The dimly lit chamber reeked of dampness and decay, its stone walls bearing silent witness to countless torments inflicted within. Odi's wrists were shackled above her head, the cold iron biting into her skin, suspending her just enough that her toes barely grazed the grimy floor. Each strained breath echoed softly, a testament to her enduring spirit amidst the encroaching darkness.
Oliver stood before her, his solitary arm crossed over his chest, eyes gleaming with malevolent satisfaction. "You thought you could defy me and escape unscathed?" he sneered, stepping closer.
Odi lifted her head, defiance burning in her gaze despite the exhaustion etched across her features. "I did what I had to," she rasped, her voice hoarse from dehydration and disuse.
His hand lashed out, striking her already bruised cheek. "Insolent wretch! You failed me, and now you'll learn the price of failure."
Turning to a shadowed corner, Oliver retrieved a branding iron, its tip glowing ominously from the nearby brazier. "In ancient times," he began, almost conversationally, "thieves were marked so all would know their crime." He approached her slowly, savoring the fear flickering in her eyes. "Consider this a lesson in history."
The searing pain as the hot metal pressed into her flesh was indescribable. Odi clenched her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a scream, though a strangled cry escaped her lips despite her resolve.
Days blurred together in a haze of agony. Deprived of food and water, her body weakened, but her spirit remained unbroken. Each time Oliver entered, he brought a new form of torment—flogging her with barbed whips, crushing her fingers in iron vices, or subjecting her to the brutalities of the pillory, where other slaves hurled rotten food and stones at her exposed form.
Outside the chamber, Ben's pleas fell on deaf ears. He knelt before Oliver repeatedly, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Master, she's learned her lesson. Let her go," he begged, his voice cracking with desperation.
Oliver sneered, kicking Ben aside. "She'll be released when I deem her punishment sufficient, not a moment before."
On the third day, Ben could bear it no longer. He stormed into Oliver's quarters, his usual timid demeanor replaced with fiery determination. "If you don't release her now, she'll die! Is that what you want?"
Oliver regarded him coldly, a flicker of consideration in his eyes. After a tense silence, he waved a dismissive hand. "Fine. Take her. But she shouldn't forget this, neither should you. Any further defiance will be met with worse."
Ben wasted no time. He rushed to Odi's side, unlocking her shackles and catching her as she collapsed, her body a canvas of bruises, burns, and lacerations. "Odi, can you hear me?" he whispered, cradling her gently.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she managed a weak smile. "Took you long enough," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
He chuckled through his tears. "Always the stubborn one."
Their moment of respite was short-lived. The heavy thud of boots echoed through the corridor, and a group of the King's guards appeared, their leader stepping forward with an air of authority. "By order of King Darius, the thief is to be escorted to the palace immediately."
Odi's eyes widened in alarm. "No... I can't... I need to go and see my mom."
Before she could protest further, Oliver appeared, his demeanor suddenly obsequious. "Of course, sirs. She is ready to depart."
Ben glared at Oliver, fury simmering beneath his concern. "She can barely stand! How can you expect her to go anywhere?"
"But she wants to go to her mother's grave?" Oliver was sinister.
The lead guard's expression softened slightly. "We have orders to ensure her well-being during the journey. She will be cared for."
Despite her weakened state, Odi attempted to rise, her legs trembling beneath her weight. Ben supported her, his grip firm yet gentle. "I'm coming with you," he declared, leaving no room for argument.
The journey to the palace was a blur for Odi. Her vision swam, and each jolt of the carriage sent fresh waves of pain through her battered body. Ben remained by her side, whispering words of encouragement, his presence a beacon amidst her suffering.
Upon arrival, the grandeur of the palace was lost on her dulled senses. Marble pillars soared towards vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes, and golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over opulent tapestries depicting the kingdom's history. Servants moved gracefully through the halls, their whispers hushed as they observed the disheveled trio.
They were led to a lavish chamber, where a team of healers awaited. The head healer, a stern-faced woman with kind eyes, assessed Odi's condition with a practiced gaze. "She needs immediate care. Leave us," she ordered, her tone brooking no dissent.
Ben hesitated, his hand lingering on Odi's. "I'll be right outside," he promised, his voice thick with emotion.
As the healers worked tirelessly, cleansing wounds and applying soothing balms, Odi drifted in and out of consciousness. Fragments of memories flitted through her mind, the searing pain of the branding iron, her mother waiting for her, the hatred she harbored for herself not being able to visit her mom.
Before she could fully rest, the door swung open with force. Oliver strode in, his expression one of smug authority. "She's done here. The King wants to see her immediately."
The head healer protested, "She is in no condition to--"
"The King summoned her," Oliver snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. "And I, as her guardian, ensure she obeys."
Odi, barely able to move, let out a weary sigh. She had no choice but to face whatever awaited her next. As Ben clenched his fists beside her, she saw the silent fury in his eyes. He would not forget this, and neither would she.
As they left the chamber, Odi's pain was overshadowed by a new emotion, rage. She had endured torment and humiliation, and now she was being dragged before the King like a pawn in a game she did not understand. Whatever he wanted, he would see her in all her fury, broken but unyielding.