Maya's heavy eyelids cracked open. The blur of words trudged past her ears, light pulled past the slits. She sealed them shut, feeling the hardened gravel underneath her. A stinging sensation bursted through her side. She jolted awake, her back straight. Her breathing came out ragged, her nose reeling from past burns of pain.
She adjusted to her surroundings, feeling the heat of the sun's rays on her face. A hand snaked under her arm, she was pulled up against her decision. The familiar seating of the lyceum flooded through her sight, the familiar gold impaling her with a dagger of anger.
She closed her lips slightly, feeling the layers on them. Her chest racked with pain, forcing her lips back open.
"Can you walk?" A voice asked, jolting her from her thoughts. The boy from before steadied her, his hand still clamped on her tunic. An overload of headaches coursed through her. Shafts of memories and nightmares banged behind their binds, searing with the painful reminder of their presence.
"You disgust me as a noble." Lord Darwyn said, turning to the brown skinned boy. His tall frame almost reached his, about three heads taller than Maya's. Maya looked at Lord Darwyn through stormy eyes, fighting off the turmoil within her.
"Guards, you know what to do." Two guards with stony expressions walked past them, their hands on the whips. The boy held Maya by her arm, following after them. She breathed through her swollen lips, pale and cracked. Their hollow footsteps called after them as they walked into the dim arched hallway which led out of the lyceum.
"Are the matches over?" Maya's hoarse voice resurfaced, tired all of a sudden. Headaches ricocheted through the corridor, grasping her with nefarious talons.
"Yeah we completed the last match a few minutes ago." The guards turned back at intervals, checking if the defectors were still trailing after them. The dim sunlight lessened the tremors in her head. Their now clad feet bared down on the gravelly path. The click clack reminding her of her footsteps against the cobblestone back home.
She sat cross-legged, her heart in her mouth. The thrum of despair wove into a tapestry of singeing darkness. The dark throb coursed through her. The crowd parted, the whispers shooting through her.
"She did it again!"
"What type of child is she?"
"Mother, will she attack me too?'"
"At least Dean is lucky."
They whispers battled against each other, forming a cacaphony of chaos. She withdrew herself against the wall, her heart running miles per second. Her gaze swept to the floor, the uneven cobble stone hinting that she was deeper down the isle.
The little trickles of blood painted her fists. Her breathing hitched, her anger reduced to tiny ashes. It slumbered once again. In its stead, floods of guilt vaulted through her. It was just two punches, she consoled. Her hands dug into her hair, raking through them.
Her world spun. The dark drenched her, casting her between worlds. Dark rings encircled her sight. The creaks of dangerous emotions fired darts through her well being. Two punches she remembered, gritting her teeth. She hadn't lost herself to her anger. It hadn't controlled her -fully.
Peace lulled, replaced by unease. Her hands prickled, tears unwillingly coming to her eyes. She had sucombed to her anger's call. Mother would be so disappointed. Her bloodied hands were ingrained into her fickle memory, reminding her of every assault. Father wouldn't hear of this, she breathed in and out. Her eyes glistened as she strangled a cry.
"She causes nothing but grief."
"If I were her parents I would kill her in her sleep."
"She isn't worth a breath from mother nature."
"Looking at her makes me wanna puke."
"I- The king!" The chatter hushed, a tensed silence taking her ears. The click clack of his sandals rippled through her mind. Her chest raked with fear, each breath coming out faster. Her lips trembled awaiting her punishment as her father pulled up. She could feel his hard gaze. She didn't have to look up to aware of the skies of dark hatred in his pupils.
Click clack, his sandals rang once again before he grabbed her by the hair.
She jolted out of it, her head bent. Sweat pooled down her sides.
Now, back in the physical, she found herself sprawled on the floor. Her ears rung. Her sides shrieked from pain, throbbing loudly. She hissed, pulling herself off the floor. A boot plunged down her head, her face crashed against the gravel.
Her face slammed against it, shock waves passing up. A loud crack emanated. She felt her face burning, the squelching of blood veering down their source. She soared beyond unconscious, her hands flailed as darkness hovered her. The tunnel like vision spun, around and around. The grazes of needle like sensations crawled over her.
A hand snaked up her arm again, hoisting her up. She felt numbness seep through her, out of sync with her body. She moved about, stumbling, barely grasping onto reality. A hand steadied her as she moved forward. Her eyes shifted, soaking the rays of sunlight.
"Move it!" A gruff voice called, grating against her nerves. Dots of black rimmed her vision still, the world being viewed from a body that wasn't hers. She struggled, keeping herself from naughts of unconscious. Sharp prickles of pain sharpened her senses with every passing second.
She soon regained her sight fully, viewing the boy from before that had draped her arm over his neck. She withdrew from his hold, almost falling over.
"I don't need your help." Maya gritted out, though barely keeping her balance. The onslaught of pain from her broken nose blared within her.
"Are you okay?" He ignored her comment as he looked at her through thick lashes. Maya felt her body tense despite the stagger with which she walked.
"Nothing you should care about." He raised a brow.
"I am just acting out of concern. Don't blame me." He held his hands up, Maya now noticed the deep North Eastern accent that underlined his words. A thick scratchiness that found its way in every letter.
"You sure? Your nose is....."
"Messed up? I've felt worse." Her body still staggered, pushing past the sadness that gathered within her. The sound of boots and puffs of breath she took covered the blanket of darkness.
"What happens in detention?" He raised an eyebrow.
"You don't know?"
"Would I ask the likes of talking to you, it I knew?" She bit back, her eyes narrowed.
"You make my mami seem calm. But anyone who's going through the gates-"
"I don't care! Just answer the question."
"Back in my isle, a few nobles believe that grumpiness brings bad luck-" he cut himself off with the look on Maya's face. He sighed.
"There are three levels of
punishments. The lowest level is the penalty which usually consists of them locking you up in your room with some warnings for about a day. The second level is the comeuppance, you get to do the servants job also for a day." He continued, glancing at Maya.
"The third is detention. It's usually supposed to be for major offences of maybe undue assault and the likes. But as the board proceeding this is so corrupt, it's now usually booked for peasants and very low class nobles for simple mistakes." His face looked grave, watching through hollow eyes.
"In detention, you're kept in the stockade underground, between the servant and guard quarters. The stockade wards keep you locked up with no food or water in one of the stockade cabins-"
"What of the gall racks?"
"I'm getting to that, fauna." Maya scrunched up her face. Pain ripped through it so she dropped her expressions. He spoke through her moment of hesitation,
"The gall racks. They were used during the War of Kings to torture prisoners they captured, you remember them right?" She nodded.
"I mean none of us have killed-"
Things fell apart. The guise of calm she had exuded got knocked away. Her breathing spiralled as she clawed past her corridor. Dark and damp, filled with a treachery of stories. She dragged herself, fighting off the poignant waves of nausea.
Her body thrummed, aches pushing through her heart. Inky red smudged the floor, falling into step with her footsteps in a tit tat sound. Her eyes barely registered the room she'd turned into. All she could see was red. The threads of reality were covered, smudged by the sticky stain.
Her body shook, grief overtaking her. She fell to the floor, the grime between her fingers overwhelming. The dark throbs pulled through her, the anger still awake watched his companions woes. Like a leech, he had sucked her life force and left her.
The pummels resurfaced replaying from dark crevices. Every scream. Every shout. Her body racked, her lungs wheezing. The copper of blood continued to shout to her, pecking at her defenses. I will be with you, in life and death. The world spun.
The darkened skies mirrored her expression. Why couldn't she be like the other girls whose biggest sin was stealing some pie? Tears rushed down her face, painting her skin in a mirage of colors. Her vision blurred. Everything spun, around and around. All she wanted was a blank slate. A new beginning.
Breaths left past her lips in ragged gasps. The world distorted, tilting with her sanity. She had almost killed him. Her breaths came out faster. He had had almost no pulse. Her cries reverberated through her. Another item on her resume of evil, a boy almost getting killed.
Her feelings grew around her, she didn't deserve to live. She walked up to the bed stand, stumbling and struggling through waves of disorientation. She didn't have to stay here. She was beyond it. The dim lighting caught the metallic glint.
She took it in her hand, her thumb burning. Drops of fresh blood dropped onto the floor. She shook away the nausea, her body still wavering. No one would miss her, she consoled. A dark element that would be eliminated by light. This was the best way. She plunged the knife into her wrist, testing the waters.
A scream ripped through her, blood smudged the floor. She pressed deeper, the chinking of bones and muscles. Every push through the pain, her vision blurred. Her eyes stung, her body wobbled. She pushed harder before ripping the knife out.
Muscles with thick blood dropped to the floor. The splash pattered on her face, her hand throbbed. The world around her turned, everything dimming. She took the knife, through bleary eyes she made sure it pointed at her chest. She was ridding the world, her isle of her.
Her parents would finally be happy, her father would finally be at peace. The isle will finally be rid of her. Her uninjured hand trembled, self preservation fighting against her will. She fought away the weakness to embrace the dark clutches of death.
It inched closer and closer, her heart beating louder and louder. Maybe the supreme leader could take her to paradise. With resolute, she plunged it downwards. Something hit it, veering away from its past. As if in slow motion, her bleary eyes caught on its course to her shoulder.
In the midst of it she saw her mother's terrified eyes, the world dimmed around her. The knife sunk into her shoulder, sending her to the the floor. The world faded, flickering like a wilting torch.
"Why?" She could hear her mother's pained whisper, the other words not registering in her brain. The light flickered once more, the darkness pulling her into his arms.
She jolted out it, gasping for air. Her hair stuck to her cheeks, light threading back into her eyes. The world shimmered, bringing her senses back with a pull. She staggered around, her eyes still adjusting to the environment.
Near the grey walls of the guards quarters, a thick hatch was in the middle of the outcrop of grass.
"You zone out alot?" The boy's voice snapped her out of her reverie. Maya fought the waves of nausea flowing through her. Her limbs shook as they neared the hatch, grass being crunched underneath their shoes. The only day in life she had attempted suicide.
Desi. His name left a foul taste of regret. He was one of the few that almost died in her hands. Her heart gasped at the turmoil of guilt.
"-we? Are you listening?" Maya didn't have the heart to turn. Her gaze implanted fully on the journey ahead. Bitterness sped down her throat, reminding her of the woman's mistake. If she had just left her to die that evening, her fists clenched. The world around darkened to nothingness, she would hardly be here.
"Open up the hatch." A guard rushed to open the hatch, Maya noticed the dark staircase that led downwards. Following close behind the boy, they walked down. The smell of soil and earth flew past their nostrils. Overhead torches casted shadows around.
The damp smell of blood and decay made her skin crawl. They soon reached a large hall, torches placed into tiny brackets. Screams ripped past their ears, gritting at their nerves. Maya took in a shallow breath as she saw a couple of cells they passed. Most were empty but some were occupied by battered men and women. Blood clawed past their metallic bars, drenching Maya's nostrils.
One of the women turned to her, her blue eyes danced with haunting shadows. Her lips were busted, her cheeks sallow. She whispered something but soon stopped on seeing the guards.
"Isn't this supposed to be an inn?" Another scream fingered past as they turned the corner.
"It's supposed to. But you could say, here, defaulting servants and peasants aren't taken lightly." Maya couldn't help the waves of unease, her eyes sliding past the dark walls. A couple of places were smeared with blood, the coppery scent weighing heavily on her shoulders.
"Vojtech." Maya turned to the boy.
"What?"
"My name. It's Vojtech."
"I never asked."
"I just wanted to fill the silence. You look uneasy." He pointed out. Chills ran down her spine. The surrounding reminded her too much of the back room of the king's house. The dark walls, the smudges of blood. The scuff marks that raced against the smooth oak floor.
They soon entered into a large hall. The brownish walls had layers of grey stones. The air around was congested, the screaming and shouting at its peak. A huge circle structure rose up, a man laid on it, his hands and legs bound in large heavy iron chains. The chains were attached to poles erected at four corners of the circle. The circle spun on a mechanism from side to side, slightly making the chains jangle.
Every time the man shifted, spikes at the edge drew against his skin. A couple of people clad in black watched the man in distaste. The stockade wards. Similar structures, four in total, filled the hall. Someone pushed her down. She caught herself, her hands on the earthen floor.
"Get in there!"
I want to thank God for giving me the Grace to write this. So, how was it? If you like, vote and comment.