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Chapter 35 – Prisoner

  ACT V

  Chapter 35 – Prisoner

  The air smelled of dust, blood, and iron, while the wind, with its sharp howls, lifted the dirty sand like a shroud over the headless body of Requiem.

  The blood had already congealed into dark patches around the corpse, and the soldiers, accustomed to the horrors of war, worked in silence, cleaning the field as if it were just another workday.

  Further off, Urano and Aton were being supported by some soldiers.

  Their bodies, devastated from the battle, seemed on the verge of collapsing, but the iron will that had kept them standing until then still drove them to not appear weak in front of their men.

  Urano was in the worst condition.

  His skin was pale, his breathing short and heavy.

  The bandages wrapped around his chest and arms were already stained with blood, but he didn’t complain.

  He simply gritted his teeth and kept his eyes forward, with the pride of a man who refuses to bend.

  Aton, although seriously injured, seemed to be holding up better.

  He had closed his eyes for a moment while a field medic tightly wrapped a bandage around his shoulder, but he never stopped gazing at the horizon, the black sea stretching out beyond the port of Porto Fidelis.

  He knew the journey would be long, and the wounds would take weeks to heal, but there was no time to stop.

  


  "Let’s set sail."

  Urano’s words were barely a whisper, but they were enough to set the soldiers in motion.

  The ships were already ready, moored at the port like metallic beasts waiting to devour them.

  Their sturdy hulls gleamed under the lantern light, reflecting the glow of the flames still burning in some corner of the city, signs of the battle that had ravaged the district near Requiem’s circus.

  Love lay unconscious, her fragile, wounded body dragged carelessly by the soldiers like a sack of meat.

  Her face was a mask of dried blood and dirt, her clothes torn to shreds, the chains on her wrists and ankles clinking with a cold, merciless sound as they loaded her aboard like a piece of unwanted cargo.

  The wind whipped the ship as the soldiers raised the sails, leaving Porto Fidelis behind and heading toward Drakoria, the pulsating heart of Elysium.

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  Below deck, amidst the smell of salt and rotting wood, Love remained helpless and chained, unaware of the fate that awaited her.

  The hold door creaked open with a sinister sound, letting in a faint beam of light that cast long shadows across the wooden floor.

  The rolling of the ship made the lantern hanging from the ceiling sway.

  Urano entered first.

  His massive figure filled the cramped space, wrapped in bandages soaked in dried blood.

  He walked with heavy steps, his hands clenched into fists.

  Even injured, even devastated by the battle, his gaze was filled with contempt.

  Love did not look up.

  She was slumped on the floor, the chains on her wrists and ankles forcing her into an uncomfortable position.

  Pain pulsed in every part of her body: cracked lips, scratches on her cheeks, clothes torn and caked with blood.

  She didn’t remember the last time she had been able to breathe without feeling pain.

  The silence became oppressive.

  Then, a brutal hand grabbed her by the hair and yanked her up violently.

  Love stifled a groan as her scalp burned.

  Urano forced her to raise her face toward him, his hot, furious breath grazing her skin.

  


  "So, bitch," he hissed, with a cruel smile.

  "Did you enjoy running away?"

  Love didn’t answer.

  A violent slap made her head snap to the side.

  She tasted iron in her mouth.

  Urano let her go, letting her fall to the ground with a dull thud.

  


  "Do you know where we’re going?"

  Silence.

  A kick to the stomach.

  Love crumpled into herself, breath broken by a wave of sharp pain.

  


  "To Drakoria."

  His voice was low, dangerously calm.

  


  "And guess what? Your pretty face will end up on a pyre, in full view, in the heart of the capital.

  The people of Elysium will witness your public execution.

  Do you know why?"

  He leaned over her, gripping her face between his bloodstained fingers.

  


  "Because you’re nothing."

  Love closed her eyes.

  Pain, disgust, humiliation… it all overlapped in a suffocating whirlpool.

  Urano stood up with an annoyed grunt.

  


  "I would’ve liked to kill you myself, but you know how it is, the laws of your beloved Elysium demand a spectacle.

  And I hate spectacles."

  He turned without looking at her, adjusting his bandages.

  


  "Take that grin off your face, Aton," he snarled toward the companion waiting at the threshold.

  


  "I’m done with her."

  And with that, he left, leaving behind only the sound of the chains and Love’s broken breath.

  The chains clinked faintly as she tried to move, but pain was everywhere, pulsing in the open wounds and aching muscles.

  Then, slow footsteps.

  Aton approached without haste, stopping next to her.

  No anger, no mockery, just a long sigh.

  He crouched, reaching out a hand toward her battered face.

  Love flinched.

  No slap.

  No hit.

  Just a slow, controlled gesture as he wiped the blood flowing from her split lip with his thumb.

  


  "You don’t need to touch your face with that grimace."

  His voice was calm, almost tired.

  


  "I’m not Urano."

  Love looked at him with eyes full of suspicion.

  Aton studied her for a moment, then stood up and went to get a handkerchief from his inner coat pocket.

  He wetted it with some water from the flask at his belt and brought it to her wounds.

  


  "May I?" he asked.

  Love remained silent, then nodded weakly.

  Aton began to dab her face with a tenderness that seemed to belong to someone else.

  There was no pity in his gaze, but neither cruelty.

  Just pragmatism.

  


  "I can’t stand it when Urano loses control," he murmured.

  Love didn’t respond.

  She didn’t know how to react.

  Aton remained silent for a few moments, then sat back down next to her, his hands clasped between his knees.

  


  "You know where we’re taking you, don’t you?"

  Love lowered her gaze.

  No need to answer.

  Aton nodded slowly.

  


  "To the capital of Drakoria." His voice was almost a whisper.

  


  "And not for a stroll."

  Love felt a shiver run up her spine.

  


  "They will burn you alive."

  The words came from him without cruelty, without emphasis.

  Just a statement of fact, as if he were telling her something inevitable, already written.

  


  "They’ll do it in the square, in front of everyone.

  The people of Elysium must see the end of the ‘woman’ who dared to challenge the order."

  Aton leaned against the wall of the hold, his gaze directed at the wooden ceiling.

  


  "It’s strange, you know?" he said after a moment.

  


  "I look at you and I don’t see a monster.

  Yet, according to the law, you are."

  Love stared at him with eyes full of fury and despair.

  


  "I didn’t do anything."

  Aton gave a tired smile.

  


  "It doesn’t matter."

  For a moment, only the sound of the waves against the hull of the ship.

  Then Aton stood up, shaking his head.

  


  "Rest, if you can.

  It won’t do any good, but at least you won’t die completely exhausted."

  He turned, heading toward the exit.

  But before leaving, he stopped for a moment at the threshold.

  "What a world"

  He murmured, more to himself than to her.

  And then, he disappeared beyond the door.

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