Darkness surrounds me, stone walls pressing in from all sides. The only thing disrupting the silence is my breathing. Like the cave. I don’t want to close my eyes. A little girl used to wait that cave, watching the light cast its stark shadows. I balance the tip of a training knife on my finger.

For my last day I wanted to be outside: To feel the wind, to see the stars, to make it ours not theirs. But when I looked up all I saw is mother. The sky is dangerous she had said. And so, I fled.

Heavy footsteps approach. The door of the training chambre is pushed open. With one flick of my wrist, I impale the knife into its wood.

“I assume that means you wanna be left alone”, Enya says.

“Yes”

“Guess that’s not surprising. I’ll be gone soon, I promise.”

I don’t respond.

“There’s something I wanna tell you. In case this is the last time we see each other.”

“Getting sentimental?”

“Maybe. Can I sit?”

I shrug.

He hunkers down. The floor is cold.

“I admire you”, he says.

I turn.

“I grew up hearing stories of wildlings. A lot of em. Each one was different, but they all ended the same: The wildling burned fast and bright, first everything around them and in the end themselves.

I got down here, met Mykiel and knew I’d see another version of the same story. We all knew, even the master: So half a year later he bought you. Do you remember the first thing you did?”

“No”

“Sit down in a corner and draw your knees up to the chin. But what stuck with me the most was your expression; it was totally blank. No anger, no curiosity, not even fear. They told Mykiel you’d be his responsibility, and he flipped. Like he did so often. We were terrified each time, but you’d just make yourself small, take the punches and mechanically continue doing what he’d told you to. Honestly, I though the master had been scammed.”

“Uplifting memories.”

“Guess not.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“So why tell them?”

“Because Aary was the same. But she didn’t make it past the first fight. There was a difference between you and her. Even then.”

“Yes. I am a wildling”

“Yeah. And that doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“You’ve got the same rage bubbling in you as Mykel had. As Kara has.”

“Good to know”

“I’m not stupid. I know you’re deliberately suppressing it. I heard you teach Kara. Well tried to.”

I chuckle. “How is the body?”

“Acting tough.”

“Good.”

“I guess.”

The draft from the open door makes the candle flames burn bright. Wax is running down the side and dripping into puddles on the floor. It looks like they’re bleeding. At this pace the servants will have to replace them tomorrow.

Theres a long silence before Enya says: “Look. I know Mykel killed himself with that rage. But… maybe burning fast and bright is the only option left”

“Are you done being helpful?”

“I’m not helpful. Not if you don’t let me.”

I don’t reply.

“You listened when I told you about the mines. I didn’t think it would help, but it. I’m offering you the same. And, if you’re right, spilling your guts doesn’t matter after tomorrow anyways.”

I look down. More wax splatters on the floor.

“Maybe you’re right”, I say after a long pause, “There was rage. I remember it burning me. But… now I just feel hollow. I ran into Aisha at the gala. Well, she ran into me. And I froze.”

“That’s a first”

“No. It is not. Aisha called me a ragdoll and she is right: I might as well be a pile of muscle memories for the masters to have their occasional fun with.”

There’s a look of genuine unease on his face: “The Njra I know isn’t”

“Of course not. Down here I am the most powerful”

“How humble”

“Am I wrong?”

“No”

“I…You once told me you’ll fight to survive. For every last second of it”

“I cannot win. Denial is not going to change it”

“Maybe you can’t. Maybe you can. But at least try. You owe your mother that much”

“You are a manipulative asshole”

“If it’s for the greater good”

“Interesting definition of greater good”

“Everyone deserves being helped.” Do they?

I shrug.

The training chambre is swallowed up by silence. Enya gets up.

“Enya?” I say.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you”