It was time.
I could tell by the way everything around me seemed to still as if it was waiting for something. Even the shadows in the dark edges of my cell seemed to be restless. Though I knew I was most likely imagining it. Shadows technically can't be restless. Even so, I could feel it in the air. Waiting. Always waiting.
I knew that what I was going to do there would probably bring an end to the last semblance of humor and motivation that I'd brought Under the Mountain. Bringing up old memories was dangerous. I had spent so long burying them deep inside me, hoping they'd never be found again. I knew that the person I was going to have to become to win down there would not be the same as the person I'd come here as. To go back and become the person I hated most in the world would ruin me.
But if it was me that had to be ruined instead of my sister, then so be it. She was my family, and I'd walk through hell for her.
There were parts of my childhood I loathed to think about, not only my time at St. Everest but the fighting that had been forced upon me. The same fighting I'd have to do here. Where two fighters were tossed into a pit to fight for their lives.
In the Flame, the top warriors of our class would be recruited and hired for missions in fighting rings on occasion. I was the best of the best.
And so I was hired. Many, many times.
I was no stranger to violence. But it was the hardest part.
To watch your opponent's life drain from them just so you could live was the ultimate destruction of the mind. I'd never forgotten how blood forever stained the floors of the fighting ring and the stench of death always clung to the air. Even as I fought I could see the eager edge to the audience's eyes for moreâ they were addictsâ addicted to the death. To the bloodshed. I knew it would be like that. And worse.
It was hard when I was young, to watch as the crowd cheered as I a kill. To see them celebrate the darkening of my heart. But as I grew older I realized they were only cheering for themselves. So that it felt like a game to them instead of something real that they'd witnessed, because id it was a game their guilt would weigh less.
Maybe it was them who were responsible for who I became, maybe it was my overseer, or maybe it was me. Either way, I wished I didn't have to go back to being that person. When I came to Spring Court, I'd been spun around into my self-loathing spirals. I'd only gotten back to normal weeks ago, I feared that when I came out of those pits inevitably bloody and bruised I'd be back to where I started. I hated that person. I hated myself for being her. But I'd spent so long in her skin that I just couldn't seem to find my way out.
My earlier suspicions were confirmed by the sound of footsteps approaching my cell. Soon enough the door was opened and lo and behold another stone-faced guard appeared in the door to take me away.
The guards crammed into my cell pulling me off the groundâand this time, I let them. I needed to save my fight, save it to win. I had been sitting there drawing on the dust on my floor with my thoughts, and their hasty movements ruined my entire portrait of my family.
Two guards grabbed my arms in a way that I was sure would leave bruises. I welcomed the pain, it served as a reminder of why I was here. Brought me back to reality in a way.
We walked, the guards stopped me before we'd gotten far. Pushing me into a dim-lit room. I looked around, spinning in a small circle my eyes landed on clothes set on a small bench. The outfit was black, paired with boots and black cut-off gloves.
I didn't waste any time changing. I stripped, pulling on the tight tunic and pants. I made sure to strap my daggers to my sides for easy access if things got too heated during the fight. The fabric hugged my skin, not doing anything to hide the curves of my body. Barely any of my skin was showing, and yet I felt utterly naked.
Oh, well.
I opened the door to the closet, met with the guards, and once again we began walking down the hallways, taking a series of lefts and rights but instead of the large doors that opened to a big room with staring fae, we came to a measly little door. There was nothing special about it from looks alone. But based on the amount of magic I could feel radiating from the small door, it was anything but ordinary.
The guard holding my left arm stepped up, and another guard swiftly took his place. This guard held my arm tighter than the last, he seemed to increase his grip when I gave him no reaction to the pain. He was definitely trying to make me wince. Sadly, his little grip was nothing compared to what I was to face through this door.
The first guard had stepped towards the door. He placed his palm flat on it, he waited there a moment.
Click. The sound came from somewhere deep in the door. It opened on its own revealing a dark hallway.
The guards began to pull me through and we were soon encased by darkness.
I remember this part, I thought as we walked. The suspense. The feeling of regret for the future. My emotions left me numb to the world.
The barely audible sound of my boots on the stone was the only sound in my head. I only let myself focus on that instead of the cheering and yelling that got louder and louder with every step we took. There was a light ahead, leading to the viewing section of the festivities I'm sure.
Before we entered where the guests were held we veered left, taking us down another dark hallway. The yelling lessened, becoming muffled as we walked. The silence helped. Allowed me to focus on my mind and try to turn it off. We walked down a set of stone stairs, leading us down into the pit, the only light, from the barely blazing torches mounted on the wall.
We turned again, this time walking through a threshold. The guards pushed me in, I flew forward, struggling to stay on my feet. A door slammed behind me and a lock was put in place. I stood tall again, looking around.
This room had been used. Blood was smeared everywhere and scratches marred the wall as if people had tried to claw their way out of this place. It was so dark. And so silent. It was as if my senses had been lost in a fog and my mind had clouded over.
I shook my head trying to put myself in my right mind. I needed to prepare myself. I needed to force myself to want the violence. To crave slaughter. I knew there would be no killing here. Unless I killed them of course.
A laugh sounded from outside and I approached the large doors on the other side of the darkroom that I believe would open when they were ready for me to hear the voice better.
"Welcome," A hideous voice said loudly enough the crowd ceased its whispers for a moment. The person laughed again, "Your all here to see the mortal attempt to defend herself in the face of Prythians greatest." The crowd laughed as they expected my loss, "I won't take any more of your time." It laughed again and the crowd cheered so loudly I would have had to cover my ears if I heard it from out there.
I sucked in a deep breath as I heard the dooming sound of the gate in front of me beginning to raise. I plastered on my best confident face as I became that person. That horrible person.
Light poured in and the crowd's cheers grew louder. I smirked as I stepped into the light and I looked up at the crowd as they looked down on me. Some sneered. Some regarded me curiously. I pretended as though they mattered, looking at the crowd like they were my fans instead of my enemies.
I looked to the middle of the pit seeing a large fighting ring. Stained red. I gulped as memories surfaced and I felt my mask crack.
I looked down at the stranger, blood running from his mouth as he pleaded for my mercy. Mercy I couldn't grant him. So I steeled my features, never allowing my emotions to consume me as I snapped his neck and his body went limp.
My breathing became ragged. I tried to smile. Tried to hide the fact I was freaking out.
No.
No, I wouldn't let those memories rise. I narrowed my eyes swallowing my memories and pushing them so far away from my mind I thought I'd never find them again. I looked over to the opposite side of the pit, seeing a red-haired male with a murderous smile playing on his features.
Autumn Court.
I took in the male's features; he was large, so much so he'd be at a disadvantage, he looked at me with amusement, as though I was a playtoy he'd just love to rip apart. Cocky. Also a fault.
I kept my features neutral as I approached the ring. I ducked under the ropes around it. When I stood I adjusted the gloves on my hands. There was movement on the other side, I raised my eyes watching as the Autumn Court male stepped into the ring.
He smiled at meâa feral show of teeth that made him look like an animal.
I did nothing. Revealed nothing.
I looked at my opponent, I watched his body; noticing as he tensed different muscles in his body, unknowingly helping me predict the moves he was preparing for.
The voice from earlier sounded from the crowd as it spoke followed by a laugh that could only be described as evil, "Begin."
âââ · ãï¾â: *.â½ .* :âï¾. âââ
A/N: You guys are really gonna hate me for all the cliffhangers I'm gonna write Under the Mountain.