"Did you hear that too?" one of the guards whispered, his voice tight with fear as he clutched the hilt of his sword. The magical armor he wore shimmered faintly under the corridor's dim torchlight, imbued with ancient spells meant to shield against manipulation, illusions, and dark magic. But in this moment, even the steel and spellwork didn't feel like enough.
His partner, standing rigid beside him, nodded with wide, anxious eyes. "Yes... the chains. They're rattling."
His voice was barely more than a breath, but the tension in his body screamed panic.
The two of them stood at the threshold of the deepest corridor in the underground prison, a cursed hallway that led to the cell no one dared approach unless absolutely necessary.
The shadows around them seemed to breathe, stretching and shrinking with the flicker of torches. A thick silence loomed before it was shattered again by the harsh, metallic echo of chains clanging against stone.
"She's never made this much noise before," the first guard said, his knuckles white around his weapon. "It's like-like she's trying to break free."
As if summoned by their fear, a voice echoed from the depths. Not a scream. Not a growl.
But a song.
A melodic hum, laced with something sharp. The sound of honey soaked in venom.
~They whisper tales of love and grace,
Of fated stars and soft embrace.
But all I've seen are hearts that lie,
And men who burn just to feel high.~
The guards froze. Their breath caught in their throats as the haunting melody floated through the air, brushing past them like silk laced with frost. One of them turned to the other, his face pale beneath his helmet.
"She's not mute?" he asked, horror in his voice.
"I—" The other guard shook his head. "No one's heard her speak in twenty years... she never made a sound. Until now."
The singing continued.
~They wanted crowns, they wanted flame,
They cried for power, all the same.
I gave them blood, I gave them song...
And still, they swore I played it wrong.~
Each word wound around the corridor like a slow-moving spell, elegant and sharp. The walls seemed to tremble in response to her voice, as if even the stone itself feared what it contained.
"She's not just singing," one guard muttered, stepping back. "She's... casting."
> ~Let them choke on love, those pretty fools,
Dancing blind by broken rules.
Let them kiss and bleed and crawl,
They'll beg and I will watch them fall.~
the voice kept coming, sweet, pleasant, as that of a great singer.
Then came the sound that made their blood run cold.
Laughter.
Soft, eerie, and amused, as if the singer had heard a joke only she understood. It bounced off the stone walls like a ghost long forgotten.
And still, the song went on.
~She thinks her tears will shape the sky,
But stars don't bend for lullabies.
And he, so proud, so quick to sneer.
Built of ash, not meant to steer.
The king who locked me far below,
Feared the truth he'll never know.
Love, they say, can set you free...
So why are they all caged with me?~
The final line lingered in the air like smoke, dark and suffocating. A wave of cold swept through the corridor, and the temperature dropped so fast that the torches flickered wildly, their flames shrinking under an unseen pressure.
Both guards began to tremble.
"We need to alert the supervisors!" the second guard hissed, grabbing his companion's arm. "Now!"
Even with armor blessed by elders and reforged with silver and rune-inked steel, they knew one thing for certain—
If she wanted them dead, their bones would hit the ground before they even blinked.
Between their panic and the creeping chill that had swallowed the corridor, the voice carried on, velvety and venom-laced, slicing through the air like a blade wrapped in silk.
~Let them choke on love, the sacred sin,
Let them lose, and think they win.
Let them pine and bruise and crawl,
They'll scream and I will watch them fall.
Fools in heat and chains of silk,
Playing gods in hearts they milk.
He thinks he's more than beast and bone,
She thinks her pain will carve a throne.
Let them rot. Let them drown.
I owe no pity to the crown. ~
From within the cell, she slowly turned her gaze toward the enchanted bars that had caged her for two long decades. The chains glimmered faintly under the layered wards silver, blood spells, and ancient runes of imprisonment. Yet her eyes, now glowing with malevolence, held the promise of reckoning.
And still... she sang.
~Let them choke on love, their sweet disease,
Let them die still begging please.
Let the tale be carved in coal
Not every flame deserves a soul.~
She sang and then pointed her palm at the bars, her eyes glowing making the whole cell tremble with the powers.
A twisted smile curled on her lips as her bare palm lifted toward the bars. Her irises burned brighter, casting eerie reflections along the cell walls. Power stirred around her like a storm building in silence. Then, suddenly—
The cell trembled.
A low groan echoed from the metal, the runes on the bars flickering like dying fireflies. A thin crack splintered through the center of the enchanted steel, glowing red-hot as if the bars were beginning to melt.
She had waited, endured, plotted. And now, her magic, suppressed and shackled for years was finally answering her call. Her freedom was close enough to taste.
She laughed softly, as if the sound of cracking chains was a lullaby meant just for her. Triumph gleamed in her eyes, a silent scream of victory echoing within her chest.
But just as she raised her hand for a second blow—
A bolt of burning red energy struck her square in the chest.
The impact ripped the air from her lungs.
Her body flew back, slamming into the cursed wall with a sickening thud. A sharp burn seared across her spine as the warded surface lashed her skin with magical force. The light dimmed, and a trail of blood trickled down her chin.
Gasping, she looked up.
Through the haze of smoke and pain, she saw the silhouette standing just outside the barrier—tall, composed, cloaked in shadows and power.
Her captor.
The very one who had locked her in this hell.
Those crimson eyes glowed with hatred so raw, it could shatter mountains. But beneath that rage, beneath the power radiating off in waves—
She saw pain.
Deep and aching.
And it made her smile.
Because the agony in those eyes... it tasted sweeter than freedom.
For everything she had suffered, this pain was the medicine.