Devouring Hollow Hearts || ONC'24

》Chapter Fifteen《

They came as dusk captured the third day.

Chyrie finished wrapping and polishing the hilt of her rapier at sunrise, using the last of her hours to practice the positions Xiran taught her.

Over and over, she fought herself.

A scorch mark from the flaming doppelganger she summoned now impacted the wall.

Chains chafed her wrists as three men loomed around her, shoving every so often in an attempt to rattle the fortress of earth she'd spent days constructing around herself.

The Ceirvani men even strapped her into a bandelier, forcing her to carry the blades she'd forged.

She'd only blinked.

Not even her emotions could threaten the thick walls.

She built the foundation with painstaking force, reliving the memory of her capture so Anryth could no longer use it against her.

Chyrie knew tears lined her lashes when Courmasse came into view, even if she managed to swallow them back.

She stared in awe at the cliffside city, watching as Emberian people snuck peeks of her from boarded windows and hid in the once polished streets of quartz. The heels of her boots still clicked beneath her as they strode for the palace, several streets north.

Her attention lingered on the blood smeared roads, littered with food and debris from the Ceirvani brutality. A beautiful smokey pink with veins of white now murky and chipped.

Chyrie ignored the nausea, looking past the beaten city until all she could see was Anryth standing on the staircase before her.

His smirk reminded her of the adders lurking around in these caves, poised and ready to strike.

"Chyrivelle," he beamed. "So lovely of you to join us."

Tipping her head in acknowledgement, she refused to bow. After murdering her parents, capturing her brother, her friend, her soul, he'd been given enough.

"Anryth," she replied.

"Take her to Holding," Anryth commanded the brute holding her chain. "I've a few last minute touches to see to."

Without another word, he disappeared into her home, striding as if he'd carved the stone himself.

Chyrie grunted when the larger man, blond with wide shoulders, jolted her forward. He had the grace of a swamp monster with none of the legend. All she could interpret were the strange smacks his mouth made while he powered down apples.

He yanked her through the halls, leading her to the dungeons her family only kept as a formality.

When she rounded the corner, the blood drained from her face.

Slumped into the far corner, beaten within an inch of life, Cathan's ragged gasps chilled her to the bone.

Her brother's shuddered breathing changed as she was thrown into the room. Cathan lifted hollow brown eyes to her, bruised cheeks and smudged in grime.

"Chyrie..."

Her heart threatened to stop at the sound of his voice.

Chyrie raced to his side as the cell was locked behind them, kneeling down to take in her brother's crippled frame. In what condition were they deemed worthy of fighting?

"What happened to you..."

Cathan coughed and adjusted against the wall, gripping his ribs. "Anryth claimed it was justice—for what, I don't know."