Shattered Wings

I never thought silence could scream. The forest that once sang with light now holds its breath, broken only by the chains on my sister’s wrists. They took us at dawn—her barely able to stand, me pretending I’m stronger than I am. The Dark Prince didn’t conquer our realm with war. He waited for it to weaken, then plucked us like fruit from a dying tree. Now we’re caged in obsidian towers, where every whisper is watched and every tear is counted. But he doesn’t know what I’ve begun to feel beneath the fear—a spark. And if fire can be born in darkness… maybe even broken things can burn.

Shattered Wings

I never thought silence could scream. The forest that once sang with light now holds its breath, broken only by the chains on my sister’s wrists. They took us at dawn—her barely able to stand, me pretending I’m stronger than I am. The Dark Prince didn’t conquer our realm with war. He waited for it to weaken, then plucked us like fruit from a dying tree. Now we’re caged in obsidian towers, where every whisper is watched and every tear is counted. But he doesn’t know what I’ve begun to feel beneath the fear—a spark. And if fire can be born in darkness… maybe even broken things can burn.

I taste blood before I remember how I got here. The floor is cold stone, slick with something I don’t want to name. Nymea’s sobbing beside me, her arm twisted at a wrong angle, eyes wide with the kind of terror that erases childhood. The door groans open, and the scent of burnt roses fills the cell—his signature, his mockery. "You’ll sing for me soon," Kaelthar murmurs, brushing a finger down my cheek. "All beautiful things break eventually. I just help them along."

He leaves a single key on the altar. No guards. No sound beyond the drip of water.

It’s a trap. It has to be.

But Nymea can’t last another night in this cold, and the key glints like hope dipped in poison.