White Force

Liar

Quick message before the chapter!

I'm sorry for the long. Overly long. Regrettably long absence. I honestly think I was in a mental funk. I couldn't find the desire to write anymore. I felt completely disconnected from my stories and didn't know how to find the rhythm again. Every time I tried, I got no where. But recently, I started feeling inspired. I missed you all! Forgive me :(

CORA

The clanking of the metal shackles bit into my ankles and filled the dark  passageways with a sadistic song. Two stoic-faced guards draped in steal armory stood on either side of me, dragging me forward. But I did not go easily. I fought and screamed until my lungs burned, and my weak body shook with agony. Still, I raged until the whole castle trembled.

My voilent eyes glared at King Toro, who was priveledged enough to avoid being bounded like a thief, but that didn't stop four guards from encircling him. The Fire King was not exempt from the cold dungeons below. 

Unlike me, Toro didn't make a single sound, which should have been a sign that a plan was brewing in his head. But it didn't matter to me. I was born a fighter, and I was going to fight my way out of this, with or without his added protests.

We abruptly turned down another hall, this one illuminated by the quiet moon glowing through the open windows. The wind quietly swept through the hallway, gently tossing my hair about as if the night held no promise of malice.

There needn't no storm for me to know the horrors that lay ahead. Titus' wrath was unmatched, and I feared for his rebuke.

We finally reached a set of double doors, which were covered in thick ice, and almost looked  frozen shut. A guard appeared from behind me and opened one of the doors, and then he stood aside, allowing us to enter.

My captors led me to a single chair in the middle of the room. They roughly forced me onto the seat, and tied me down so that I couldn't move.

King Toro entered next - his hooded eyes full of fury, but he refused to meet mine as he took his place next to me. There was no chair for him; he stood proud and unashamed the way a king aught to.

I turned in my chair to look up at him, silently begging him to meet my eyes, but he remained facing forward. My heart was nearly shattered by his aloofness.

Minutes ticked on, the silence growing painful. I was sure every guard in the room could hear my drumming heartbeat. Finally, Titus peacefully strolled into the room as if he were meeting us for tea.

He was clad in burgundy elegance with a crown encrusted in heavy jewels. On either hand, he wore rings with jewels twice the size of his fingers. He even wore a smug smile as he approached us.

One could have thought we were meeting to discuss the weather. The only telltale sign that something was amiss was the sight of the guards flanking him, hands on swords as if awaiting his order to attack. My breath caught in my throat.

Titus took his time adjusting in a seat at the long, oak table. After straightening his tunic, he lifted his eyes to greet us.

"My accomplice and my girl have become quite friendly, I take it," Titus stated, his lips curled in amusement. "Perhaps too friendly."

"I am not your gir-"

"Silence!" Titus roared. His eyes met mine and blazed like a mad man. There. There hid his anger. I knew it was behind the indifferent mask. "I am your king."