A New Age, of old strength and allies (ONC 2023)

5. The pain of survival

I awoke to the feeling of my skin throbbing as though someone had attempted to unsuccessfully flay me alive, my throat was so dry and inflamed that it hurt to simply breathe. As I stirred, my eyelids fluttered, yet felt weighted along with the rest of my body. A tender rawness was chased by a feverish chill that made my thoughts cloudy and unfocused.

‘Death may have been preferable.’

The overall heaviness seemed determined to drag me under once again, but I refused to tire so easily. I continued to struggle until finally my eyes opened to a blurry dimness, as I emerged from the darkness. Blinking slowly, my vision gradually sharpened until everything came into focus.

The tops of the tall golden candlesticks, with their ivory candles, stood like narrow sentinels to either side of me. The air in the room was heavy with a scent similar to that of bitter autumn leaves, and a blend of enticing musk. After a moment of looking around, I realised that I was laid out across a stone table, the cold chill seeping through the thin cushions that I rested on.

The ceiling was decorated with a beautiful mural of the mythical creature, Pegasus. The detailing on their white feathered wings, along with the expression of calm interest in their eye, almost dream-like. As I continued to look around, movement caught my eye, and then I heard his voice.

“Our girl of a rare beauty.”

His green-eyed gaze appeared above me, far too closely. I swallowed before trying to speak, but winced as the motion itself was agonising. Suddenly, his face disappeared before returning. Standing to the side, he gently, almost cautiously, helped me to raise my head as he brought a shallow metal cup to my lips. A smell of bitterness grew stronger, as I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

He smirked, “Relax, it’ll help to ease the pain and to hydrate you. Besides, poisoning you while you’re still weak wouldn’t be any fun.”

With the little strength that I had, a blank look with the barest hint of irony was all that I could manage, but his mischievous smirk simply brushed it aside.

Returning to the small cup, I attempted a first sip, the concoction thick, almost soup-like. Tensing my jaw, I fought not to let my revulsion show, but soon the bitter remedy was soothing my burning throat with every sip.

Exhausted, I closed my eyes, unable to fully support my own weight, as I allowed him to carefully lay me back down.

“Thank you,” I half whispered, my voice hoarse as though from disuse. He caught my gaze as he winked, setting the cup aside.

Looking around more closely, I saw his friend standing in the shadows. The candlelight only partially revealing his face.

“How do you feel?” he asked, as he met my gaze, his voice as lovely as before.

I raised an eyebrow. “Far worse than you can imagine.”

He laughed, a soft melody, but a harsh expression crossed his features. “The price of saving another.”

Gently tilting my head, I felt another flash of pain. “The consequences of choices, or the price of survival.” I swallowed awkwardly. “Who’s to say...”

He stared at me intently for a moment, before he asked. “Why do you continue to fight?”

As he watched me, I could see that his curiosity seemed less genuine than his intent to know the answer. Almost as though there was more to it.

“Because what's life without a challenge?”

He smirked. “You tell me.”

“In a word... Boring.”