No, it dies.
Turning, I lower my head and push harder. My paws barely touch the ground as I run, leaping over trees and fallen logs, racing over verges and hills until I reach my goal.
The cliff.
It frames the waterfall next to me, the roar of the water loud, and there is a small clearing of grass by the treeline nearby. The creature lands there and swishes its three heads around to look at me, all three mouths open and ready to devour me.
Consume me and my power.
Digging my paws deeper into the ground, I push off and meet it in the middle, both of us flying into the air with the force of our leaps, our jaws clashing. I manage to avoid the mouths and bury my teeth into one of its necks, so I whip my head from side to side. My claws scratch down its skin, and everywhere I puncture, bright light shines through.
Stolen power escapes as I claw it again. Using its head, I climb and tear, circling its body until I get onto its back and, with all my strength, dig. My fast, shredding claws rip open its skin and expose its spine. The light grows brighter and brighter as it screams. I tear off its wings and toss them away, and one of its heads comes around. I spot the fire, so I throw myself from its back, but it singes my tail and I roar in agony.
I roll as I land on the ground, almost tumbling right off the edge of the cliff, before I leap up and lower my muzzle, letting out a warning growl. It charges me again, and this time, I wait.
And wait.
And wait.
At the last second, I throw myself to the side, narrowly missing its razor-sharp fangs. With a scream, it falls over the edge of the cliff and crashes all the way down.
It hits the ground below and explodes into a shower of power, which echoes throughout the forest with a bang. Huffing in annoyance, I lie down right there, exhaustion flowing through me.
My shoulder was hurting before, but now it’s killing me slowly, and my tail hurts. The agony increases until I whine and drop my head to my paws and rest.
Fucking magic.
Alejandra
I am losing myself. I barely speak or eat. I sit with my back straight and play the part well, hiding the bruises and cuts with glamour, not wanting to waste my power on healing myself when others need it so desperately. I can slowly feel the will leaving my body, even if my power never does, continuously swirling within me and trying to break free to attack those who mean me harm.
I can feel my destiny now—death.
I will die.
Alone and scared.
I have all this power…and it will not save me.
I have met with the queen twice since the announcement, one was a formality to be read the terms and an explanation of what would happen…the other was informal.
Just her and me.
It was torture. Plain and simple.
She wants me to die or cave. I can tell. She is cruel and evil. She had me test my powers on the servants she keeps. There was a man chained to her wall, and she cut him over and over, burnt him, and ripped his flesh away and feasted on it before she had me heal him. It happened again and again.
I cannot even bear to think about what she did to me.
I didn’t cry until I returned home, managing to hold it back, but when I got to bed, I let it all free. The horror, the suffering, my own guilt for not helping the man.
I couldn’t free him, he would have been killed instantly, but I could have stopped healing him and just let him die. In his eyes, I saw that was what he wanted, but my power wouldn’t let me.
I’m a healer, not a killer.
It didn’t stop the queen from forcing her power through my body after to see if I could heal myself as I lay screaming in a puddle of my own blood. It seems blood looks the same on the glittering floor of the court as it does on the dirt roads of the slums.
The next day, I had brunch with Mother and Theo. He acted so perfectly, playing a man falling in love with his soon to be bride. I couldn’t act that well. I simply held back my hate and hoped it was enough.
It was not.
Mother suggested a walk for him and me to get to know each other more—that’s when he struck. His anger and hatred took over so easily, like blood sliding across his perfect face and obscuring his vision, distorting it until he was someone else.
I managed to hide the bruises after, but not the bone deep fear I now feel.
I can’t survive a life with him. Each time we meet, his blows get stronger, more confident. He started using his feet and his power. Tonight, after a meal with other nobles and his parents, I escaped back to my room, blaming exhaustion from my training.
He tracked me down.
The things he did to me…I will never be the same. He ripped away my dress, my defences, and laughed as he touched me in a place no other had. He took my innocence with his fingers as easily as he took my hand for marriage. He cut my thighs with his magic and showed me the blood. He laughed after as well as he wiped them clean. He told me something that rings through my head even now…
“Now no one will ever want you. Used, unclean…nothing more than a whore from court. It is better if you stay by my side and do as you’re told. Next time, it won’t be my fingers, my silver one, it will be my cock and I will tell everyone just how much you loved it.”
He left then, and I had lain in a heap, where I continue to do so now. No tears fall, they refuse to. I am numb, empty, and so alone.
My blood mars my thighs and the floor, a stark reminder of the blood I will lose before I die.
And I will die.
From either him or the queen.
When the house quiets and no one checks on me, I force myself to stand on my weak, stumbling feet, and wash in the bathroom—washing away the evidence of the attack.
Of the defilement.
I stare down at my hands in the water, the crimson wrapping around them, and the glow starts again. My power soothes me, heals me, and reminds me I am never alone.
That there is always a choice.
This place is no longer safe, no longer my home. What other choice do I have? If I stay, I die, and I promised Cail I wouldn’t. That I would survive this court and its cruelty. I can’t help anyone if I’m dead.
It’s time for me to leave.
There is nothing here for me anymore. I know my parents will suffer for my leaving, but even as the guilt fills me, so does anger. They didn’t stop me from being hurt or help me when I needed it. I don’t think they even care that I exist. My own mother turned away when I was being assaulted by another.
They do not care for me, so why should I care for them?
No, it’s time to go. Now. Before I’m trapped in that marriage and led to slaughter by him or the queen, and I know it would be painful. I would be tortured before I died, my body broken and used, my mind ripped open and played with by their power.
I will not let it happen. I refuse to be silent anymore. I refuse to not fight. I’m going to do something so shocking, so traitorous, they will hunt me until the end of time.
I am going to leave.
There is a whole world out there. I can find a home, happiness, and a purpose somewhere.
Decision made, I lift my head and square my shoulders. I whisper a goodbye to my old self and Cail as I grab a few meager belongings—mainly trousers I am not allowed to wear outside this room, two dresses, my locket from Cail, and some jewels to sell to survive.
Looking around the barren, spotless bedroom, I note there is nothing else I need to take or even want to. There are no memories or trinkets. It is all just dazzling emptiness.