Isil never knew who he was, and she never wanted to. He was a large man, who always seemed to wear a malicious grin. She met him in the corridor, when no one else was around. The conversation itself was a blur, but she quickly realized he was not like her cellmates or the card players. He threw her up against a wall and began to strip her. She tried to scream, but he shoved his hand over her mouth.

She started crying as the man dragged his tongue against her body. She desperately tried to resist, attempting to claw the man’s eyes or wrists. He grabbed her hands and threw her down, hand caressing her bottom as he laughed lasciviously. Somehow, she freed one of her hands as he began to pull down his pants. She stabbed a finger into his eye, which caused him to reel back and scream, releasing his grip on her.

She scrambled away, feet tripping over each other. She began to run, as far and as fast as she could. The man was quick to recover, and managed to grab her and throw her into the ground. She became dazed, and couldn’t quite think straight, but when her head was finally raised up from the ground, she saw some blood staining the floor. The man shouted obscenities, flipping her over as painfully as he could make it, eliciting a pained exclamation from her.

“An eye for an eye, bitch.” She could clearly remember him say as he withdrew a dagger from his pocket.

Isil felt her heart grow cold, and she struggled harder, screaming to the point where her lungs would burst, but the man grabbed her by the mouth, picked her head up, and slammed it back into the ground. She felt her vision double as her brain was jostled in her skull. Her limbs felt like heavy leaves and her head was strangely wet. The man made sure to show her the dagger in full as he stabbed it lightly into her forehead.

It didn’t stab deeply enough to kill her, or even touch her brain, but it hurt like hell. Her mind went into overdrive as she desperately attempted to move her spaghetti-like limbs. The best she could manage was a light hold on his arms. The man enjoyed her torment as he dragged the knife down past her eyebrow, purposefully waiting before her moved towards her left eye.

She begged him in every possible way she could, but he only smiled as he dragged the knife into her eye with a sickening squelch. The pain shook through her entire body. Her already labored breathing simply stopped as every cell in her body was left in speechless agony. He continued dragging the knife, out of her eye and down to the end of her nose.

He finally removed the knife, as well as his grip on her body. Isil didn’t have the strength to flail around. She weakly covered her eye with her hands, weak, breathless, noises of pain leaving her mouth at random intervals. Unfazed by her excruciating suffering, he dropped his pants again, lust burning in his eyes. She couldn’t clearly understand what was going on, but she could almost feel what the man was going to do.

She knew what he was going to do, and rolled over, using her free hand to drag herself away. She felt him grab her by the leg as she desperately resisted. She used what little strength she had left to kick him, aiming for his face, but hitting his inside of his elbow instead. She fell to the ground and he released her again. She began crawling away again, despair already setting in.

Past the pounding of her own heart, she heard something. The man also seemed to hear it, as he did not pick her back up again. She kept crawling as the sound grew louder. They were words, though she didn’t know what they meant. She lifted her head, trying to call out to the blurry figure that was closing in on her. A heavy foot stamped on her back from behind, knocking the breath out of her lungs.

The force of the foot was strong, and she felt as if her bones were breaking under the pressure. She couldn’t move, so she reached out for the figure with both hands, finally taking her hand off her left eye.

“Help…” Isil eked out with the last of her strength, then fell quiet as she lapsed into unconsciousness.

-_-_-

Isil woke up strange. She knew she was on the prison bed, but it felt like she was back home in Sebel. Though the senses were muted, as if trying to feel it through a layer of fabric, she could feel a hand on hers. It was familiar, like when her mother had held her hand to help her sleep when she was still afraid of the dark. She gripped it lightly, not having enough strength to hold it tightly.

“Mitomae (Mother)…?” Isil asked, not sure whether it was a dream or reality.

“...” She didn’t get a response, but another hand joined the one she was holding to make a hand sandwich.

“Omae (Mom)...” Isil muttered, not caring whether it was a dream.

“I’m here Isil, I’m here.” The voice spoke, trying to sound strong through tears.

“Li sovvu tesa, omae (I missed you, mom)…” Isil spoke, her throat protesting with every word. It didn’t matter to her, she had to speak to her mother. “Biai lias gospa, Li nefuru dlie ji tesa. Biai lias solu gospa (It’s my fault, I didn’t mean to kill you. It’s all my fault.)” He voice couldn’t continue as she descended into a coughing fit.

“I’m here, I’m here,” The voice comforted her again. “You’re safe, you’re going to be alright.”

“Ty usse (I’m sorry)...” Isil sobbed.

“It’s alright, everything’s going to be okay.” A head pressed against her chest, whispering gentle words to her.

Isil cried, unable to move to hug who was speaking to her. Her body refused to follow her commands, and the effort that she did put it quickly left her exhausted and tired. Her eyelids were heavy, and they began to pull her back into sleep. She wasn’t sure how she could sleep in a dream, but she succumbed to the lure all the same.

Stolen story; please report.

-_-_-

Her entire body felt like it had been dropped from the branches of the World Tree, then thrown into the Gajall River and fished out with a net, then rolled down a mountain. Everything was in pain, but her left eye and back were the most prominent sources. Her memory of the incident came back to her blurred and broken. She brought her heavy hand up to eye and, surprisingly, felt the rough fabric of bandage.

“Isil?” Someone spoke to her. “How are you feeling?”

Isil turned her head to face the speaker. A concerned Kellia knelt down next to her and grasped her hand. Isil, still dazed and disoriented, couldn’t quite make out her face, but she could recognize her voice.

“Kellia?” Isil’s voice barely came out.

“Yes, it’s me.” The hand grasped her tighter.

“Why are you all blurry…?”

The hand holding hers trembled, and Kellia didn’t answer. Isil waited a moment, hoping Kellia would answer. She didn’t.

“Kellia, why aren’t you answering…?” Isil asked, worried.

“… I’m sorry...” Kellia murmured weakly.

Isil reached out and grabbed what she assumed was Kellia’s shoulder. She shook her as hard as she could, which barely moved her.

“Kellia, please, tell me what happened to me.”

Isil heard Kellia begin to sob quietly. She continued shaking her, begging her for answers, but eventually exhausted her strength and couldn’t shake her anymore. She simply lay there, waiting for Kellia to say something. She never did. Eventually Natiya came in and switched out for Kellia. She told Isil what happened.

“Natiya, please...” Isil begged, grasping Natiya’s hands tightly.

“You don’t need to ask, I’ll tell you.” Natiya sounded sorrowful as she spoke. “Kellia already killed the person who did this to you, but…”

“Please, don’t stop. I need to hear this.” Isil asked.

“Your back has been broken in several places, and… Your skull is also apparently cracked, but not as seriously as your back. You also… you also won’t see out of your left eye or walk ever again.

Isil felt as though her entire being trembled at the news. Her grip weakened on Natiya’s hands and fell. Natiya picked them up and brought them close to her body as she began crying as well. Isil’s hearing seemed to fade out, as the sobs became echoed and distant. She couldn’t feel her body. Memories flashed in her head, and she began to realize just how grave her injuries were. She wouldn’t last a day outside of prison…

“I'll be fine, I can heal myself a little.” Isil said, her meager knowledge on healing magic coming back to her.

“Huh…?” Natiya was dumbfounded.

“A-are you serious?” Kellia’s choked voice came from further away.

“Did I never tell you?” Isil was confounded.

“No.” Natiya sniffed and answered.

“Well, they aren’t anything too powerful. I’ll probably still be partially blind in my eye, and I’ll have back pain for the rest of my life, but I should be able to walk again.” Isil laughed lightly.

“D-do you need any help with it, or…?” Kellia came closer and asked.

“No, I don’t think so. Just, give me a minute.” Isil put a hand against her eye and concentrated, pulling on her meager mana reserves.

“Dovas semtsik, viteari (Wounds begone, heal).” Isil chanted, focusing solely on her eye and the wound that went across it.

Isil’s had thankfully not been removed from its socket, so she could use her magic to begin weaving it back together. As the other, non-eye parts of the wound would be fine without immediate attention, she didn’t heal them yet. The pupils and iris had been fused back together, and she was just getting started on the inner workings of the eye when a sudden weakness overtook her. Her hand lost its strength and fell limply onto the bed while her chest constricted her breathing.

“Isil?” Kellia asked, moving closer.

“Fine…” Isil heaved, finding it tough to breath. “Just… weak… mana… exhaus… tion...”

“Are you going to be alright?” Natiya asked.

“Yes, yes… I’ll… I’ll be alright… Just going to… sleep… a… bit...” Isil comforted them, her words slurring as she drifted into unconsciousness.

-_-_-

Isil repeated this for many days and weeks. When she was finally able to take off the bandage on her eye, she noticed her vision better than she had assumed it would be. Of course, she saw better while closing her left eye, but it wasn’t so disorienting that she was unable to function without closing it. Next, she had to work on her back. During the time she was focusing on her eye, she did no healing on her back, mostly just trying to prevent it from getting worse.

Her back took her nearly three months, three times the time it took for her eye. When she started to walk again after the first month and a half, she needed to use Randy’s cane to go anywhere. Since Randy himself needed it as well, she opted to simply stay on the bed unless she needed to get up. When she was finally able to walk some distance without assistance, Natiya had urged her to leave the cell. Isil staunchly refused.

Eventually, her refusal to leave managed to get on the nerves of Kellia, who, nearly a year after the near-rape incident, opted to drag her out instead of coaxing her. While Isil didn’t blame her for wanting to get her out, she couldn’t agree with her methods. Especially since they caused her to have a complete breakdown. The moment she left the bars, she had instantly curled into a ball and started screaming and crying.

There wasn’t any specific memory or image that came to mind, but rather a feeling. It was oppressive and consuming. Her heart was in physical pain, like it was being pressed in from all directions. Her thoughts wouldn’t act right, and she felt like she was at the mercy of him again. Logic and rational thinking couldn’t intervene as she hyperventilated. Kellia eventually relented and brought her back inside the cell. She apologized when Isil had finally regained control of herself.

Isil found herself tormented by nightmares after that day. While she had been subjected to them before, after the incident, they didn’t have the same frequency and intensity as these ones had. Kellia blamed herself, but Isil didn’t. She understood very well that Kellia had just allowed her to see her own fears more clearly. Although it was painful, identifying the problem was always the first step to solving it.

-_-_-

She never solved the problem before she left. She wanted to stay and, at the same time, wanted more than anything to leave. She had made some friends outside of her cellmates during her time there, though they never stopped by often. She was surprised to admit that she had quite enjoyed the company there. Of course, her trauma had also come from there, and she knew that he wasn’t the only one of his type there. She said her goodbyes and was escorted out. She didn’t have a single copper to her name, so she was left to roam the streets for jobs. She wasn’t a very popular candidate. Former prisoners never were.

Eventually, she picked up a job at a tavern in Cevren. She had learned how to play the lute from a traveling minstrel that had visited Torra while she was in the province capitol. It wasn’t anything professional, but he was a good teacher and she was a good student. Her time in the tavern wasn’t like her time in prison, but, for the most part, she was left alone. The tavern manager often skimped out on her wages, and many of the male customers (even a couple female customers) didn’t hide their lust for her.

It was only through luck that she avoided sexual contact with them, but she wasn’t expecting that to last long. Eventually, the tavern manager…

“MAGE-BITCH, GET OUT HER-” A shouting voice called out to her, but was interrupted by, from the sound of it, a fist.

“I swear to god I’m going to beat politeness into you if you don’t shape up right now!” Another voice loudly proclaimed.

Christ, that scared me, Isil thought, putting a hand on her chest as she regained control of her breathing. She stood up and brushed the dirt and leaves from her legs and back. She wriggled her fingers and rolled her neck, making sure that none of her joints had stiffened while she was reliving her… no her past.

“… God that’s fucked,” Isil mumbled to herself. “Leaving me on a cliffhanger like that...”