19 | Surrender (II)

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WARNING: Depiction of violence is evident in the following scenes that may be upsetting for other viewers. Reader discretion is advised.

 Reader discretion is advised

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Xanthy shivered on the floor. Her own blood coated the wood and filled her nose with its thick, rusty scent. Pain racked her whole body as cuts as wide as a finger marred her back and her legs. It was cold. The dark provided suffocating company. Even in the silence, Xanthy could hear the crack of the whip. She heard her cries of pain and of help.

No one would save you now. The voice belonging to no one played again and again in her head. Xanthy whimpered as another crack resounded in the quiet room. Voices crowded inside her mind, most of it belonged to the Heiress and the Sovereign, forcing her to divulge the Virtakios to their influence.

Xanthy's answer had been the same throughout. No.

Crack. Scream. No!

Xanthy's eyes opened as a cough racked her whole body. She hacked, hoping her lungs would come out of her chest and she would die. At least, this way, she's keeping everything safe.

Every time she wanted to give up and every time she wanted to just give the Heiress and the Sovereign what they wanted, she thought of her friends' faces, their memories together, and what their lives could be. They kept her going. They kept her saying no every time the whip found its home on her flesh.

It was only a few hours and she was already so close to agreeing to the Heiress and the Sovereign's plans. She didn't know how long she could hold out when it's so painful. Everything hurts...

When she closed her eyes, the faces of her friends plagued her mind. What would happen if she failed here and now? The images the Arbotro showed her in the Realm of the Lost resurfaced. It tightened her chest further. No. She had to stay strong.

Why...was it so hard?

She wanted to sleep but the cold drove the drowsiness off her system. There wasn't even a draft of wind and this was still the same burning hell, so why was it this cold? She shivered again. She couldn't do this...

June...

Xanthy shook her head to clear it from any thoughts about him. The Sovereign and the Heiress might use him as leverage for her if she let her relationship with him show. It helped somehow that she made it look like she betrayed them so everyone at Penleth were angry at her. She sighed it's all good.

The door cracked open once more, jolting her awake. When had she slept? The Heiress strode into the room. Her boots thumped against the wooden floor in light but purposeful steps. The Sovereign followed. They both waved their hands and three-legged stools materialized from nowhere.

"So," the Heiress propped herself down into her stool. The Sovereign did the same. "Here we are again."

Xanthy pushed herself up despite the lightness gripping her temples. Her wounds from yesterday still stung. "Beizhen Liros," she rasped through the taste of iron in her tongue.

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