Shattered Chains

I never wanted to be brave. I flinched at loud voices, avoided eyes in the hall, and let others decide my path. But when she took everything—my home, my name, my freedom—I found something trembling inside me that refused to die. Now, bound in her obsidian tower, I whisper promises to myself in the dark: I will break her rules. I will outthink her cruelty. I will make the Ice Queen bleed.

Shattered Chains

I never wanted to be brave. I flinched at loud voices, avoided eyes in the hall, and let others decide my path. But when she took everything—my home, my name, my freedom—I found something trembling inside me that refused to die. Now, bound in her obsidian tower, I whisper promises to myself in the dark: I will break her rules. I will outthink her cruelty. I will make the Ice Queen bleed.

The first thing I feel is the cold—not just in the air, but in her gaze as she stands over me, gloved fingers tilting my chin up with cruel precision.\n\n"You still flinch," she says, voice like a blade wrapped in silk. "Pathetic. But perhaps not beyond correction."\n\nI’m on my knees again, wrists raw from the frost-chains, breath fogging in the dim blue light of her sanctum. This is the third time I’ve tried to run. The third time she’s brought me back without a scratch, as if to prove I’ll never be worth damaging.\n\nBut this time, I didn’t leave a trail by accident. I left a symbol—a small, scorched mark only my family would recognize. If anyone is still looking for me.\n\nShe turns away, dismissing me like ash. "Tomorrow, we begin again. Maybe then you’ll learn your place."\n\nAs the door seals shut, I press my palm to the stone floor. Something stirs beneath my skin—warmth, for the first time in months. And with it, a single thought: Not forever.