A Court of War and Rage

Chapter Two

Azriel

The light from their torch burns my eyes. When my vision clears, I see their leering faces standing above me. One of them carries a small pot emanating a sharp smell. "We thought you might be bored. Come play with us, little brother."

I press myself against the stone wall of my cell, pure terror chilling my blood. "You aren't supposed to be down here," I say as bravely as I can.

"We can go wherever we want, little bastard. You're the one who no one wants to see," one of them, Dreven, sneers. The other, Zaff, pushes me hard into the wall. My head hits with a sickening impact. I sink to the floor, the room tilting around me. The sharp smell grows stronger as Dreven yanks the lid from the small pot.

"Hold out your hands!" Zaff commands.

I lash out, kicking one of them in the shins. Stars swim in my vision as my head connects with the stones again. A swift kick to my ribs follows, knocking the breath from my lungs. "Give me your hands, you bastard!" Zaff yells.

They hold out my arms and pour the sharp smelling liquid over my skin. "We're going to play a little game, brother," Dreven says with a dark chuckle. Terror spikes through me again, but I am locked in their grip. "Everyone says that we Illyrians have fast healing powers, but no one knows how fast. Let's see if you are even a real Illyrian, Azriel."

I thrash, trying to throw them off. Zaff puts his full weight on my upper body as Dreven lowers the torch to my oil-drenched skin. Both of them share a malicious grin before the flame makes contact with my skin. I feel the flesh melting as unspeakable agony crawls along my arm. Screaming echoes through the cell, and it takes me a long time to realize it's mine. The pain goes on and on and on, and I scream and scream and scream. Blackness begins to form on the edge of my vision.

Can't anyone hear me?

The sickening smell of burnt flesh overpowers the oil. The pain stops for a moment. A sensation of intense itching begins deep within my injured flesh. Zaff holds up my blackened arm and watches with fascination as the flesh begins to heal itself. Dreven pours more oil onto my healing arm. I let out another howl of agony. "You're doing good, Azriel. Less screaming, please. It's annoying."

My jaws are wrenched open and a foul tasting cloth is stuffed in my mouth. I let out another wail as the flames make contact with my skin again. The gag absorbs the sound, but it fills my mind. I can't bear this! Mother above, please end this pain. End it! Someone help!

Loud voices and clamoring footsteps can be heard outside of the door. Zaff and Dreven exchange looks of horror as more light floods the small cell I call home. The sensation of the fire lifts from my skin. I watch through blurring vision as my brothers are pulled off of me. One of the guards glances down at me in pity before I am lifted into his arms.

My vision darkens, and I begin to fade into a deep pit of blackness where the echoing screams or burning flames or the smell of singed skin and hair can't follow me. I feel something deep inside of me stir before I fall into unconsciousness.

⧪

I am surrounded by darkness on all sides. The absence of light comforts me. It means I am alone, but I have never been lonely in this place. The shadows have always whispered to me in that ancient and musical voice, but I haven't been able to decipher what they say. Until now.

They threw me down here to break me, and perhaps something inside of me did break when I was burned. A swirling, bottomless void fills my mind, my very being. My instincts roar at me to fight and feel the wind under my wings, but the shadows calm them. Patience, they tell me. The darkness cannot imprison you. You are its master.

So, I wait. Days turn into weeks. A healer comes often to check the progress of my burns. "The scars will never fade, but your arms will still work."

Eventually, the healer stops coming. The bandages have been removed. In the single hour of light I am permitted each day, I see the red, swirled skin. My brothers smirk every time they see the scars. Icy rage flares inside of me, but I push it away. The shadows in my mind consume it, rejoicing at the anger.

Let them smirk. Let them think they have won. Let them think I am broken. One day, I will show them what they have done, what they turned me into. One day, they will be consumed by the darkness.