Jordan's POV

Ringing, relentless ringing in my ears that never seemed to cease. That was all I could hear. The high pitched whine mixed in with the sounds of shouting and the stamping of boots on stone floors, all emphasised by the sound of panicked breathing and the whimpers of pain that echoed around the structure like bats seeking their home. My breathing was harsh, grating up and down my throat as if someone had rubbed sandpaper down it. I cupped my neck, feeling the sensitive skin and the pain that emanated from certain patches when I rubbed my fingers across them – the after effects of strangulation.

Flickering my eyes open, a wave of pain wracked through my body as my nerves began to awaken from their numbed state. I flexed each of my limbs, ignoring the twinges of pain that they brought – focusing on the fact that they were all working. I did a quick examination of my body, seeing the multitude of bruises and cuts that littered my body – scabs and crusted blood clinging to my skin like a child does to its mother in times of fear and grief. A large cut was visible on my sword arm, going from the elbow right the way to my wrist – precariously close to the vital veins that helped keep me alive. I pushed myself to my feet, shoving the pain to the back of my mind to deal with later and began to take in my surroundings.

It was cold, goosebumps dancing across my skin and the cold draft that was coming into where I had been laying made it no warmer. All around me were bars and chains, clear signs of my imprisonment and by the looks of them, they were created with some metals I hadn't even discovered yet – rare materials that were not found in our old realm. The walls were made of some reinforced brick, with no signs of the aged cracking or weathering that I presumed would occur in a jail cell. I pressed myself up against the bars only to be jerked back by the feeling of electricity running through my body. I hissed in pain and approached them more carefully, my vision clearing fully and allowing me to see the slight shimmer surrounding the electrified bars.

Looking outside of my cell was what seemed like a dungeon, down in the deepest part of the prison – little light was filtering in through the doors that were the only exit to this hellhole. There were four cells in this area, two directly across from me with wide open doors, presumably empty and one that must be connected to my own. Leaning as close to the bars as I dared, I craned my neck to try and see into the cell next to my own. Its occupant was barely visible but the locked door was a clear enough symbol that I wasn't alone in here. My brain was searching for a solution to my current predicament but it was clear that the guards had thought of basically everything – I needed help and fast. Whispering harshly, I tried to gain the attention of my fellow prisoner.

"Hey! Fellow prisoner! Can you hear me?"

A startled gasp emanated from the figure in the shadows and what sounded like a sob of relief followed it as the subdued voice of Andor reached my ears, he was alright!

"Jordan! Oh, my word I'm so glad you are awake! You've been unconscious for over three days; I thought... maybe they'd killed you."

"I'm fine Andor, a bit of pain from the solid beating they gave me but overall I'm fine. How are you? Did they do anything to you whilst I was out?"

"Not really. I'm not sure what is holding them back, it's mostly been foul language and threats rather than actual abuse – it seems they've been waiting for something."

Horror dawned on me as I realised what they were waiting for. It couldn't be a coincidence that in all the time that I was unconscious nothing happened to Andor. My gaze frantically moved to the doors which had opened during our conversation, where a flurry of guards stood along with Lieutenant Al and the King. I glared openly at them, disgust and fury filling my veins as they walked towards us with huge sadistic grins on their face when they saw the fear that must've been filling Andor's eyes. Our cell doors were opened and several guards manhandled me out of my own, making sure to grip as hard as they could onto my various wounds – trying to force me to submit to their authority. Andor walked out of his without much encouragement, the sight of his father seemingly scaring him more than the sight of his abusers. The cold, furious voice of Al filled the room – the King merely nodding and staring at Andor with disgust as he went on.

"Oh look our sleeping beauty has finally awoken. We had to... subdue you a bit longer than expected since your penchant for trouble would've caused all sorts of issues during the journey here. So if your reactions and things are a bit sluggish for a while don't worry, the drug will wear off... eventually.

Welcome to Inertia boys. You two are going to be here for a long time and you've got a lot of therapy to go through before we can allow you to go back to society. Our long list of punishments begins today, with a little group therapy. Andor is going to go through a little surgery today, just to ensure that he doesn't try any escape attempts and you Jordan, only need to watch. We'll get to your treatment tomorrow. Have to treat the Prince first, where would my manners be if I didn't?"

Al merely clicked his fingers and the guards all launched into action, some ushering the King from the room – probably ensuring that the crazy Ianite followers didn't try and harm him, others slamming Andor to the floor and a few bringing in various sharp implements that brought bile into my throat. The rest turned to me and pushed me into a wall, at least ten guards gripping onto my shaking form to ensure that I got the best view in the house for the horror I was about to witness. The ear screeching sound of metal sharpening and the smell of rust permeated the air as I strained to see past the swarm of guards preparing for the torture session.

The swarm cleared, leaving a direct view for me – close enough that if I stepped more than three steps forward I would topple over Andor's tied form. His arms were shackled to the floor and his ankles were tied together so he couldn't try and scramble away. Fear swam through his eyes and he looked at me pleadingly, causing me to struggle even more against those who were detaining me. I growled ferociously and continued to wriggle in the arms of my captors, their grips only increasing and the sounds of their laughter filling my ears.

"ANDOR! LET HIM GO YOU MONSTERS!"

Lieutenant Al strolled over to where I was struggling, crouching down to get right into my face – his demented smirk prominent and a promise in his eyes. What I saw would scar me for the rest of my life and this was only the beginning – my turn was coming soon. Al raised his hand and slapped me across the face, laughing at the flash of pain that darted through my eyes at the stinging sensation. His voice was quiet and full of malevolence as he whispered to me:

"Enjoy the show."

With that he picked up a tool that I couldn't quite make out in the dim lighting and ventured to Andor's side, whispering something in his ears that caused Andor to freeze in pure fear and horror. Taking a dagger from his belt, Al ripped Andor's shirt from his back – revealing his beautiful wings that Ianite had gifted him for his loyalty in the past. They fluttered limply almost on instinct at being freed but seeing them made everything fall into place for me. The only way Andor would be able to escape was if he could fly and for that, he needed his wings.

Al lifted the saw into the air and examined it, letting us both see the glistening metal in our peripheral vision before gesturing for the guards to hold Andor down. He placed it gently next to Andor's main wing bone and shared a look with me – horror in my eyes and glee in his. The sound of the saw cutting into Andor's bones was the most horrific sound I had ever heard, echoed with the soundtrack of Andor's agonising screams. He pleaded and sobbed for them to stop, his words soon not making sense as the pain sent him into delirium. Blood and bone fragments began to scatter across the floor, seeping into my clothes where I was held kneeling on the floor. I struggled valiantly to get to Andor, to remove the saw from Al's cruel hands but more and more guards held me still as the sound of my friend's agony engraved itself into my mind. Bile rose into my throat as Al threw one of the wings to the side, a limp blood stained mess that was once beautiful now a sight of gore and horror.

Andor stopped moving shortly after the first wing was removed, passed out from agony and blood loss. Tears fell from my eyes and mingled with the blood that stained the floor – the horrific scene continuing in silence, all that could be heard was my sobs of despair and the disgusting sound of a saw cutting through bones and skin. Al whistled cheerily to himself, taking joy from the demented task and revelling in the expressions that crossed my face. For every movement I made to try and get to Andor's side, a guard would kick or punch me as hard as they could. My wounds had reopened but I didn't care, my friend was dying at the hands of a sick minded man and his father was allowing it to happen.

"S-Stop. Please. Just stop for god's sake you are going to kill him!"

Al merely smirked at me as I pleaded and cried for him to stop, my walls of strength falling down at the trauma that would haunt me for years. The sight of a friend being mutilated and beaten so seemed familiar and it burned in my very soul that I had to see it once – never mind the idea that I had seen it before. Al threw the other wing into the corner, stepping back and admiring his handiwork. All I could see was blood and bone sticking out from Andor's mutilated form, the open wounds seeping the crimson fluid of life and the deep cuts that would surely scar him both physically and mentally. I closed my eyes, finally refusing to watch anymore and trying to escape from this hell that I had found myself in. What kind of justice was this?

I heard heavy footsteps coming towards me and a gloved hand grabbed my chin and pulled it upwards – forcing me to open my eyes to see the King staring back at me, anger blazing in his eyes. In his mind, I was to blame. My punishment was going to be much worse than this.

A/N

It's been a month since I last updated and I do apologise for that. For those who check my notice board fairly regularly you'll know that school has been insane - had literally no time to write since the day I got here (about a month ago). But this chapter I felt had to come sooner than later so I decided to do it, it was a scene we've all imagined from Season 2.

It's Jordan's turn next chapter.

Much love <3

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Have fun <3

- Caitlin