Gael plunged his sword into her chest with the expert movements of a trained soldier.
Lizzie slit her own throat.
Her father snapped her mother's neck.
It was a nightmarish cycle of unending death. Each time she succumbed to the excruciating pain, she awoke to a fresh nightmare.
With every jolt of consciousness, relentless torture awaited her. Her body bore the scars of relentless abuse, concealed beneath layers of grime and dirt.
Whenever she awoke, all the wounds were healed and ready for the next session. On one occasion, she caught a fleeting glimpse of a doctor entering her cell just before she blacked out.
The torment knew no bounds. While she had endured physical suffering before, the psychological trauma now overwhelmed her to no end.
Mani's wails prolonged day in and day night. The guards stood there without any emotion, unfazed by the screams. Mani could only wonder how many times they have heard the sounds of agonizing screams.
The screams eventually faded, as Mani sought refuge from the harsh reality, her body no longer her own. It wasn't effective as he did not allow her many breaks. She had lost the will to scream, staying silent most of the time as Zeran relentlessly mutilated her repeatedly.
His sick sense of pleasure was derived from her pain. He had brought in a jar of spiders and allowed them to crawl all over her open wounds. 'Ironic' was how he put it.
"Spiders are pretty creatures, aren't they? Usually, they would fear people, but I bought these little guys especially for you, sweetheart. Don't you think they match your mark?"
To add on to the irony, he had brought in a burner and a metal rod. He chatted away while the rod was heated to its melting point. The stench of burnt flesh flooded Mani's nose as he slowly dragged the rod over her thighs.
"It's alright, my sweetheart. You smell absolutely delicious, I could just eat you up. Just relax and enjoy me."
He wasn't the only one to do this to Mani, Elanor came in a few times, and she was almost as sadistic as he was. She would take control of the reins whenever Zeran was tired. He left for periods of time, giving Elanor the chance to continue the torture.
They were dead set on never giving Mani a break.
***
Aerendil's POV
"Aerendil! Look here. Isn't this adorable?" Freya asked, pointing to an intricately carved oak parrot.
Aerendil nodded, picking the statue up to examine it. "It is."
"Well... Are you going to get it? I mean... I would really like it," Freya said, snatching the statue out of his hand then waving it in his face.
Now that he had unknowingly agreed to go on 'dates' with Freya, she was getting bolder with him.
"Oh, do you want it?" Aerendil asked, his hand moving to fish out his coin purse.
"Yes," Freya confirmed, eagerly peering inside his coin purse. "You're so nice, Aerendil."
He chuckled and paid for the statue. The vendor thanked them for their patronage, bidding farewell as they moved on to the next stall.
Freya had been dragging Aerendil around for the majority of their time. Aerendil had tried to invite the others, but Freya would always find an excuse to not invite them.
It was nice that a festival was right around the corner, so they had more to do. Aerendil didn't really find it odd. Freya hadn't seen him in ages so it's only natural for friends to catch up, right? They spent the rest of the day tasting every Fejuhn delicacy they could find. They browsed all the snacks and merchandise they could find.
The first step to redemption had been taken, it's time for him to fix his relationships with the people he cared about. Freya was a good start; he will visit the others when he had the time.
Four more days had passed since they arrived to Fejuhn and Freya thought it was the right time; she dragged him to the pier, pulling him down so that he sat with her.
This was it.
"I... have something to tell you, Aerendil." Freya began, glancing away, her cheeks flushed with heat.
"Oh? Go ahead."
Freya took a deep breath, her gaze locking onto his. "We've been... spending a lot of time together, right? What does this mean to you?"
Aerendil's eyebrows knitted together as he blinked at her a few times. "Pardon?"
Clearing her throat, Freya continued, "I mean, what do I mean to you?"
Aerendil took a moment to ponder her question before replying, "You're a good friend. Thank you for spending time with me these couple of days. I enjoyed myself."
"Oh," Freya mumbled, looking off to the side again. "Don't you think we could be more than that?"
Aerendil raised an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing. "What?"
"You know, as in... more than friends. I really like you and I really really think we'll be a good couple! You're handsome and I am equally as pretty," Freya blurted out, taking his hand, and squeezing gently.
Aerendil was left momentarily speechless, as the realization slowly dawned on him.
Wait, she wasn't just doing this as a nice gesture to congratulate me?
Freya took notice of his hesitation; she bit her lower lip in anticipation. "What I'm saying is... I really like you and I know you like me too. You did agree to hang out with me these past few days."
"I..." Aerendil trailed off, rubbing his jaw with his knuckles as he searched for the right words. "Freya... I don't know... I can't really see myself in a relationship right now. I'm sorry but I can only view you as a good friend of mine, perhaps even a younger sister."
Freya frowned; her brows furrowed. She shook her head, unwilling to listen. "What...? But you agreed to go on all these dates!"
Pulling his hand away from her grasp, Aerendil shook his head apologetically. "I didn't intend to mislead you. I had only assumed these outings were some sort of congratulation gesture or something of the sort. I did not know you considered them as dates, it's completely my fault for not making it clear."
Staring at him with disbelief, Freya's mouth hung open. "N–No way. No, just give me a chance, Aerendil. I swear, I swear I can make you happy."
"I'm sorry," Aerendil said, filled with remorse. "You're a wonderful woman, but I cannot commit to a relationship, Freya. I do not wish to hurt you when I inevitably mess up."
Freya couldn't accept his words, her desperation evident. "No... Please, Aerendil. If you would just give me a chance. I'm better than any girl you'll ever meet, I promise you! I won't constantly vie for your attention. I know you're trying to fix your life but please let me help you."
"Freya..." Aerendil muttered, his words falling on deaf ears. "Apologies, I should leave."
"N–NO!" Freya's outburst startled Aerendil. She grasped his hand firmly, her eyes searching his. "You're not going anywhere! You will give me a chance. I'm not asking this time."
"I can't," Aerendil said, gently removing her hand and standing up. "I'm leaving. We can talk when you've had a chance to calm down."
Aerendil gave her no chance to argue as he walked away. Freya leapt out of her seat, attempting to follow. "Aerendil!"
Aerendil walked away before Freya could argue further, leaving her behind. Regret tugged at his heart; he had unintentionally led her on. He was going to have to apologize more thoroughly when she calmed down, maybe he could make it up to her.
When he arrived at the inn, he was surprised to see Elanor standing at the entryway. Her arms were crossed as she stared absentmindedly at the inn's door. Her hand rested on her chin; visibly lost in thought.
"Elanor? What are you doing here? Is your work done?" Aerendil asked as he approached. His voice showed no signs of what transpired earlier. Elanor perked up at the sound of his voice.
She lit up, turning to him. "Aeren! You're here. My work isn't done. I actually came because I need your help."
Aerendil raised an eyebrow, curious about her request. "My help?"
"Yes, do this and I can almost guarantee our reputation will be saved," Elanor said with a sly smile, resting a hand on his arm.
Aerendil's interest was piqued, and he asked, "Is this about father?"
Elanor snickered and answered, "Something of the sort."
"Tell me."
***
Mani's POV
Five long days had passed since she got to Fejuhn; Mani was still in the cell. Blood smeared the floor and walls. It was everywhere.
When Zeran took a break, Elanor stepped in.
Mani had lost her voice some time ago, reduced to a silent, desolate stare at the ground. Despite her lack of reaction, the tormentors showed no mercy.
"How much longer?" Mani croaked hoarsely, her eyes reflected the hopelessness she felt.
Elanor crouched before her; her sadism matched that of Zeran's. "How long until you break?" she murmured, garnering no response from Mani. "We can't trade you while you're still sane. That would put us at a disadvantage."
Mani raised her eyes to meet Elanor's gaze. "Fuck you. I'll kill you all."
Elanor chuckled heartily. She grinned wide, plunging her pliers into Mani's thigh. She squeezed the handles together, getting a good grip of Mani's flesh.
Mani winced—letting out a painful hiss—as she clenched her jaw.
"You can certainly try," Elanor mocked.
She twisted the pliers, causing Mani's eyes to widen. Her jaw dropped but no scream came.
"This is taking longer than I expected. I thought your mind would have broken right about now. Is Zeran going too easy on you?" Elanor continued to taunt her, "those nightmares he gives you. Mind telling me about them?"
Mani's shoulders rose and fell as she struggled to breathe through the excruciating pain. "Fuck you."
"Is that a no?" Elanor asked, frowning as she withdrew the pliers from Mani's thigh. "Oh well, I can hear about them from Zeran himself."
With a sadistic thrust, she jammed the pliers into Mani's stomach, gripping the flesh there. Elanor observed Mani's reaction as she slowly twisted the pliers.
Mani shut her eyes, gritting her teeth. She growled, her eyes rolling back as she collapsed once again. For once since this started, she got a moment of rest. Presumably because Elanor had gone looking for Zeran so he could make her miserable again.
It was such a brief moment of idyllic bliss in her current situation. In this moment, there were no dreams or nightmares, only a void, an escape from her anguish and obligations, filled with her unwavering hatred for the elves.
It was just her, alone.
"Tell me... How much... longer?"
"HOW MUCH LONGER?"
"ESTES?!"