths

Ch1: Bound

I lost track of time ages, maybe decades, ago. I don't know what time of year it is, I haven't even seen the sun in what feels like a century or two. All I see is that suffocating blue light. I know that I cant move, but that is only out of a deeply rooted survival instinct. When I move even in the slightest, the chains holding me tighten and set my body on fire. I know the fire isn't real, its a magic sort of fire that rips you apart on the inside. Whatever the chains are made of has been strong enough to keep me down, wrapped in them from my neck to my ankles. The shackles on my wrists, neck and above my feet sometimes felt like they were actually cutting into me.

I vaguely remember who I was before the fog set in. I remember the taste of wind and rain, and how it made me feel alive. The skies had always been a comfort, like I was born there. I knew I was powerful from a young age, a male who I believe was my father called me his heart's fire,  tine croithe. He kept me hidden for a very long time. His only daughter. He said my heart and soul were the gift to him and not the depth of my power. I was warned by everyone else that my power was a weapon that anyone would steal, if given the opportunity. So I kept the majority of it hidden when I was let into the world. I learned how to fight with fists and a blade instead, and only wielded the very basics of fae power. I knew that I could fight, not so much in my current physical state, but before this I think I was a warrior. A princess.

I don't know how exactly I landed myself in this position. I kept to my visions mostly, watching and listening to the outside world. Like being shown the next few decades in fast forward. Glimpses of parties, friends, schemes. Then one of a ruddy king in a bone castle. They told me he couldn't be trusted. I left my home on the continent to warn my friends if I could. Unsurprisingly, no one listened.  No one had heard from or suspected movements of the isolated King on the island. Though it was confirmed when I was working to disrupt his careful inquiries of the island where my friends lived. The next thing I knew I was face to face with him.

There was a time where I think I was kept as a guest, but still not allowed to leave. I had a room and a comfy bed. A gilded cage. I try to remember when I started to forget, but it just gets gradually more foggy. I couldn't remember when or why I never used the whole of my power to get away. I remember the male livid beyond belief because a red-haired female stole something from him. He had asked me something soon after, but I cant remember what, just that my answer enraged him more. That is when the spells start to mix with the fog. Mainly whispers when I closed my eyes, like it was a song that had no words worth remembering. He used a lot in the beginning, nothing worked. Like he was trying to pour water on lava, it would halt the flow but only for seconds. I had burned through the spells before they could take hold, parts of them would always linger, like they were trying to fight to live right along side me.

After that is when it got really dark, my eyes would only flicker open, but not long enough for my vision to clear. I don't know how long I swam in the darkness of my mind. I barely could feel my body anymore, much less control it. The peace it offered was a welcome one; no court obligations or scheming in the shadows. I had learned to find comfort in those shadows, sometimes I thought I could hear them whispering about the world in my ear. That seemed like nothing more than a dream now.

The last clear memory I have was pain; like an earth-shattering, soul cleaving kind of pain. I was ripped from the darkness and the male was screaming my name. The rage at my unresponsiveness written clearly on his face. He had started whipping me with something made of the fire that now held me. I tried to speak but he wouldn't let me,  like he didn't know he had that certain amount of power over me that controlled my base functions. I was screaming into the darkness but my body didn't budge. He picked me up by the throat, out of the puddle of my own blood, and threw me across what one could consider a throne room. I felt the free fall, and then I felt the impact across my back that was already wide open and raw. It was an indescribable level of pain and torture, like I was literally being ripped from my body, but kept there just to feel every bit of agony possible. I felt my spine fracture and then I felt the loss of a limb being ripped off of me like paper. A part of me has not stopped screaming since.