It started with the sound of dripping water.
Slow. Relentless. One drop after another.
Verona had lost count of how many times she'd heard it. Maybe a hundred. Maybe a thousand. Each drop echoed through the round stone walls like the ticking of a clock that refused to move forward.
She sat curled on the cold floor, knees drawn to her chest, eyes half-open. A shallow wooden bowl rested beside her, the only kindness the guards left behind. Half-spilled. The water was muddy, lukewarm, and tasted like rust.
Her throat burned when she swallowed.
"So this is what I've become," she muttered, voice hoarse. "A caged beast, not even worth a full bowl."
She laughed once, short, bitter, almost hysterical, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The laugh bounced back at her, small and lonely.
It was hard to tell how long she'd been in this tower. There were no windows, no light except what leaked faintly through the cracks between the stones. The air felt old, thick with dust and something heavier, despair, maybe. Or magic.
Magic that wasn't hers.
The tower had been built to suppress those born with the gift. The old ones used to say it fed on power like a starving leech, sucking it away until nothing was left but bones and silence.
Her father had chosen this place for a reason.
He wanted her quiet. Obedient. Helpless.
"Fine," Verona whispered, pushing herself up, palms scraping the gritty floor. "If he wants me weak, I'll show him what weakness looks like when it fights back."
Her legs trembled as she stood, but her eyes burned,that faint gold hue that used to shimmer whenever she touched the flow of her power. She pressed both hands against the wall. It was smooth, unyielding stone, but beneath it, she could feel something. The faint hum of the earth, buried, buried deep.
"Come on," she murmured. "You used to listen to me once."
Nothing.
She closed her eyes, tried again, harder this time. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. The memory of the woman, Iora, that luminous being who had appeared in her execution, flashed behind her eyes like a dream half-remembered. Iora.
"Was that real?" she whispered. "Or am I going mad?"
But even madness would be better than this silence.
She inhaled, deep and shaky, and reached further inward. The first time she had tried, it felt like hitting a locked door. This time, something cracked, a small, sharp sting behind her ribs, as if her soul had flinched awake.
And then it came.
A tremor beneath her fingertips. Subtle at first, then growing. The floor quivered, dust fell from the ceiling, and a low rumble filled the air. Verona stumbled back, heart racing.
Her power, the one she had doubted even existed, surged like a breath she had been holding her entire life.
The earth answered.
She threw her arm forward, more instinct than thought, and the door exploded off its hinges. The blast threw a wave of dirt and splinters across the corridor outside. The guards shouted, startled, confused.
"What the-?! It is her doing?"
Verona stepped through the haze of dust, her bare feet leaving faint trails of blood from where the stone had bitten into her skin. Her hair clung to her face, and her eyes glowed faintly, fierce and fevered.
"Stay back!" one of the guards barked, spear trembling in his grip.
She didn't stop.
The ground pulsed beneath her like a living thing. A flick of her wrist sent the man crashing into the wall, not dead, but unconscious before he hit the floor. Another guard lunged at her, but a sharp gust of wind burst outward, knocking him away like a rag doll.
The tower shuddered.
"Enough," Verona whispered, voice breaking. "I'm getting out."
She ran, the echo of her footsteps blending with the deep growl of crumbling stone. The staircase twisted upward like a serpent, and with each step, her strength flickered, alive one moment, fading the next. The magic of the tower fought back, trying to drag her down again, to snuff her out.
Her breath hitched. She reached the upper landing, stumbled against the wall, palms slick with sweat. Her head spun.
"Not now… please not now…"
But the light in her veins dimmed. When she reached for the earth again, it felt hollow, cold, and empty.
She bit down on her lip hard enough to taste iron and forced herself forward. Somewhere outside these cursed walls was Elric or at least she prayed he still was. If he'd left, if her father had done something to him...
She didn't let herself finish the thought.
Two more guards appeared at the end of the hall, armor clanking, eyes wide.
"Get her!" one shouted.
Verona raised her hands, tried to summon the wind again, but it came sluggish, weak. The blast barely pushed them back. She ran, gasping, lungs screaming for air.
The tower's exit loomed ahead, a narrow wooden door barred with metal. She shoved her shoulder against it, once, twice, until it gave way. The world outside hit her like a rush of freedom, the scent of trees, the cold bite of night air, the faint shimmer of the forest beyond.
Her legs carried her on instinct. Bare feet over dirt, grass, roots. The forest blurred past her as she ran, half-blind with exhaustion. Her hair whipped behind her like a trail of gold threads in the moonlight.
"Stop her!" voices shouted behind her.
She didn't stop.
The pounding of boots grew louder. One of them caught up, grabbing her wrist. Without thinking, she twisted and sank her teeth into his arm. The man howled and let go. She stumbled free, heart hammering, breath ragged.
Keep moving.
Branches tore at her dress, left scratches along her arms. Her vision swayed, doubled, then cleared again. She could feel the tower's suppression still clinging to her, a heavy fog inside her chest.
"Just… a little more," she whispered. "I need to reach him."
The guards' shouts grew closer. She could hear the hounds now, their snarls sharp and cruel. Panic clawed its way up her throat, and something inside her cracked open.
Flames.
They came suddenly, like a surprise. Fire burst from her hands, wild and bright, licking at the air before she even realized what she'd done. The guards stumbled back, shouting curses, shielding their faces.
The heat was overwhelming. It roared around her like a living beast, reflecting her fear, her rage, her desperate will to live.
And then silence.
The fire died as quickly as it had come, leaving behind blackened branches and a sharp tang of smoke. Verona stared at her hands, trembling. The power had vanished again, leaving her empty and cold.
She staggered forward, nearly falling. Her knees gave out just as the trees opened to reveal the edge of the main house, the grand estate that never once felt like a home for her.
She managed one more step before her legs refused to move.
Her vision blurred, darkened at the edges. She could hear footsteps approaching, heavier this time, slower. Not the quick, disciplined rhythm of guards.
Her breath hitched. "No… please, not him…"
The figure drew closer. She tried to crawl, but her limbs felt like lead. The shadow knelt before her, blocking the light.
"Get away-" she began, voice breaking.
A hand tilted her chin up softly.
Her heart stopped.
"Elric…?"
He was real. His eyes, that beautiful purple she could never mistake, widened as he took in her face, her bloodied hands, the faint glow still fading from her skin.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them held its breath.
Then the wind stirred, carrying the scent of smoke and earth between them.
Verona's lips parted, as if to say his name again, but the words caught in her throat. Her body trembled, exhaustion finally winning over will.
Elric's hand lingered against her cheek, fingers brushing away the dirt. His expression was filled with shock, fear, and something deeper that she couldn't name.
And as the forest fell quiet once more, their eyes met, a single thought flickered between them like a spark refusing to die.
You're alive.