It had been ten years since I'd felt the warmth of the morning sun radiating across my bare skin. Ten years since I'd smelled the ever inviting aroma of a lively meadow, swatches of green decorated with vibrant flowers that filled the air with their heavenly floral scents. I missed the luminous snowy landscapes that encapsulated my home, creating a cozy escape from the world around me. Recollecting distant memories was the only thing holding me together through these years of pain, loneliness, and agony. I used to spend my nights sitting beside a warm fire, listening to the wood crackle as I tucked myself deeply into my favorite cushy lounge chair. I could almost smell notes of wood burning before a harsh noise jolted me from my subconscious.
The room before me was starkly different from the colorful places my mind would escape to. It was cold and dark, faintly illuminated by the glow of a single light that hung in the hallway, leaking through the small grated window at the top of the door. The air was stuffy, it wreaked of copper and dust, an unpleasant mixture concocted by the aftermath of my wounds soaking into the dirt floor. The walls were carved out of stone, a prison crafted beneath the mountain specially for me. The room was bare outside of an iron bed frame that was purposefully missing a mattress, replaced by wooden slats cut to fit. No amount of years here would make this place feel like home, constructed to drive any normal person mad.
The clothes on my back were all I had to remind me of my past. Once a week they'd bathe me, cater to my clothes, and treat my wounds. It was humiliating seeing how tattered they had become, loosely clinging to me as my body grew thinner. The black fur-lined cloak I wore the night I was taken was neatly laid to the right of me over the foot of the bed frame, tattered and coated with dirt that made it a convincing gray hue. The boots I wore sat on the floor by the side of the bed, covered by the residue of my injuries. My body ached as I bent down to put them on, pulling the leather up to my knees while the silver shackles that rested upon my wrists clanged together. The binds were the only thing that remained unscathed from the trials, etched with an anti-magic spell that kept my strength at bay.
Every day had started the same… they'd send a guard to escort me to see Amarantha, the woman originally assigned to torture information out of me on behalf of the King of Hybern. She was a wretched High Fae with golden-red hair and a unique charm that could fool anyone. Not long after she was appointed as my overseer, she cut ties with the King of Hybern. She managed to find a way to fool the seven High Lords of Prythian and take their powers, Lump proclaiming herself as the Queen of Prythian, but better known amongst men as the Deceiver. Despite her newfound title, Amarantha's fascination with me never changed, intrigued yet enraged by the fact I've yet to be broken.
There was no real concept of time Under the Mountain, but after years of living the same day over and over it became natural to know when the day would start and end. Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, growing louder as they approached the thick wooden door that kept me locked away from the world. A bolt flipped and the sound of steel reverberated through my ears as the door swung open. The shadowy figure stood at the doorway, holding out their hand as they motioned me forward. A pang of anguish shot through my body and mind as the tenderness of my wounds reminded me of what was to come.
I staggered forward, raising my arms out in front of me, allowing the guard to shackle my silver bracers together. The pieces of metal clashed as he aggressively tugged me forward by the chain, the cool surface of the cusps rubbing against my raw skin, before he spun me around and blindfolded me with a thick silk navy blue ribbon. Clutching my arm, he proceeded dragging me down the dimly lit cobblestone hallway toward the throne room, pieces of my rugged boots scraping over the stones as we walked. I was unsure of what punishment Amarantha had waiting for me, but I knew whatever awaited me was never easier than the day before.
Each session her frustration swelled causing her to lash out towards me and her underlings. Deep within her twisted mind she knew that although I was the prisoner, everyday I returned to my cell unwavering, she lost a bit of power. After ten years of punishment, I still refused to give her an inch, not even forfeiting my name. Amarantha began inviting the High Fae Under the Mountain to watch while I was burned, beaten, and dragged, hoping someone might recognize me and speak up in my place. Several eyes would watch as I endured countless trials blindfolded - yelling at me as I navigated fights, sat in silence as my screams rang throughout the halls, and mumbled amongst themselves every night I succeeded and was escorted out of the room. Onlookers would whisper under their breath, referring to me as the Unbreakable, the Nameless Fae, further belittling Amarantha's reputation and unintentionally worsening my following punishment.
I dreaded the day they'd discover I was not one of them. My ears were pointed, my skin porcelain, and my stature poised… but I wasn't fae. I shook my head abruptly, putting an end to my thoughts. It was vital I reminded myself that my mind wasn't safe down here, not around him. The guard finally stopped in front of me, the creaking of the throne room door groaned until I could hear murmurs from today's audience. Smells of seasoned meats and baked pastries flooded my senses. With a second whiff I could identify the burn of vinegar from freshly poured wine. My body weight shifted as discomfort set in… Today was different. My heart pounded as it became clear that Amarantha was celebrating something. What could be worth celebrating that requires my attendance. My feet stumbled over one another as the guard shoved me forward into the room. Quickly regaining my balance I stood still and listened, noticing the chatter had come to a stop.
She finally spoke, "Come forward, girl."
Her voice was smooth, almost angelic if it weren't for the venom that dripped from every syllable. Taking slow, calculated steps I continued towards her voice. The lack of sight had become natural at this point, comforting almost, no matter if it was in my dingy cell or blindfolded all day as Amarantha's muse. Counting my footsteps, I stopped at my usual marker and lifted my head. I took a breath and put up my facade before I joked, "Is this celebration for me? I hope you prepared my favorites."
She let out a chilling laugh before she responded, her voice unnerving, "Oh but of course! We're celebrating something big and you just so happen to be the guest of honor."
Despite my cool exterior, my thoughts spiraled trying to come up with what she possibly had on me, why she was in such high spirits. Any other day she would have sneered and sent the Attor after me for that comment. What could she possibly know? Was it Rhys? No, that'd be impossible… Since I was young my father had shown me how to protect myself against a Daemati… it was as easy as breathing. Sure, my magic had been stripped from me, but my mental fortitude remained fully intact. But…
Amarantha took my silence as an invitation to continue, "Bring him out."
The sound of someone struggling emerged from behind me, muffled by the sound of wings flapping, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. Him. Who could the Attor have? The only people it could be were… No… she couldn't…
"Now," you could hear her fiendish smile in the uptick of her voice as she chimed, "Remove her blindfold, we don't want her to miss anything!"
The guard removed the silk covering from my eyes and the light blinded me, causing me to grimace. The throne room was vast, filled with rows of ivory tables covered in various foods where the High Fae sat, but their eyes remained fixated on me. I hadn't seen real food in almost a decade yet my mouth remained dry. Amarantha sat before me in her black stone throne, a golden crown woven into her reddish gold hair. Her body was adorned with a sleek red gown that accentuated the curves beneath it as it stretched down to the floor. To her left stood a man, tall with a muscular build, short blue-black hair, and pale skin, still several shades darker than my own. His eyes were a striking violet and he wore a black long sleeve tunic with long black trousers that had golden stars woven into the seams on his thighs down to his feet. His face remained stoic and calm as his eyes met mine. It was easy enough to assume that the man that stood before me was Rhysand. The dark aura that emanated from him, liquid pools of ebony swirling at his feet, eerily reminding me of the all too familiar dark talons that pulled at the edges of my mind the last several years, scratching away at the walls I had created.
To her right lingered the Attor. They were hunched over, grinning as their claws gripped tightly around the hooded captive's arm. Amarantha snapped her fingers as her lips curved into a wicked grin, "Now take off his hood, she deserves to see her gift."
The Attor's voice was guttural and dry as he replied, "Yes, my Queen."
His claws gripped the top of the bag that withheld his prisoner's identity, slowly pulling it off as he watched for my reaction. My eyes remained glued to the man in front of me, fervently scanning his body for a sign that it wasn't him. The cloth reached his eyes and my heart plummeted down into the depths of my stomach. It couldn't be him… Aleksander. He was supposed to be gone. Safe. My jaw tightened as I swallowed the emotions that welled up inside of me like a stormy sea, refusing to show any sign of weakness to the woman that stood in front of me.
Amarantha's voice was smooth as she questioned, "What… Don't like your gift?"
My body went numb as I looked at the familiar face that stood before me. My heart thumped louder as an uncontrolled anger washed over me… Not only for the man that stood before me, but because of the helplessness I felt in saving him. They promised they would leave my family out of this if I came. I was willing to endure whatever pain I had to to keep them safe… yet my brother stood several feet away from me… nullifying all meaning for the years of pain I'd suffered.
I spat, "You were supposed to leave them alone. This was not part of the deal." I cut a glare towards Rhys, "Was it you?"
Aleksander yelped as the Attor kicked him to his knees. I searched his features, letting myself remember the man I'd forced myself to forget - his green eyes stripped of the light that once illuminated them, his ashen white hair littered with flecks of dust and dirt, and his pale skin bruised by the blows that brought him here.
"And neither was your lack of cooperation. If we had known you would be this… difficult… we would have never agreed. I must admit, tracking down a family without a name proved impossible, but thankfully a lovely peer came forward with their whereabouts. It's a shame that your mother and father couldn't be here… heard they put up a good fight… but your brother should be enough to get you talking."
Someone I trusted gave them up. Someone in this room sided with her and ruined everything. My eyes remained transfixed on him as I pleaded, "What do you want, Amarantha? I'll give you anything… Just let -"
"Don't," Aleksander said firmly. "She'll never let me live."
Tears stung my eyes as Amarantha laughed, her joy filling every inch of the room before she nodded smugly, "You're a smart one! Why would I bother when we could kill him, shattering you from the inside instead? Then, I bet Rhysand could finally have his way with you, he'd enjoy that."
The pounding in my ears grew louder, the realization that I was hopeless and there was nothing I could do to save him crashed down on me. I took a step forward, reaching out to him, hoping to feel the warmth of his skin one last time until I was yanked back by the guard. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. I did this," I mumbled quietly.
Aleksander's eyes glimmered as I spoke, showing glimpses of the radiant jade I had once grown so accustomed to. He said shakily, "No… You did nothing wrong. It should have been me here, not you. I'll always regret letting you go… promise me you won't let this -"
The sound of his ear splitting scream rang throughout my mind as I stood in disbelief watching the life drain from my brother's eyes. The Attor's large claws had impaled him, his crimson blood pooling on the marble tile beneath him. I threw my head back, connecting with the nose of the guard behind me as he cursed in pain and I lunged forward, catching Aleksander's body before he could hit the floor. The unshed tears that once pooled in my eyes cascaded down my cheeks. The warmth of his skin was soothing as my hand traced over his features, fighting to remember the brother I'd soon lose forever - his prominent cheekbones that flushed with red every time I'd tease him, his soft white hair made of starlight that matched my own, and his gentle smile that always comforted me when I needed it most. He had such a beautifully bright soul and deserved more than this… he should be the one still breathing. Not me. His blood soaked my clothes, symbolizing the life that was soon to be gone. I prayed to find the magic within me to get inside his mind and take away his pain. The magic to walk him through our memories one last time, the memories I had suppressed for so long to protect him from them.
Aleksander's body grew colder in my arms, triggering an overwhelming pain and heartbreak that rippled through me, tearing a chasm-like wound in my chest. I desperately reached within for comfort, my mind taking me to our favorite places - the niveous mountain tops, the ice covered lakes, our family home, and the town's sparring ring where my Father and I would practice for hours. I clawed at every memory I had, trying to latch onto them knowing that if they faded I'd lose them entirely. A hand gripped my shoulder and I lashed out, fighting to hold onto the images of my family members' faces as my vision became shrouded by a growing darkness. One final yelp escaped my lips before my consciousness was swallowed by the black abyss.