Sahaim rushed downstairs, eager to put to rest the uneasy feeling inside him that Rahríténne was lying. His sister was one of the most honest people that he knew; sometimes brutally so. He believed that she couldn't lie; that she wasn't capable. After all, he'd see through it immediately. One of the hidden, unique traits of his Magick was that he could almost always figure out when somebody was lying.

Upon reaching the kitchen door, his mother stopped preparing the food, and turned round smiling at him. "Your turn!" She laughed, in the bright and bubbly way that she was so well known for. He groaned, but even the thought of chopping up vegetables could not diminish his new-found happiness.

As he set to work, he sneakily watched his mother out of the corner of his eye. She was getting the pots ready to make their dinner- Vegetable Soup. Noting that she had almost got everything that she needed, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Mummm..." he began, looking at her with wide eyes. "What did the elders say about dad?"

The glass serving dish dropped from her arms, shattering on the floor as it landed, sending shards of glass into every nook and cranny. She turned to face him, a look of open horror on her face. Guessing that he had already asked Rahríténne this question, she did not want to answer with different answers, therefore proving to Sahaim that all was not well with his father.

"Rahríténne! Come and help with preparing the dinner!" she called, hoping that her daughter would listen to her. She couldn't answer Sahaim until she had heard Rahríténne's story, about what had happened to his father.

Rahríténne groaned as she heard her mother asking her to help. She hated doing anything that was related to cooking- in fact, she hadn't been asked by her mother to help in a long time. Dishes had a habit of going wrong when she was 'helping' to make them.

Of course, it didn't help that her Magick responded to her hate of anything to do with cooking. She had a habit of ruining dishes on purpose, because she got so mad at her terrible cooking skills. Her mother was an excellent cook; why couldn't she follow in her footsteps? It wasn't fair. The only thing that she seemed to have an affinity for was destroying objects, such as meals, and a habit for standing up for those around her.

Although, her main trait was that she could not forgive people easily, much like her father.

Muttering about how much she loathed cooking, she grudgingly left her room to go downstairs, taking her time as she did so. The less cooking that she did, the better.

Arriving at the kitchen door, she saw Sahaim staring at their mother in confusion, and, in turn, their mother gazing at Rahríténne with a pleading look in her eyes. She mouthed, 'your father. Help.'

As soon as Rahríténne saw this, she guessed that her mother wanted her to say something about her father to Sahaim. What she didn't understand, was why.

Sahaim looked at his mother, frowning. "So, when is Dad coming home?" he asked, beginning to feel worried.

Rahríténne realised that her Mother didn't want to say something that could put the secret of their father's sentence in jepody. Sighing she shook her head at Sahaim, acting annoyed at him. "Like I said, he's coming home as soon as they find him. Mum's just sad that he hasn't been found yet."

Her mother looked relieved and Rahríténne shot her a quick glare. Sahaim wouldn't believe their story if she appeared to be happy. She was supposed to be unhappy. Her mother caught her expression, and quickly changed her expression, allowing it to become one of sadness. "Yes, he is, but I don't think that the leaders are trying hard enough to find him."

Sahaim grinned, jumping round excitedly. His father was coming home! He wouldn't have to put up with being the only male in the family anymore. Nobody understood him as well as his father.

He escaped the room, fearing that he would knock over the dinner in his excitement. His sister and mother's reactions still puzzled him, but he decided to let it slide. They had both answered with similar answers- that was all that he wanted to know.

Maybe the thought that was keeping him from asking anything else was that he really wanted it to be true- that his father was coming home.

Their mother wept on her daughter's shoulder, grieving for her husband. She knew that there could be no way out for him, and this she mourned bitterly. Rahríténne stared into the distance, full of thoughts abut him and his fate.

That was the moment when she decided that she wouldn't let this just slide by. She would do something to avenge her father.

Yet she had no idea what she could do to avenge him. Ideas ran through her mind, but she dismissed them, one by one. They would all fail, and she would achieve nothing from them. Rather, she would meet the same fate as her father. But, this time the leaders would make her younger brother and mother suffer it with her.

No, she could not risk that. But she had to think of something- before the injustice done to her father was made a habit, like the attendance calls at the Meeting.

Leaning her head against her mother's, she tried to feel afraid, but there was only an empty, hollow feeling. No tears would come.

As her mother's tears began to lessen, Rahríténne drew back from her, only to hear a loud knock at their front door. Walking into the hallway, she stared dumbly at it, until some more impatient raps on the door brough her out of her daze.

Staring at it like it was a snake, she made her way over and opened it, swallowing as she recgonised the person that stood in front of her.

One of the leaders, of whom she didn't know the name of, stood on their front doorstep.

"May I have a word?"

He sounded like he meant business, and Rahríténne wasn't about to refuse. He could have her killed, if he wished it.

Stepping out of the house, she quietly closed the door behind her, so that Sahaim wouldn't be able to overhear them. Turning to face the stranger, she asked him what he wanted to talk about. He replied with the words that she had dreaded hearing.

"The traitor."

Swallowing, she nodded, and he continued, asking her for her name.

"Rahríténne Dówrs, his daughter."

Raising an eyebrow, he replied, "I was told to speak to your mother, Ellisia Dówrs, but I guess that you'll do.

"I have some more... ah... details about the specific date of your father's punishment. It will be tomorrow. You see, we have found him, and we can now proceed as we see fit."

Her eyes widening, she glared at him with hate, thinking of all the possible ways that she could avenge her father. An idea struck her suddenly- she could hide this from her brother, at least.

Looking at him, trying to sound genuine, she told him that Sahaim was visiting a relative for a couple of days, so in fact, was not available for the next day. In reality, they did not have any known relatives, but he wasn't to know that. Her plan might just work.

He sighed, annoyed, and told her that her brother would be let off the hook. Sahaim would not have to see the death of his father. Instead, he would be allowed to visit his 'Relatives'. But, as a consequence, both Rahríténne and her mother would have to watch from right close by.

Rahríténne nodded, inwardly triumphant that he hadn't see through her plan. Or so she thought.

The stranger looked around, then said, "I should be on my way. And don't fret, your secret about your 'relatives' is safe with me." He winked, smiling slightly, then turned to walk away, speaking to her over his shoulder as he did so. "By the way, my name is Danreet Goltën, for future reference."

Rahríténne watched him leave, confused. How did he know? And how come he wasn't going to let the other leaders know?

Shrugging slightly, she knocked on the door, which was soon opened by her puffy eyed mother. Relating the terrible news, her mother broke down completely, sobbing her heart out.

Rahríténne had already decided that Sahaim should go to stay with one of his friends, rather than hiding in the house. That was too risky; if anything happened, and people came searching for him, that would be the first place that they would look in. She wrinkled her nose slightly. The only friends that Sahaim had were the ones that he made on the streets. She had never met their parents before, but there was no time for her to now. She would just have to trust his judgment.

Her mother, still weeping, had gone to lie down for a while. Rahríténne could understand this; after all, her mother was losing the person that she loved in less than twenty-four hours time. If she loved anyone, then she was sure that she would feel the same. But she didn't, so she could only imagine.

A timid knock sounded at her bedroom door, and the door opened, revealing Sahaim, who had a curious expression on his face, as if he was wondering something. He came over and sat by Rahríténne, who moved up to make space for him.

The reason for the puzzelment on his face was revealed when he asked her about their mother, and the reason that she wanted to be alone in her room. Rahríténne answered this with a simple "she wants to see dad", and Sahaim didn't question this. He accepted it, remembering how truthful his sister was.

His sister, on the other hand, was finding it easier and easier to lie. The thought of this left a bitter taste in her mouth. She didn't want to become a liar.

Before Sahaim could ask her anymore questions, she decided to announce that he was allowed to stay over at a friend's house for a couple of nights. She also warned him that this was a one time only offer.

This had the desired effect, and he forgot about asking his questions.

Instead, he ran round the room a couple of times, before giving Rahríténne a huge hug. She gasped as the air left her lungs, but still smiled at him, glad that he was happy.

Sahaim turned round, and rushed out of the room to start packing for a couple of nights. He couldn't believe his luck; it had always been forbidden for him to even go to friend's houses before, even though they lived just across the road. This would be the first time that he met his friend's parents. He hoped that he would make a good impression.

Figuring that he should warn his friend before coming, he send a message ahead of him, using his Magick. It was the way that they had had been secretly commuicating in, for a while.

After he had sent this, he went to say goodbye to Rahríténne. She told him to have a good time, but she seemed distracted. Shrugging it off, he walked out the door, to meet his friend, just outside of his house.

Rahríténne let out the breath that she had been holding. That was Sahaim out of the way- safe from the terrible truth that would have broken his heart, and rendered his Magick useless. Hopefully, he would never find out the true cause of his father's death, or, even better, he would never find out, and never question it.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the Sahaim that she knew. The boy that she knew would keep on asking questions that would be increasingly difficult to answer. Hopefully she would be able to avoid telling him the truth until he was a lot older.

Going upstairs, she collapsed onto her bed, exhausted. She wanted to escape from the reality of her life, gratefully sinking into a peaceful sleep.

She woke up early the next morning, much to her disgust. She had wanted to sleep as much as possible- to escape from her father's doom. Today was the day that he was fated to die, the day that she and her mother had to watch him being tortured- unable to save him, or even to comfort him.

Padding downstairs, she helped herself to a fruit salad, and began to eat it silently.

When she was halfway through it, her mother came into the kitchen apparently searching for something to eat as well. Rahríténne got another fruit salad, and handed it her mother. She accepted with a brief smile that didn't fit with the shadows clouding her eyes.

Neither of them could finish their meals, so they chucked them away. Rahríténne was glad that she didn't have to eat the food that had tasted like cardboard; her nerves meant that she couldn't taste properly.

They waited, still, for a while longer, before Rahríténne's mother stood up, and used her Magick to show her the time.

Looking at Rahríténne, she began to shake, uncontrollably. Only an hour until the three tortures began.

Rahríténne put her arm around her mother's shoulder, trying to comfort her. Gently, she led her out of the house. Pulling herself together, Ellisia led the way to their destination.

The tortures, and the death of the father was to take place in the pit, the pride and joy of Eris'mal, and the most whispered about place by the Reode Clan. It was a place that had terrifiying stories told about it, and most of them were true.

Eris'mal smirked, surveying the deep pit. There was no way that the traitor would be able to get out, even with Magick. He would die, like he so rightly deserved.

Looking round the tiered stadium surrounding the Pit, he noted that almost all the seats were full, except for the three crucial ones. Two, if you included that fact that he was sitting by the wife and her daughter, to see their reactions.

Narrowing his eyes at the entrance, he wondered if they had deserted the traitor after all. If they had, they would pay for it... with their lives.

But no, they had not. They appeared through the entrance, the woman bloachy-eyed, and the daughter with a furious expression on her face. He made a mental note to watch her- her attitude seemed more treacherous than her mother's.

Causually going over to them, he grinned, and offered to show them to their places. The woman silently nodded, even though her gaze was already fixed on the three chairs in the pride of place. It wasn't hard to see that that was where we were heading - they were the only seats still left.

Rahríténne soothed her mother while they sat down in their places, the worst that they could possibly have. There was a full view of the bottom of the pit, which was too deep for anybody to escape from, even for one as talented at Magick as her Dad. Plus, her father would probably have little energy left to use his Magick to defend himself.

Eris'mal rose to his feet, and turned to face the majority of the crowd, clearing his throat as if to make a speech.

"Fey folk, I welcome you! Today we are gathered here to celebrate the death of a traitor, who collaborated with the dragons, our greatest enemies, to overthrow us!"

A Gasp ran through the audience, accompanied by cries of outrage at the thought of working with the Dragons.

Eris'mal smiled slightly, then continued his speech. "Yes, yes, I am afraid that it is true. The faerie that you will see today has even talked to them, which is absolutely forbidden.

"The Dragons are vile, vicious beasts with one thought circulating round their minds- to destroy Feykind. They are insane, and anyone who thinks that they can communicate with them is a fool, or an idiot, or both. They aren't rational.

"Shall we begin?"

Choruses of 'yes' ran those the audience, rippling like an angry wave. Rahríténne's mother buried her face in her hands. None of these people knew her husband- he would never betray Dhére without reason to.

Eris'mal grinned. "Then let the three punishments commence!"

Cheers rang through the audience as this was said, and as a metal door grindingly lifted up, coming to a stop at halfway.

A faerie was shoved into the Pit from underneath it, crying out in pain as he landed on his side.

Rahríténne winced, as she and her mother, who was crying softly, looked away. She couldn't watch.

But soon curiosity got the better of her, and she turned round to she her father staring up at her. He mouthed the word 'Rít', just before they pulled a sack over his head.

Finally, Rahríténne felt a tear slide down her cheek. Her father was the only one who called her Rít - she couldn't stand it from anybody else.

Her father struggled in the sack, before giving up, and lying limply, not moving. Eris'mal smiled, then declared the start of the first punishment- Rahríténne's father would have his Magick removed.

Three faeries surrounded her father, then began chanting in unison, getting faster and faster as time went on. Screams, yells and pleads for it to stop came from inside the sack. Demagicking was one of the most painful experiences in fey history, for the victim.

Finally, they stopped, and brought him out of the sack, while Rahríténne watched in horror. Her father's happy-go-lucky expression had disappeared, replaced by intense pain. His skin was yellowy pale, and he could barely lift himself up.

Eris'mal felt jubelant at this sight. His plans were working, and the traitor was too weak to defend himself.

"Stage One, Complete," he announced to the roaring audience.

Rahríténne couldn't stop gazing at her father. She knew that he wouldn't be able to fight; he was too weak.

How was he going to survive another two stages, both of them worse than this?

A/N- Poor Rahríténne's father :o

What do you think is going to happen in the next chapter? I'd love to know your thoughts :)

Votes, Comments and Reviews are always really appreciated!

- Hollie