WARNING: Depiction of violence is evident in the following scenes that may be upsetting for other viewers. Reader discretion is advised.

Xanthy shivered on the floor. Her own blood coated the wood and filled her nose with its thick, rusty scent. Pain racked her whole body as cuts as wide as a finger marred her back and her legs. It was cold. The dark provided suffocating company. Even in the silence, Xanthy could hear the crack of the whip. She heard her cries of pain and of help.

No one would save you now. The voice belonging to no one played again and again in her head. Xanthy whimpered as another crack resounded in the quiet room. Voices crowded inside her mind, most of it belonged to the Heiress and the Sovereign, forcing her to divulge the Virtakios to their influence.

Xanthy's answer had been the same throughout. No.

Crack. Scream. No!

Xanthy's eyes opened as a cough racked her whole body. She hacked, hoping her lungs would come out of her chest and she would die. At least, this way, she's keeping everything safe.

Every time she wanted to give up and every time she wanted to just give the Heiress and the Sovereign what they wanted, she thought of her friends' faces, their memories together, and what their lives could be. They kept her going. They kept her saying no every time the whip found its home on her flesh.

It was only a few hours and she was already so close to agreeing to the Heiress and the Sovereign's plans. She didn't know how long she could hold out when it's so painful. Everything hurts...

When she closed her eyes, the faces of her friends plagued her mind. What would happen if she failed here and now? The images the Arbotro showed her in the Realm of the Lost resurfaced. It tightened her chest further. No. She had to stay strong.

Why...was it so hard?

She wanted to sleep but the cold drove the drowsiness off her system. There wasn't even a draft of wind and this was still the same burning hell, so why was it this cold? She shivered again. She couldn't do this...

June...

Xanthy shook her head to clear it from any thoughts about him. The Sovereign and the Heiress might use him as leverage for her if she let her relationship with him show. It helped somehow that she made it look like she betrayed them so everyone at Penleth were angry at her. She sighed it's all good.

The door cracked open once more, jolting her awake. When had she slept? The Heiress strode into the room. Her boots thumped against the wooden floor in light but purposeful steps. The Sovereign followed. They both waved their hands and three-legged stools materialized from nowhere.

"So," the Heiress propped herself down into her stool. The Sovereign did the same. "Here we are again."

Xanthy pushed herself up despite the lightness gripping her temples. Her wounds from yesterday still stung. "Beizhen Liros," she rasped through the taste of iron in her tongue.

The Heiress and the Sovereign stiffened. Their faces became guarded. Magic turned the room hotter. Sweat beaded on Xanthy's forehead. She needed to see this through.

"How?" the Sovereign's eyes narrowed. "Where did you get that?"

Xanthy didn't speak. The Sovereign lunged towards Xanthy and pinned her against the post she was tied in. The chain dug against Xanthy's throat. Fear rolled in waves inside her. Up close, the Sovereign's brown skin was far from plump. The skin was pulled taut from the flesh and was peeling on some parts.

"Tell me what trick is up your sleeve, you witch," the Sovereign snarled. Her upper lip curled in anger. "Shall I make you tell me?"

"The oracle," Xanthy swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. Using Rutoria as a scapegoat was never her intention. "She thought that would give me the upper hand against you."

The Sovereign exhaled as she drew back. A smile spread across her face. She was amused. She clicked her tongue as she turned to the Heiress. "Have they found her yet?"

"No," the Heiress leaned back and started picking dirt from her nails again. Relief washed over Xanthy. There would still be hope if they haven't found Rutoria yet.

Xanthy dragged her gaze towards the whip sitting in the Heiress's belt and shivered. The cracking sound lashed at her ears, making her flinch. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a few deep breaths even though her lungs rattled. It isn't real this time. Focus. "I know why you're doing this," she said. Her voice sounded weak and hoarse in her ears. "It's not worth it."

The Heiress stopped cleaning her nails. The Sovereign paused in the middle of pacing. Both looked at Xanthy.

"Power isn't the answer to everything," Xanthy's chains clinked when she moved her arms to her side. "Nor would running away solve all your problems."

"Wouldn't you want to be free?" The Sovereign's voice was quiet, unsure. Xanthy raked her eyes towards the woman who spent centuries killing people just to get what she wanted. "Wouldn't you want to be able to choose without consequences? To be able to do what you want?" The Sovereign looked at Xanthy with a grim expression. "Because with this power, we can do that. We can be free."

Xanthy shook her head. "Freedom isn't something we destroy people for just so we could get it," she jerked her chin at the Heiress. "You wanted a world without war yet you brought it upon its door, yourself. And you," she turned to the Sovereign. "You wanted unity so much that you ended up sending us into a place where we may not be able to recover."

The two women were quiet.

"Both are ideals of the past," the Heiress said after some time, straightening on her seat. The clean nails were forgotten. "What matters is the present and the future. We have come this far to turn back now."

"Or you could stop running," Xanthy said. "You could choose to end this all here and face the consequences of your past choices—"

"That won't work so well, would it?" The Sovereign stalked towards Xanthy and drew a dagger from the folds of her dark robes. Xanthy's blood drained from her face. She tried edging backwards but her back only found the pole. "Do you know what awaits us in the afterlife, Xanthy?" the Sovereign plunged the dagger down Xanthy's leg. Xanthy screamed as the Sovereign pulled it back out. Her blood dripped from the blade and into the floor.

"That's right," the Sovereign whispered. She stabbed Xanthy's leg again. Xanthy fell sideways making the chains clink. The world blurred as blood trickled out from her leg. Her head throbbed as tears flowed freely from her eyes. She cast her eyes around for someone—anyone—to help. Her gaze only landed on the Heiress at the back of the room back to her nails. The Heiress never once looked up.

"Endless pain," the Sovereign dragged every last syllable in a sinister whisper. Xanthy lost all her thoughts as her stomach tightened. Her muscles tensed and she started shivering. It was...cold. "The afterlife is painful, after all."

The Sovereign smiled with her lips pressed together. The sides of her eyes softened. She drew closer to Xanthy's ear. Her breath curdled Xanthy's skin as she hissed, "There's nowhere I could go that's without pain. What I want is to be able to spend one day without it."

The knife went into Xanthy's flesh again. Xanthy's form buckled as she screamed. "Just," the Sovereign pulled and stabbed again. "One day."

The knife found its home on Xanthy's arm. Xanthy's head swam. She couldn't do anything to stop it. Pain increased in a million notches. The smell of blood made Xanthy gurgle and throw up. The Sovereign drew back up and threw the dagger away. Xanthy's blood flecked the Sovereign's peeling cheeks, the red complimenting the brown like it always belonged there.

Xanthy shivered as her blood stained the wooden floor once more. No one could save her this time. She was the one who's supposed to be saving them and now she's being butchered. She couldn't do anything with her magic blocked by the chains. She...would die here.

"I'm sure you understand our sentiments, Xanthy," the Heiress's voice sounded far away with Xanthy's senses dulling. "Nothing will stop us from pursuing our own interests because the world can go mess with itself."

"Selfish," Xanthy rasped. Her head felt like it was being split into two. "You are selfish."

The Heiress laughed, running her hands on the fresh blood still seeping from Xanthy's flesh. "Maybe," she bobbed her head. "Aren't you also?"

Xanthy wrenched her eyes open. She didn't even know she had closed them. The Heiress crouched by her, grinning like torturing a person didn't bother her the least bit. "You surrendered everything your allies worked hard for, remember?" the Heiress yanked Xanthy's head off the floor using her hair. Xanthy cried out more out of desperation rather than anything else. "What for? Because you feel responsible? Because you want to take credit? Or because you just want to fulfill your duty?"

Xanth's chest heaved, the pain climbing up from her leg up to her gut. The Heiress slammed Xanthy's head against the pole. Xanthy coughed blood into the Heiress's boots. "The duty that fate gave you," the Heiress tilted her head to one side, her eyes hardening. "Wouldn't you want to be free from that? Wouldn't you want to be free from the consequences you made because of that duty?"

"No," Xanthy said through her constricting throat and blackening vision. "Because unlike you, I know that everything I do can save people but can also harm them. Unlike you, I know enough that each of our actions sows uncontrollable seeds. I know that all we can do in this life, all we ever know to do is choose. Because choices...are all we have," Xanthy forced herself to look at the Heiress's cold, dark eyes. "I wouldn't want to run away. Never again."

The consequent blow drove the pain home and Xanthy fell limp against the floor, too dazed to move. Did...she break something? The world spun. She lost all the feeling on her limbs. It was...colder.

The Heiress fetched the dagger that the Sovereign threw away. "Ah, I remember whose form this is," she cooed, running her forefinger along the edge of the blade. "Ravalee, was it?"

Xanthy's throat closed. No. Not that. Please...

The Heiress grinned upon seeing desperation flicker upon Xanthy's face. "Relax," she crouched in front of Xanthy who did her best to scramble back. The Heiress lashed out and grasped a fistful of Xanthy's hair.

Ravalee's hair.

"It won't hurt a bit," the Heiress hissed in Xanthy's ear before sweeping the blade by Xanthy's neck. The snip of hair being cut and the lifeless thud of the severed locks erased every ounce of pain Xanthy endured.

She let Ravalee's form get defiled. Was that how she intended to live the life she was gifted with? The wounds were already bad enough. Sobs racked Xanthy's form. She's not worthy. She didn't deserve every sacrifice made for her. All those people with their lives wasted with their choices. What had Xanthy given back to them? Failure. Time and again. Xanthy always failed.

"Let's finish this," the Heiress stepped back from Xanthy and let the knife clatter against the wooden floorboards once more. "I want custody over your magic."

Xanthy coughed weakly, bringing her hand to her mouth. Her fingers came away red. Would she die here? She has to. She sighed and shook her head with the last of her strength. "No."

It sounded hollow. She didn't really mean it now. If anything, she would have the Heiress end her suffering. Faster. Cleaner.

As the Heiress unfurled her whip again, Xanthy knew how the next few hours would go. It wouldn't be pretty.