Edited as of 03/25/2017 with the help of my wonderful beta Ellara Levellan

Further editing had been done as of 2020.

Thank you again, everyone. Stay safe.

Chapter Four: Spiraling fires

Time.

It is a fantastic notion that we rely upon throughout our lives. Our perceptions, our very livelihoods, are based so highly upon the sense, the concept, of time.

Time...

I did not know how much time had passed while I was trapped within that cesspool. Sometimes the hours flew by like seconds. In turn, the seconds passed as if they were years. Auron kept his promise to me. His threat. As I continued to prove, repeatedly, that I would not obey even the smallest of his orders, my life well and truly became that of a living hell.

Yet, somehow, I managed to hold fast to my sanity throughout it all. I learned how to somehow lock myself away in the back of my mind whenever the pain grew too much to bear. It was strange, in a way. I could deal with the pain, the torture, and yet hold on to 'myself' throughout it all. Yet... had he attacked in a different way, had he taken me, I know that I would have broken. I would have lost myself.

It helped that I knew what he wanted from me. He wanted my willing submission. Wanted what little 'innocence' I had left. He promised me freedom from the pain if I would just... willingly warm his bed like all his other pets. But I refused. Again and again, I denied him. His mistake of telling me what he wanted was enough to give me the mental strength that I needed to continue my defiance. To keep trying to get free.

And again, time passed.

My body underwent several strange changes. Most of them were hardly noticeable to the naked eye. I began to heal faster from the damage done to me. Began to move and fight better during my escape attempts. Improved strength was undoubtedly a boon, but it wasn't enough most days. A more significant change proved to be partially retractable claws.

Those claws proved to be exceptionally useful. They looked near enough to my original nails from the top, but they were odd when looking at the underside. There was a visible divot in the tip of my finger, showing where the claw tucked away. Less bird of prey and more, hell kangaroo or some other marsupial. Suitable for digging or clawing things up.

After one particular escape attempt, where I managed to severely cut up the two males who had come to relocate me, I was moved and bound up in a large, circular room. A room built for isolation and intimidation alike. My wrists were bound in shackles, and I was left hanging in the center of the room like a display piece. My feet dangling almost three feet above the floor. It was painful. Especially once my strength eventually failed me, and I could no longer hold myself up. During the month that I was left alone in that room, the biggest change of all took place.

At first, I noticed a dull ache centered along my back and shoulders. It was a minor pain when compared to everything else I'd been through. But then the damned thing turned into the most persistent itch possible. Ignorable, for the first few days, but then it grew to the point of constant agony. Unlike everything else I'd been put through, this was an internal sort of torture. Auron had put me through much, but he wasn't clever enough to turn one's own body against them when it came to pain. No. He liked causing physical agony and emotional turmoil. Surprisingly, he avoided using drugs on people.

The pain slowly began to grow more and more intense as the days passed. I was strangely relieved that I was left alone beyond the daily feedings. Having to deal with that itching, roiling pain was almost enough to break me. Thankfully it stopped, but not in a way that was expected. No, my back muscles rippled and spasmed. The sickening noise of flesh tearing filled the air. A strangled roar escaped my lips at the sensation. When all was said and done, however, I felt not pain but relief. A relief that filled me down to the very marrow of my bones.

Shivers wracked my body as the skin on my back healed over. There was a heavy, unfamiliar weight extending from my back. It took several minutes for my mind to clear, but I could move that new weight around. Somehow, someway, I had new limbs! I could feel them and move them around like my arms, but the movements were uncoordinated. Sluggish. I shifted my head around to look over my shoulder and blinked. Wings. I... had wings. How strange. Out of everything I'd witnessed so far while trapped here, wings had not been on my list of things I'd ever expected to see.

From what I could tell, they were... well... not bat-like exactly. The structure seemed the same, 'finger'-bones bending and stretching like a bat's or a dragon's wings. The main difference was that they were covered in... feathers? I managed to shift one wing so that it brushed my raised and bound arm. Yeah, those were feathers. Downy-soft feathers to boot. I managed to bend the wing forward and around me to examine the feathers with a detached sort of curiosity. White with tings of silver. How very strange.

My own surprise at seeing my new limbs paled in comparison to Auron's surprise. He froze in the entryway of the door, not two hours after my wings had... grown? Burst free? Whatever. Our eyes locked, and I noticed that his eyes had gone wide with surprise and... was that anger? Fear? Why was he afraid? Even if I tried to fight him, the new wings wouldn't do much to him.

Not only that, but... I felt strangely lethargic. Almost unwilling, or perhaps unable to fight or lash out as he approached me. That odd relief was joined by a strange sense of joy. It was like something within me had been set free. Like a large, lazy cat finally allowed to stretch its' limbs out. Even as I thought that my wings stretched out and gave a lazy flap. Oh. That... felt good.

The shock faded from his face, and he started to circle around my bound form, his eyes locked on my wings as they moved about. He circled around behind me and let out a low noise.

"Non, this cannot be possible. My newest pet... is a Draconian half-blood?" he murmured softly.

His voice, a sweet, seductive thing that I'd long ago learned how to ignore had taken on a dark, deadly note. I glanced over my left shoulder at him, my eyelids heavy. As weary as I felt, I recognized that tone. Even though his expression was kindly, I knew that he wasn't happy. A low laugh escaped him, a dark melody of sound. His hand reached around me to tease over my right cheek from him. I jerked and bit at his hand, but he was too fast. Fingertips dropped to tease along my neck, down the front of my body, along my right side, and then back up along my spine. His hand settled against the base of my left wing.

I hissed at him. An instinctual noise of warning. I jerked my head back around and bared my fangs at him as much as I could. Fangs that I had gained roughly around the same time as my claws. He smiled at me, a sumptuous thing meant to entice. I glared back at him. I didn't want him touching me. The desire to rip him apart grew the longer his hand stayed pressed against my wing. His fingers teased against the feathers at the base of my wings, and I growled at him. The bastard laughed.

"Lovely," he purred, leaning in close enough that his breath ghosted over my ear. "So very lovely, my sweet pet. Even more so now that you have these beautés. Sadly, I am afraid that I cannot keep you overlong, my sweet. That Clan is too highly respected for me to dare keep you for more than another decade or two. If the Eldar Council or the King learn of what has become of you, well... my life would be forfeit."

His hands closed around my wings, right at the base where they extended from my back. Sharp claws dug deep into the feathered skin and muscles. A strained snarl escaped me, and I tried to twist out of his grasp. Before I could move more than an inch, his hands jerked downward. He tore my wings from my back with a sickening noise that mimicked the sound from before. A howl of pain and shock escaped my throat, my eyes flying wide as I arched in agony. My uncontrolled screams echoed off the walls for several minutes before I finally silenced myself by sinking my own fangs into my lower lip.

My body went limp. Muffled whimpers of distress, of loss, filled the air. It hurt. Fuck, shit and damnation, but that hurt. The only thing that kept me up was the chains around my wrists. I no longer had the strength to hold myself up. Auron moved in front of me, my wings falling to the ground as he dropped them. I whined low in my throat. How could he...? Why?! A hand moving to cup my cheek, startling me and forcing me to look away from the sight of my ruined wings. He lifted my head up, and his expression was almost mournful.

"A little longer in my care, my sweet pet," he caressed my cheek gently with his thumb, "then I shall release you to the bliss that is true death."

Even through the haze of shock, I felt terror fill me.

That day was my first true lesson in torture. All other times were nothing more than a warm-up compared to the sheer torment of having my wings torn from me. Every session after that was worse than the time before.

Because my wings healed. It took weeks for me to recover, but they healed and grew back after every torture session.

Months passed. Or maybe years. I was no longer certain when it came to the passage of time. Nor did I have the strength to care. Time had no meaning to me. The only thing that mattered was pain, blood, and defiance. Auron moved me about time and time again to different rooms. I had to deal with several, sometimes outright bizarre torture sessions. He even bound me to one of the walls in his bed chambers one day so that I could watch as he ruined and broke others to his hand. He even offered me the chance to help him, promising that if I did so, then it would alleviate my own suffering.

Despite refusing his offers multiple times, I had to put up with his rather... unique... methods of seduction. He enjoyed having me bound to his bed, unwilling to let him take me. Unwilling to submit. Every time I denied him, he used small blades on my thighs, stomach, and chest. Stabbing them into me. Cutting deep enough to expose muscle and bone. Sometimes he used his claws, reaching into the wounds to caress muscle and organ alike. Up to and including literally holding my heart in his hand. Even as muffled noises of anguish escaped me, he whispered promises of release and freedom into my ear.

I knew better than to trust him, especially during those times when he was trailing his claws over my rapidly beating heart.

Lies. Everything he said was a lie. False promises to free me. Fabricated fantasies of letting me live as his obedient pet if only I would just let him bed me. It was true that I wanted the pain to end. Wanted the torture to stop. I wouldn't deny the thought that freedom was an alluring thing to dangle in front of me, but I knew better. I would die if I submitted to him, and I would not trade what little innocence I had left only to be slain the moment he was done pleasuring himself.

Oddly enough, that knowledge gave me enough strength to continue to deny him. I learned how to ignore him during such situations by allowing my mind to drift. If anything, I could just focus past the pain and let my conscious self slip away. I was... partitioning myself if you will. Really, he could be so tiresome to deal with. His continued pursuits of my body were annoying. At least he made it easy to hold fast to my personal commitment to deny him what he wanted.

Bastard might get off on hearing me scream during the times I could not hold my pained cries back, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of allowing him to take my body before killing me. Honestly, at this point, I was certain that was the only reason I was alive. He wanted to take me to break me completely before ending my life. Survival and escape became my main focus. All I needed was the chance to get out of his little palace.

During my time in his care, I had regrown and lost my wings several times over. Each time they grew back, they darkened in color. From what I could gather from Auron's cruel hints, no matter how many times a 'Draconians' wings were ripped from them, what little was left was drawn back into their body. Even if it was nothing but skin and bones, the pieces would be drawn back into the body to repair. It made the torture sessions an absolute 'joy' to wait for. Rending my wings from me became a favorite game for him. Claws, blades, cleavers, saws, and more were used to take them from me.

Sometimes he would leave a nearby source of food, a dead human, but always just out of reach. He was trying to force me to lose myself to the blood-lust. What was worse was those times he left me living 'prey' to feed on. The first time I refused to feed on such 'prey,' a woman, he'd beaten me to the point of near unconsciousness and then tortured the woman to death in front of me. If I didn't feed on my 'live prey,' killing them in the process, then he would kill them himself. Slowly.

And yet, even knowing that, I refused to follow his orders. To obey even a single order was to allow him victory over my person. My resolve wavered when he started to bring in children, little ones like the child I had come across years ago now. The little one whose mouth had been sewn shut. Still, I didn't feed. Instead, I lured my 'prey' close enough to kill them quickly and deny him both their torment and my own. Death was better than the torment they'd been put through, and I had no way to save them.

Other times he would leave me hanging without food, blood, or medical attention. My wounds would heal slowly in such a state, but they would heal. Being left alone in such a state, as if I'd been forgotten, meant that my body went cold. My mind went numb. It was like a blanket had been put over my senses. Then another, and then yet another, till all I could see and feel was cool, calm, yet comfortingly empty darkness. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'd been left to fall to the very edge of death. Only every single time, I was drawn back by the taste of copper-sweet blood on my lips. Sometimes it was old, weak blood. Sometimes it was blood that tasted of power.

All that mattered was this; Blood was food. Blood was Life. For all that I fought against him, in this state, I was nothing but instinct, and those instincts screamed for more. Each time I came back to myself, I found one of his human pets feeding me with a pitcher full of blood with him watching from a safe distance. He'd learned not to feed me directly. I'd go for his throat again otherwise.

All this effort because he wanted to keep me alive 'for just a little while longer.'

It felt like an eternity.

Oddly enough, I gained one other thing while I was trapped in that hell hole. My first Dark Gift had awakened within me. Not that I knew what to call it at first. Still, to be able to go completely invisible could be useful. Eventually. Not like I could use such a Gift while I was bound. Still, I could not be seen, not even with my own eyes. Made it rather awkward to try to figure out how to use it.

Not only that, but my first true chance at escape came roughly a week after that. With my wounds healed, fresh blood in my belly, I was at my healthiest state possible. Normally I was left half-starved and partially beaten, which made it hard to fight back, let alone focus on using my new power. He would 'make mistakes' every now and then to lure me into trying to escape, only to catch me and torment me later on. Each of my attempts were spaced further and further apart, both because I wanted him to think I was getting closer to breaking and because I needed more time to plan each subsequent escape attempt. Reviewing failures took time, after all. When he sent a single guard to check on me, to move me to another location, I almost smiled.

He still didn't know about my Gift.

Fuck, shit, and damnation, but that man was an arrogant prick. Cameras were a thing, and it was obvious that I wasn't being monitored. He wouldn't have been dumb enough to put a single guard on me if he knew. That worked in my favor. I wanted him to think I was broken. I wanted him to think I was close to giving up. Giving in. It was now or never. If I was going to escape, now was the best time.

Feigning unconsciousness was easy enough by now. The vampire guard moved to my side, and I opened my eyes just enough to see who it was. A female. Well, that was both good and bad. Un-death did nothing to tame one's baser lusts, and dealing with a horny male vampire lost to mindless desire wasn't fun. Thankfully, a solid blow to the groin deterred even a vampire. Most of the males knew better than to touch me, Auron's orders and all, but it still happened occasionally. I might have lost some of my dignity and a hell of a lot of pride, but I still had my virginity despite Auron's best efforts. Female guards, however, were usually very straight forward in moving me about. Which lead to fewer attacks of opportunity.

The female guard reached for my wrists, and I realized that I was indeed meant to be moved to yet another location. Patiently waiting for her to undo the manacles was more of a challenge than it needed to be. Still, I waited until both hands were free and then lashed out with a backhanded blow that took her by surprise. The blow was sufficient enough to spin her about and leave her stunned, giving me the time I needed to focus on my new Gift. Disappearing from sight, including to my own eyes, I moved as quickly and quietly as I could out the open door. I slammed it shut and shifted the locking mechanism in place, sealing her inside.

A part of me felt vaguely guilty. She'd be punished harshly for letting me get loose. If I managed to get free? I shook my head and turned my back to the door even as she began to bang at the steel. Shouts of fear and rage echoed behind me. Her fear was thick enough that I could smell it even through the door. I started to step away from the door, only to pause and look back over my shoulder.

I could sense her. Could sense her fear, but more importantly... her youth. My instincts fairly screamed in my head that she was a fledgling that was somewhat new to this place. She was definitely younger than I was, and I had no idea how old I was at that point. It was no wonder that I had been able to fool her so easily. Auron obviously sent her here to allow me the chance to escape, and likely try to bring her with me. He was trying to play on my sense of sympathy.

No. Save yourself first and then bring back the calvary. I didn't have the time nor the desire to risk my own hide saving someone else. Not when such efforts might doom us both. I shook my head again and started away from the door, my wings curling around my shoulders like a cloak. My hand rose and rested on my left-wing, and I knew my expression had gone dark.

I didn't want to lose them again, and I wasn't ashamed to admit that to myself. They'd been torn from me so much that they were dark, blood-red in color with only the faintest highlights of white and silver left. It was as if I had dipped them into heart-blood and permanently stained them. A small shudder ran through me at the thought of heart-blood. The heart-blood of even the foulest of humans tasted sweet. Intoxicating even. It was like comparing low-grade chocolate with the most expensive of confectionaries. It was almost too good. Too sweet.

Auron had attempted to feed me many a heart in an effort to get me addicted. And this was despite having kept my head enough to spit said blood into Auron's face or to the side. It meant that I had a very minimal addiction. Even now, I am drawn to the mere thought of tearing out the heart of my prey, of feeding upon such succulent blood. Especially Auron's heart. I shook my head, realizing that I'd come to a halt. I'd been staring ahead blindly no less. Not good. A glance at my hand showed that at least my Gift hadn't failed me.

I bit the inside of my cheek. I wanted to laugh. To cry. To let out a howl of rage, frustration, and, most of all, hunger. But I didn't. I'd give away my location if I did something that stupid. I might not have been starved just then, but I was by no means 'well fed.' I pushed onwards and took the leftmost path when I reached the main cross-section of the level I was currently on. Every other corridor on this level led to a dead-end, and I had a decent enough mental map of the place to guestimate my current location. I was roughly on the third or fourth floor of the northern tower. High up enough that there should be at least one room with a window inside it.

There was a door halfway down the hall, and I slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind me. The magic of my Gift fell away with the feeling of silk trailing over my skin. Leaning back against the wall, I let out a low sigh. I felt drained. I could hold the magic in place for a little while at a time, but I had yet to get used to the drain. I pushed away from the door and looked around the room with a critical, almost desperate eye.

A window.

And honest to god window. My breath froze in my throat as hope filled me, only for that hope to be dashed as I moved closer. What I'd thought was simply the metal lines of stained glass were actually steel bars. The damned thing was barred. Even though my strength was improved, it wasn't enough to pull steel bars apart. Not while I was half-starved, at least. I glanced wildly around the room. The room was packed full of test tubes, vials, and various items that looked old and worn down by time. Artifacts. It looked like a scientist's wet dream, save for the fact that the room looked abandoned. No one had been in here for a long time.

Rage and desperate fear took hold of me. A strangled noise of hysteria and madness escaped my lips. My wings lashed out to their full length, knocking over a dozen or more vials. I grabbed one of the larger containers of fluid and threw it blindly toward the window before grabbing up several of the old artifacts and throwing them around just as wildly. A cut opened up on my hand as I grabbed one object that had jagged edges and hissed, dropping it to the floor. The pain yanked me out of my anger-induced rage.

I didn't have time to have a hissy fit. Time was running out. I turned toward the door, only to pause when a hissing noise caught my ear. Hissing... and bubbling? I sniffed at the air, grimacing at the scent of acid. Wait! Acid?!

I spun back around, eyes darting around the room before focusing once more on the window. Hope again blossomed in my chest. The bars and stone were melting at an alarming rate. The container had a very potent acid within it. Likely the same acid that had been in the pool that I'd been dropped into during my first days here. I moved over to the window, wings pulling in close to my body. Sound in the distance caught my attention, but I kept my focus on the bars, reaching up to carefully push at the parts not covered in fluid.

I yanked my hand back with a hiss. The metal was hot to the touch. Right then. No touchy. All I could do was silently urge the acid to work faster. Pieces of metal fell away with a loud clatter of noise. There was just enough space for me to lunge forward and try to squeeze through. I was halfway out the window when there was a loud snap of noise that popped my ears. A flood of power filled the air, wild and almost otherworldly. It was almost like a small sonic boom had gone off behind me.

The force of the blast and a sudden waved of heat forced me the rest of the way through the window. The blast disoriented me enough that I couldn't tell which way was 'up' or 'done.' A forest filled my vision for a moment, followed by the sight of a castle atop a high cliff and then the blurred sight of a starry sky. It was dizzying. Nauseating. I must have knocked over something that mixed badly into some kind of explosive.

Flames caressed my body. Scorched my clothing. Heated my skin. Some of the feathers on my wings blackened and caught fire. It hurt and yet, did not. The flames enveloped me in a dangerous hug that, despite everything, felt like I was receiving a comforting hug from a wild animal. It might kill me later, but just then, it was... cuddling me. The air around me began to cool, the flames falling away from my form before finally flickering out of existence. I was still falling, dazed and confused as I saw a cliff wall, the sky, a forest in the far distance... and a city?

I should have thrown up by now. Thankfully, the shock of whatever had happened kept me steady enough that I was finally able to force my wings to spread in an effort to slow my fall. Sadly, it was rather like pulling the string of a parachute too late. I hit the ground hard enough that I passed out upon impact.

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