I will bury my rage in the earth. I long for that distant country where everyone lives as they wish.
*
When I opened my eyes, I felt like I had been beaten black and blue. My eyelids were heavy, glued shut by exhaustion. I forced myself up, my bare feet recoiling against the cold floor. I had to pull myself together. If I didn't, I would die in this godforsaken place.
The door slammed open, startling me. I spun around.
Pars stood there, sweat dripping down his face, his knuckles heavily bandaged.
"I thought you'd never wake up," he drawled.
"What?" I blinked, disoriented. I scanned the room for a clock, but the walls were bare. Finally, I stood fully upright. "How long have I been asleep?"
Pars watched me rub the sleep from my eyes, his gaze aggressive, almost predatory.
"I don't know..." he murmured, pretending to think. He was mocking me. "About twenty-four hours."
My heart skipped a beat. Twenty-four hours lost. The past poked at my mind, a fresh bruise. I couldn't let him see I was suffering.
"Ah..." I managed, forcing a weak smile.
His expression instantly soured. He grimaced. "Don't force a smile. You look like you're in agony."
I am already in agony, Sarehan. Do you still not see it?
"Get ready. Quickly. Training starts now. I'm waiting outside."
He turned and left without waiting for an answer. He was impenetrable—or perhaps he was so deep that I was too shallow to understand him.
I spotted a closet to the left of the bed. I didn't care about fashion; I grabbed the first set of clothes I touched, threw them on, tied my hair up in a messy bun, and stormed out.
Outside, the air was heavy. A few meters away, in the designated training area, people were sparring. Others stood in clusters, chatting.
"Reverie! Get over here!" Pars shouted from across the yard.
I walked toward him, my steps slow and hesitant. He was impatient. Before I could reach him, he closed the distance, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me against his hard chest.
His masculine scent—sweat, leather, and something darker—filled my nose. Shocked, I pushed him away, breathing deeply to calm the rising panic. I tried to hide the tremor in my hands.
Suddenly, a hand touched my shoulder, steady and warm. I looked up.
Cassian. He smiled faintly, his gray eyes offering silent support.
"Back off," Pars snapped, his voice low and dangerous.
Cassian didn't flinch, but his eyes hardened as they met Pars's. The tension was palpable.
"You know she belongs to me, brother," Pars spat. "Go support someone else."
She belongs to me.
The words clamped around my throat. I ignored the order in his eyes, slowly pushed Cassian's hand off my shoulder, and stepped toward Pars.
He looked satisfied. A cruel smirk tugged at his lips.
"You'll meet someone else today." He nodded toward a blonde girl standing nearby. I hadn't even noticed her. "We have a big mission coming up. We train together. All of us."
"Mission? What are we going to do?"
Pars reached out, stroking my head like I was a pet. "You don't need to know. Just follow my orders, Alenas."
I jerked my head away, anger flaring. He didn't care. He looked past me, addressing the blonde.
"Madison! Help Reverie with her training. Don't let her slack off."
Madison smiled—a sharp, predatory thing—and nodded. My stomach twisted. I felt the urge to vomit. Was this flirting? Was he pitting us against each other? Sarehan was just like every other man. I wasn't surprised.
I thought the training might be simple. Madison positioned me for sparring, and we started to warm up. But within ten minutes, I realized Madison had no intention of "helping" me. She was there to break me.
Hours later, I collapsed, panting, my lungs burning.
Madison stood over me, laughing. "I think you are the weakest Weapon I've ever seen."
Her chuckle echoed in my ears. Others were watching now, an audience to my humiliation. My hands began to tingle with suppressed energy. I shook my head, whispering to myself.
No. It won't happen again. People like her will always exist. Control your anger.
I tried to stand up.
Suddenly, a heavy boot crushed my hand into the dirt. Madison pressed down, pinning me.
"Stay down," she sneered.
My blood boiled. I looked at the boot grinding my fingers into the gravel.
"Do you want to die?" The voice didn't sound like mine. It was a growl rising from the depths of my throat.
She laughed again.
I looked around. Everyone was watching. Pars was watching. They were entertained.
That's enough fun.
I turned my head to Madison. With my free hand, I pressed my palm flat against the ground. I didn't aim for her face; I aimed for her pride.
I pushed white energy directly into the sole of her expensive boot.
Crack.
Madison shrieked, yanking her foot back in shock as the force threw her off balance. She hit the ground hard, clutching her foot, tears instantly springing to her eyes.
Chaos erupted. Everyone rushed to her. Even Pars.
Fear spiked in my chest. I scrambled backward, scrambled to my feet, and ran.
I sprinted toward the wooded area, tearing through the brush. Branches scratched my arms, leaving stinging red welts, but I didn't stop. I ran until my lungs screamed, until the sounds of the camp faded.
Ten minutes later, I collapsed in front of a small, stagnant pond. Thirst clawed at my throat. I dipped my cupped hands into the water, bringing it to my face, drinking greedily.
"Who are you?"
A sniffle came from behind me. I froze.
Slowly, I turned around.
A boy stood there, emerging from the trees. He was rubbing his eyes. He looked normal, except... I could see the bark of the trees through his chest. He was transparent.
A spirit.
I frowned, turning back to the pond to hide my shock. "You shouldn't talk to strangers, kid."
I could feel him stepping closer.
"Then..." he whispered, his voice echoing like wind in a cavern. "How will I ever know anyone?"
A small hand touched my shoulder.
It shouldn't have been possible. He was a ghost. Yet, the moment his hand—warm and impossibly soft—made contact, a shockwave hit me.
My step-family. The torture. The darkness. My past sliced through the wound in my heart, bleeding into him.
I shoved his hand away. "Don't touch me!"
He had power. He shouldn't have done that. A child couldn't bear the weight of my pain.
"You..." His voice trembled. Tears streamed down his translucent face. "You are her."
He was sobbing now, a heartbreaking sound.
"The one who swallows the darkness," he wept. "The vessel of pain."
"What?" I whispered, dipping a trembling fingertip into the water. "What are you talking about?"
Suddenly, he lunged forward, wrapping his small, warm arms around my waist.
"Hey..." I stiffened. "I told you not to touch me."
"I am so sorry," he sobbed into my back. "I... You... How did you endure so much? Tell me, big sister... Does it still hurt?"
My throat tightened.
"No," I lied. "So, don't cry."
He pulled away abruptly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He looked around wildly, his eyes wide with fear.
"They're coming," he whispered. "They're coming to hurt you."
He turned and ran, his little feet making no sound on the leaves, vanishing into the deeper woods.