~A Wattpad featured and Wattys Longlisted story~
Lana can hardly remember what it's like to be free. After nine years as a captive on board a ship ruled by ruthless bounty hunters, sailing across Maris with no clear direction, she's desperate for so...
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SOMEWHERE ALONG THE hours of constantly feeling as if a knife is being driven into her skull, Lana starts to lose herself. Vyanna's magic feels as if fortified walls are being placed around her mind, thrusting all her free thoughts and control behind them, useless. She stopped screaming some time ago, and she can't move her body anymore. The tall grey walls tower over any sense of freedom within her, pushing her consciousness into a small corner of her mind, claustrophobic and trapped.
Panic ravages its way through her, and she struggles to move her body even an inch. Her body refuses to obey, leaving her in a lifeless shell that remains motionless. She's trapped within her own mind, unable to do anything other than observe. Her breathing quickens as she starts to feel herself hyperventilating. She can't even move her finger in the slightest! How could Vyanna have this much power over anyone?
Lana refocuses on Vyanna as she lets out a satisfied sigh, making her find a tide of anger flow over her and she thinks savagely, You won't be able to keep me in your control for long.
"We'll see about that. You're definitely stronger than most, I'll give you that," Vyanna admits in a bored tone, but looks at her with a dark hunger in her eyes, "But you're no match for me."
I'll never give up. That, I promise, she thinks angrily, making sure she feels every bit of spite and ferocity that she holds within her, but the Morai only laughs.
"Let's go for a walk," she says, and with a flick of her hand, the chains on Lana's wrists melt away into nothingness.
She's free, in a sense, but even if nothing physical is holding her down, she's still trapped. she can't move, or do anything she commands herself to do. Anger rushes through her and she wants to scream at that show of cruelty, but her lips refuse to move. No one can hear her cry for help except for herself, the one person who can do nothing about it.
Out of defiance, she tries to force her body to stay on the cot, to do anything that her mind wills it to do, but it doesn't. An invisible force pushes her body up from the cot towards the cell door without any of her control. She feels violated and trapped and scared in a way that she's never experienced before, but she refuses to give in. There's no way she doesn't have any control. There has to be a way she can regain her power.
A memory flashes through her mind of a day not too long ago in front of the caves of the Depingur Historia. With a warm glow, she remembers Skye's smiling face as he tells her to cast magic by channeling it through her center. She will see him again. She can't give up like this.
Forcefully, she focuses all her magical energy together in her mind, gathering it as if she's conjuring a magical orb. This time however, she pictures it as if she formed a small knife. She envisions all the grooves and curves of the knife, giving it an uncanny life of its own. For the finishing touch, she uses the last of her energy to hone the tip of the blade into a sharp and deadly point. Then, with a silent yell of anger and desperation, she thrust the weapon of pure energy towards the barrier trapping her mind.
