There was never true silence in the Dark Lord’s Castle. Always the faint whispers, the hum of Dark power emanating through the walls, floors, and down to the roots. The cries and laughter of Daemonifers echoing down the stone halls.

  It was even worse in the torture chambers, and Aria had been on her best behavior for many years to avoid such a fate again. Yet, she had been an idiot. She had forgone any and all sense to save a Boy and an Old Man and she would pay the price.

  Her wrists were chained high above her head, her legs held down by massive, iron weights. She did not cry, but avoided staring the Dark Lord in the eyes when he entered the damp, and cold cell.

  “That was a mission of loyalty,” he announced. “You failed.”

  She said nothing, wanting to laugh but knowing better. That she should be loyal to the man who had ripped her from her home was a funny thing, yet he had also treated her with far more kindness than expected, and that stalled her tongue.

  “I’ve raised you, clothed you, fed you… Trained you.” His words became increasingly angered, his tone lowering, “You repaid me by killing one of my children in favor of Amor’s. An insult that cannot go unpunished.” He stepped forward, and she flinched as his cold hands touched her chin, turning her head to face him.

  “We have two years left together. Two years before my vision for the world can come to fruition. I’ve shown you great trust and more love than you could ever imagine, and you’ve gone and thrown it in my face.”

  The grief and fury mixing together within his gaze made her tremble with fear. She may have once been the prophetic child, but he was a fallen Holy Knight; a Godly being with an infinite well of power.

  “You will not betray me again.” The back of his hand whipped across her face, and the stinging pain took her breath away.

  “Karlock has been eager to use his talents on you,” he said softly. “I protected you from his spite, but no longer.”

  He turned his back on her, leaving the room without another word. The oxygen flowed back into the cell, and she took a deep breath. Karlock would bring more pain, but the presence of the Night Lord was overbearing when he was angered.

  Was it worth it?

  She’d find out soon, as the sound of heavy footsteps announced the coming of her Torturer.

  Karlock’s large frame barely fit through the door, and he had to step inside sideways, his horns scratching the ceiling of her cell.

  “You’d think,” she softly began, “If he cared so much for his ‘children’, he’d build around your comfort.”

  Karlock snorted. “Gorathim-sized cells are not needed, for Gorathim are loyal.”

  “Pea-Nog was certainly a good boy,” she agreed.

  Karlock leaned down, his stinky, hot breath making her turn away from him. His large, clawed hand grabbed by the cheeks, pinching hard enough to draw blood from her skin as he looked down. “Your Gorathim pet has faced his punishment. Too young to know different. You, however, were born from the blood of the Light. You will never be one of us, and I will dance on your guts when my Lord finally lets me pull you apart limb by limb.”

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  “I don’t think that’s in the prophecy,” she quipped, but the fear of what was to come had already settled, and she had no further smart words for him as he flexed his claws in front of her face.

  “I’d prefer you never speak again, but since that is not an option, I will make you scream until your voice gives out.” His laugh was deep and filled with sick joy.

  Aria steeled herself, fighting the jittery feeling crawling under her skin.

  I made the right choice. I made the right choice.

  He started with a single claw, dragging it along her forearm, its razor-sharp edge eliciting a hiss of pain from her as blood pooled out in a line. The wound began to heal immediately. She wasn’t easy to kill, even if Karlock were allowed to try. Fast healing would not take away the pain, however.

  His speed picked up, more and more long cuts followed by a hitch in her breath at the electric pain. The blood began to drip onto the stone floor with a patting sound, and she bit down on her cheeks.

  The wounds began to burn, even after they healed, and her teeth ground deeply into each other, the fire under her skin making her vision blur.

  His next targets were her nerves, pressing the tip of his claw into a point on her shoulder that almost drew out a cry, and eventually did as he pressed harder and harder.

  He laughed with delight. “Sing, Princess! Let Amor hear your praise of him!”

  Soon his claws moved in and out of different points, as if he were playing a game. Different amounts of pressure, different levels of pain as she cried out.

  It continued until her throat was raw, and he laughed manically as he switched to clawing up her arms, shoulders, and torso.

  Her mouth would open to cry out, but nothing was there but the sensation of suffocating, and all she could think was how badly she wished for it to end.

  Amor… Please help me.

  How pathetic she had become, begging for help once again that would never come.

  She didn’t recall when the pain had faded, or when Karlock had left. Her vision was unfocused, her eyes heavy. Her skin felt so hot she desired to crawl out of it, and memories of her childhood in the Lightlands filtered through her mind.

  Mother. Father. Thom.

  She couldn’t even recall their faces. What a terrible daughter, a terrible Princess.

  And an even worse ‘Chosen One’ of Amor.

  “Now, there,” a soft, girlish voice spoke, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  Aria looked up through her bleary eyes. She could see only a small figure, so blindingly white she looked away.

  “Poor Dear,” the voice said. “Your once beautiful, golden eyes have gone red. Too much time within the dark.”

  Aria felt a slight pat on her head, and her mouth moved to ask who it was that was speaking to her, but she found she had no control.

  “Shh, don’t bother. You are very ill— Well, that’s my fault, but you’ll see why soon enough. My name is Seraphina, and I have been sent by Amor to answer your call.”

  Amor? Surely not.

  Seraphina sighed. “Floating right in front of her, and still she doubts. Oh, well. You will see for yourself.”

  The white figure vanished, and darkness enveloped her. The warmth that had taken over her body faded to a cool sensation, and her mind drifted into a dark void, eager for peace.