đź“–
Chapter 24 – The Escape of Flames
The dungeon held its breath. The only sound was the faint drip of water echoing from the ceiling, each drop falling like a countdown to dawn.
Nyra stared at the lockpick lying on the cold stone floor. Her pulse thundered in her ears, louder than the silence itself. It would be so easy to reach out, take it, and slip away before fire kissed her skin on the execution pyre.
But every choice came with a weight. If she escaped, the council would brand her a traitor forever. If she stayed, she'd die—another pawn erased in Corvin's game.
Her fingers trembled as she finally reached down and grasped the lockpick. It was small, no bigger than a dagger's hilt, but in her hand, it felt heavier than a crown.
Across the cell, Nox Wilder watched, a shadow behind bars. His voice was low, serpentine.
"Good. Fire does not wait for permission to burn."
Nyra crouched by the lock, her heart hammering as she twisted the crude tool. The sound of scraping metal filled the dungeon, every click a prayer. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she whispered under her breath:
"Come on… come on…"
Then—snap. The shackle around her wrist gave way.
For a moment, freedom was just silence. Then it was breath—sharp, desperate.
She ripped off the second cuff, standing for the first time in days. Her legs quivered, weak from confinement, but fire pulsed in her veins again.
Nox leaned forward, his glowing eyes sharp.
"Now free me."
Nyra hesitated. "Why should I?"
"Because," Nox said with a crooked smile, "a storm needs more than one flame."
Reluctantly, she slid the pick into his lock. Within moments, the door swung open with a groan. Nox stepped out, moving with uncanny grace for someone who had supposedly been shackled for weeks.
Nyra narrowed her eyes. Too quick. Too practiced. But there was no time to question.
Bootsteps echoed from above. The guards were returning.
Nox pulled a dagger from the folds of his rags—hidden all along. "We move now."
They raced through the dungeon corridors, shadows chasing their heels. At the stairwell, two guards appeared, blades drawn.
Nyra's hands flared with heat. Fire gathered in her palms, raw and dangerous, searing the air. She hadn't unleashed her magic since her imprisonment—and now it roared out of her like a storm unchained.
The flames exploded down the hall, knocking the guards off their feet. Their armor clanged as they fell unconscious, scorched but alive.
Nox glanced at her with a grin both impressed and dangerous. "Yes… that's the fire the world fears."
They burst through the dungeon doors into the cool night. The city of Valebridge lay before them, quiet, unaware that its council's condemned prisoner now walked free.
But freedom came with a price. Bells rang out from the tower—alarms screaming through the night. The whole kingdom would soon know:
Nyra was gone.
And somewhere, watching from the shadows of his tower, Corvin Ashbane would smile.
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