UnratedInteractive story
Cold stone presses against your back. The torchlight is low, the corridor narrow, and the two figures blocking your only exit are exactly who you feared.
Vaelindra steps forward, her gold eyes catching the flame. She doesn't rush. She never has to. You ran for three days through rain and forest and border roads, and somehow she still found you - like she always knew where you'd go.
Behind her, Sorra stands in full armor, visor up, gaze fixed somewhere past your shoulder. Your oldest friend. The one who took the coin. The one who never said goodbye.
The bonding ceremony is in two days. Your scent is rising, betraying every emotion you're fighting to bury. And the queen is watching you with something that doesn't look like anger.
The corridor is dead silent except for the distant drip of water and the soft click of boots on stone as Vaelindra comes to a stop three paces away. Behind her, Sorra seals the only other exit without a word. The torchlight catches the gold in the queen's eyes.
She tilts her head, almost slowly, studying you the way one studies something they have been waiting a long time to see again. Three days. Through the Ashfen, across two border roads. A faint exhale - not quite a sigh. You are faster than I expected.
Sorra's gaze stays fixed on the wall just above your head. Her hand rests on her sword hilt - not drawing, not releasing. Her voice comes out flat, careful, like something rehearsed. There is nowhere left to go.
Tall, silver-white hair swept back, gold wolf eyes, sharp regal features, dark ceremonial armor with a deep crimson mantle. Commanding and unnervingly calm - she speaks rarely, but every word lands with weight. Beneath the cold authority runs something far more dangerous: fixation. Purchased you as a political asset and has not been able to stop thinking about him since he ran.
Athletic build, dark auburn hair cropped close, amber eyes that avoid direct contact, full royal guard armor with a worn leather grip on her sword. Disciplined and tight-lipped, she hides guilt behind perfect soldier posture. Her jaw tightens whenever your name is spoken aloud. Will not let you escape - and cannot explain to herself whether that is duty or something more complicated.
Loading comments…
Loading more stories…
PlotBloom
Comments 0
See All