Caleb
The world throbbed. Each pulse resonated in the dull ache that had become the constant companion of my bones. Darkness pressed in from all sides, an unwelcome shroud mirroring the hollowness that had taken root within me. A cough wracked my body, a dry rasp that scraped against my raw throat.
The King's fury had been a tangible thing, a storm that had threatened to consume everything in its path. The memory of tackling him, a desperate gamble to buy my friends precious seconds, flickered in the recesses of my mind. I recalled the flicker of defiance in the guards' eyes, a spark quickly extinguished by the King's icy command to seize me.
Then, a blur. Days, or perhaps weeks, bled together in a monotonous cycle of pain, hunger, and soul-crushing isolation. Beatings, a gnawing emptiness in my stomach, and relentless questioning, all designed to break me, to tear the secrets from my tightly guarded lips. But there were no secrets to reveal. Just the memory of a desperate gamble and the faint, flickering hope that they had made it.
Elyse. Her name echoed in the silent chambers of my mind, a lifeline in this suffocating darkness. The memory of her determined gaze as she ripped open the portal, the worried glance she'd cast at me before shoving them through, was a bittersweet comfort. No words were needed; her plea resonated loud and clear: save yourself.
A hollow laugh escaped my lips, a ragged sound swallowed by the oppressive silence. Save myself. A cruel twist of fate indeed. I was a traitor now, branded with the vilest mark one could receive in this wretched kingdom. The loyalty I harbored for the rebellion, a secret dream nurtured in stolen moments under the cloak of night, was now a damning sin. My friends, my purpose – all ripped away in a heartbeat.
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The damp stone pressed against my throbbing back for hours, days. Each ragged breath echoed in the oppressive silence. A single, choked sob escaped my lips. Betrayal tasted like ash in my mouth.
They wouldn't be coming for me. Elyse wouldn't risk the others for a turncoat. Kira, my heart ached at the thought – her unwavering faith in me, shattered. The memory of her touch, a fleeting warmth in the cold reality of my betrayal, sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over me.
Marcus, the man whose laughter used to fill me with courage, would see me as a stain on the rebellion's honor. Even Finn wouldn't waste a single spark on a traitor.
Isaac would be heartbroken. His gentle hands, so skilled at healing physical wounds, wouldn't be able to mend the gaping hole I'd torn in our bond. The trust in his calm eyes would be replaced with a flicker of disappointment, a sorrow that would cut deeper than any knife.
Kass, the fierce warrior whose loyalty ran as deep as the mountains themselves, already saw me as a coward. The respect in her unwavering gaze was replaced with a cold fury, a simmering anger that mirrored the fire of her sword. The bond we had forged had been shattered, leaving behind a desolate wasteland of disillusionment.
And Erin would be filled with a despair that mirrored my own. The trust she'd placed in me, the belief that I was worthy of her loyalty, had crumbled to ash. The warmth of her smile, a beacon of hope in the darkest times, would be extinguished, leaving behind a chilling emptiness.
They'd mourn, perhaps, the friend they thought they knew, but then they'd move on. The rebellion needed them. They couldn't afford the burden of a broken comrade.
A single tear traced a cold path down my cheek. In this darkness, a strange sense of peace settled over me. There were no more choices to make, no escape route to plot. I would rot here, forgotten, another nameless face in the King's hidden dungeons. A fate I welcomed with a grim acceptance. Perhaps, in the embrace of death, I could finally find redemption.
END OF BOOK ONE