An eternity elapsed as her lungs squeezed each precious molecule of air from the atmosphere. They broiled under toil, her exertion forced and pained. Her labored breathing siphoned the meager energy left for consumption. No breath relieved the ache.

The truth inflicted such harm, burrowing into her heart. The accompanying thorns lacerated her skin and bones, leaving gaping holes for vermin to enter. A single chance and the pests propagated. They rushed forward, gnawing her exposed flesh and feasting on her weakness. Her hard-earned survival instinct wouldn't save her from this fear.

Yes, this feeling was old. Time failed to abolish its claim.

Though tears clung to the corners of her eyes, she fought against the scars. Their memories unleashed the wails of her inner beast. How could they be here? Why here of all places?

Reality dragged her down, her nails digging into the wall as she dropped. She closed her eyes, focusing her attention on her breathing condition. She concentrated on the process, dismissing the flood of questions and thoughts.

Her heartbeat slowed as she reclaimed herself. The fervent control she desired returned.

Her sisters had been the spark. But never would she cede them her reaction and grant them a grand showing of her surrender. They'd never understand how their existence supplemented the madness ravaging her mind. How each death blotted the white parchment that was her soul, forcing her one step more into oblivion.

Isla planted a hand to her face, wiping the moisture away. The motion did little to cool the raging inferno creeping to her cheeks.

Forget her sisters, how could she face her father on equal terms? How could she escape him—the King of Gods?

She clenched her chest, letting out a hysterical laugh from this knowledge. Everything—he had it all: the strength, the manpower, the status and wealth. He embodied the Gods.

Yet, they claimed he killed her due to her potential. What did that deplorable old woman know?

Isla rose to her feet, her legs wobbling from the shock. The notion she possessed some profound unknown power was ridiculous. She slammed her fist into the wall. They didn't understand, her hate transcended any normal vengeance, even his death wouldn't suffice.

She shook her head at the surging fury. Such emotions would dull her senses, plunging her into a single-minded mentality. But with her sleep deprivation and distraught mind, eliminating the stress proved impossible. The nagging twitch remained strong. The throbbing failed to cease. Only did hopes of sleep dampen her current thoughts.

Her gaze absorbed the long stretch of hallway leading to the living complex. She cringed at the white, sparkling walls. Their perfection and purity perturbed her disposition further. Beautiful at a glance, but misery disfigured the immaculate surface into a seething monster.

"Isla," Rydin called, standing in her path with a leather-bound book in hand.

Her eyes widened and her mouth almost dropped open. Where did he come from? Had she been so dazed and disoriented she lost her bearings? She wet her lips, a cold chill crawling up her spine.

"Isla?" His voice hitched and his forthright gaze jeopardized her fragile composure.

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

Rydin stepped towards her, blocking her view. "You look pale. Are you sick? Wait, do Gods get sick?"

Before she could respond, monstrous explosions detonated nearby. Both sides of the hallway brewed with smoke, funneling at them. The smoke rushed onwards like an enraged animal, engulfing all who stood in its path.

Rydin trudged into the inner courtyard, beckoning with his hand for Isla. "Over here looks safe for now," he said followed by a cough into his hand. "What do you think happened?"

Rydin's gaze traveled from the entrance to the opposite side of the courtyard. But his attention remained transfixed, halting his commentary.

Isla aligned with Rydin's direction, staring at the source of his entrapment—Rein. He strode towards them with surprising calmness. No smirk danced upon his dimples or humored the contours of his face. Still, his piercing eyes foretold a coming storm, one entirely unavoidable.

"Rein, what's going on?" Isla questioned, her voice lacking any substance.

"Magic bombs collapsed the hallways."

"Who's responsible?" Her stomach churned as the knowledge digested. Was it them, already?

Rein brought her guess to fruition. "The Gods."

How could this be? They cornered her and risked disrupting the precarious balance between the Arcadians and themselves. Why go so far? Did her importance outweigh the lives of thousands?

"How do you know?" Rydin interrupted. "Your explanation sounds too perfect to be true."

Rein narrowed his eyes, a glint slicing through his calm blues. "I don't need to explain myself to you."

Isla rubbed her throbbing temple. Rydin was right, but she had no time to argue. "I need to leave."

"That's not happening, Isla. The bombs blocked off the exits. We're stuck here."

Her stomach sank from his words. "I'm not going to sit here and wait for them," Isla said, turning back towards the previous hallway.

"Isla." Rein clutched her shoulder, halting her midstep. "You can't."

"Why do you stop her? The Gods will kill us," Rydin added and stepped closer, but remained an arm's length from Rein.

Rein crossed his arms, his muscles tensing beneath his shirt. "Back off."

"Isla, this is weird. Don't you think?" Rydin fired off.

"Shut up," Rein growled and grabbed Rydin by his hood, pulling him forward.

Rydin yelped. "Let me go!" He struggled against Rein's grip, his body shaking.

Isla sighed. "Rein, this isn't the time for starting a fight. What's wrong with you?"

His furrowed brow softened, erasing the fine lines that borrowed his intensity. The chilling gaze he had directed at Rydin mellowed and instead bore a complexity, unlike his playful demeanor. His seriousness shouldered a swelling sadness. One look at his new appearance and Isla stepped back. He instigated a string of alarms, their buzzing dangerous and real on instinct.

"Rein," she murmured, "what aren't you telling me?"

Rydin jumped back as Rein's grasp on him weakened. His lips parted, but the words she expected remained buried. The drooping of his shoulders and downward tilt of his chin added to her restlessness.

"Rein. Tell me."

They locked gazes, a flame surging to life, strengthening his spirit.

"I can't let you leave."

Rydin tugged on her cloak, dragging her back and widening the distance between them. Her body complied without hesitation even with the crushing weight ensnaring her heart. His meaning was simple. He brought the Gods here. Rein had betrayed her.

"How could you? She trusted you!" Rydin barked.

"Rein, why?"

"Simple—a trade. Your father made me an offer I couldn't resist. Take part in his little game, and I get the revenge I've always wanted."

"He wants you to kill me," Isla stated.

"His orders are final."

"He made you a God."

Rein scratched his head. "Not quite. I'm sure if I was, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"Is revenge worth being bound forever? You can't expect your freedom back ever again."

He smiled, but his gaze embodied only detachment and distance. "That's where you're wrong. This opens new opportunities. More than I could ever imagine."

"You'll become a monster like them," Rydin said.

"You aren't very bright, are you? I'm surprised Isla keeps you around. Sometimes getting your hands dirty is necessary, I'm sure Isla can relate."

"How does killing someone who trusts you necessary?"

He shrugged his shoulders, but the abominable smirk remained etched on his face. "I'm willing to make sacrifices to get what I want."

With each revelation from Rein, the heat within Isla bubbled and raged. He abandoned the freedom she sought with ease. Forget his deception and decision to support the man who hunted her like livestock, he forsook her one yearning. He equated her dream to slop. Nothing more than second-rated scraps.

Did he not understand? Did he not see the value of being unchained?

"There are other ways," Isla growled, "why resort to letting him use you?"

"Ah, you mean asking the Queen? Not a chance." Rein stood tall, no longer stooping and sagged. "Her words hold no value."

"That's-"

"Enough, Isla." His voice boomed within their enclosure. "Nothing more needs to be said. With my mind still my own, I get to make one final choice. I don't plan to kill you, there are things worse than death."

Her mouth shut before she spewed any incoherent words. This once inviting and charismatic man morphed into an even greater foe than her father. Nothing could dissuade one resolute on destruction. His mind was set.

The world spun, and she crumpled to her knees. A fierce bolt of pain surged through her body. Not once, but twice, continuing in quick succession. She convulsed from the strain, all her limbs paralyzed and aggravated. Each command to move was reprimanded with a burst of electricity.

Her face hit the floor, the stone surface beyond her perception. Even the ringing in her ears faded, replacing the noise with silence. Only sight remained, granting the ability to watch her enemies torture her soul alive.

She watched Rein draw his sword, flaunting the weapon's teeth. He neared her, one slow practiced step at a time. A fluidic grace overswept him as his sword swayed like an exotic dance meant to entrance. Yet, the performance wasn't for her.

Her gaze followed his direction, the source of his attention—Rydin.

She shuddered at the inevitable. What were Rydin's chances of survival? Did Rein truly mean to kill him?

Rydin skidded backward, his feet carrying him further away. But the distance failed to budge as Rein chased with ease. His back landed clean against a supporting pillar, his escape denied.

Why wasn't he attacking? Rydin still had a chance. Yet, his face was a pale white. His body rattled with panic at his looming fate. The horrific look of dread radiated from his pastel greens. Why did fear overwhelm him? Did Rein release an intimidating bloodlust?

As Rein prepared to attack, a glimmer of hope transformed Rydin's meek persona. He worked quick to surround himself in a yellow iridescent glow. He threw both hands up, the light intensifying and fluctuating.

The sword bounced off his shield, but one setback only fueled a relentless assault. Rein increased his pace, striking with momentum and strength. His blows shook Rydin's entire frame and added minuscule cracks to the barrier.

Each attack diminished their survival, but a slim victory existed. Isla shifted her gaze, searching for the source of her restraints. Who cast the spell?

Rein conjured no aura, he wasn't the mastermind. No, outside her immediate field she saw him, the one responsible—Skye.

If laughing were possible, she would have died from the irony he wrought.

Still, his presence provided the chance she desired. At times, Skye showed weakness. She'd scour the spell, examining each binding factor. The magic overlapped at a single point, one detrimental to its structural integrity. A closer look and she found the shallow creation he added. If she bombarded her constraints with high-intensity aura, focused at the convergence, she'd break the spell. Like Rein had admitted, her death wasn't the destination. They only furnished the pathway to unthinkable pain.

She denied her vision, concentrating on her aura and pooling the energy. The dam blockading her strength crushed beneath her focus. A single thought more, and the tidal wave of aura cascaded to her limbs. The reservoirs bolstered, surging in size. Her body howled, primed to capacity and threatened to split.

Isla eliminated her control and liberated her aura. The energy gushed from her body, swallowing the feeble spell entrapping her.

Her eyes shot open and widened. She was too late.

The physical pain ended, but her heart still throbbed. Isla clenched her breast, her gaze ensnared by the sword impaling Rydin.

Blood dripped from the metal hunk and the light within his adventure-seeking eyes dimmed. He reached towards her, his hand outstretched. Yet, the same hand plummeted to the floor, slamming into the earth.

She laid motionless, watching him breathe one last time. 

A/N: R.I.P Rydin. Let me know what you think. How do you feel about Rydin's death? Was it expected, or unexpected?