ciar-galyna - ❆❦ Ciar ❦❆
❆❦ Ciar ❦❆

Don't know what I'm doing :^She/Her/They/Them - 19

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Latest Posts by ciar-galyna - Page 2

1 year ago

A Court of Shackles and Glass

Chapter One

Word Count : 2.8k

Warning(s) : None

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A Court Of Shackles And Glass

Lyphon

Everything is painfully dark in here. I can't see any of the walls of this damned prison, nor can I even hear anything, not even the whisper of a breeze. I haven't able to since I was locked inside this dreadful place. All my movements are restricted by chains linked to cuffs locked around my ankles, wrists, and wings. By now the feathers have definitely gone dull. No doubt Achlys will pout for weeks about his lost beauty and demand to find Gyn to fix his problems again. I won't lie though, finding Gyn immediately to fix whatever is wrong with me now sounds like a good idea. Assuming I'm even going to be freed from this hell.

It was certainly a bold move on Ulysse's part, a stupid one, but a bolder one than I'm sure any of us could've expected. While it cost us to underestimate him and his ambitions, it will cost him more once we've been freed. Especially when one of us is an expert in anatomy and tends to use psychological warfare more than her actual weapons. They used to say, probably ages ago, to never underestimate the wrath of a Mortis. I can only assume Ulysse went against that warning, since he didn't seem all that concerned about Great Grandpa and his love for his Great Grandchildren. I wouldn't be surprised if Great Grandpa killed him honestly. I'm half expecting to see a grave when we get home.

A sharp, faint ring echoes through this lifeless prison. One that makes my ears twitch, aching to hear anything else. What was the ringing caused by? Is the top finally opening? That makes me excited and afraid. I'll be exposed to light again, and I haven't seen anything remotely bright or dim for who knows how long. I'll need to find Gyn fast, she'll be able to heal any damage, and I'd rather not go blind instantly and eternally.

It feels like ages before there's another faint, echoing ring, followed by another and then another and then another. I have no idea what that sound could be. If it's people, I could be freed. If it's a beast...I'm basically a sitting duck. Damn you Ulysse and your rotten soul. Hissing, I look up, or at least what I think is up, it's hard to tell when everything is pitch black here. The sound is coming from above me, so I'm assuming, and hoping, that I'm not upside down right now. If I strain my ears enough, I can hear something like a voice, or voices. I can't make out exact words, but voices are better than growls or hisses.

A low, aching, and loud groan suddenly sounds, like ancient metal doors scraping and opening against each other, and right in my ears. I wince as I cover my ears, which does very little to help block out the noise, but it's better than nothing I suppose. The groaning on gets higher in pitch until a loud slam echoes in this prison, making my ears ring to the point I'm convinced they'll start bleeding at any moment. Light peers in from above, and despite it being moonlight, it still almost feels blinding. A few tears fall, my eyes burning despite my arms shielding my face now.

Sound floods in more clearly now, no doors are blocking my ears from the outside world. Voices whisper and gossip about what could be in the endless void that is the uncovered cube of ancient metals. Rumours begin to build about the markings on the outside being to protect anyone from a cursed creature inside, how they should shut the doors again. A sense of desperation builds at those words, and whether I know better or not, I call out.

"Don't shut the doors."

There are gasps, a few shrieks. My voice is a little rough from lack of use, but not as bad as I imagined it would be. Soft footsteps approach from above. Two more people have come to watch at the edge, to try and spot where I am. A soft breeze blows in, the coolness practically making me shudder. Wind, finally, I can feel something from outside. But the wind also carries the scents of the two newcomers. One smells of apples and a burning hearth, the other of rain and the earth. The rain and earth smell makes me tense, more alert. It's now I can sense the power, it may have been eternity, but I can still recognize the power and aura of a High Lord.

"Well well..so it appears there is someone down there. Who and what are you? What Court do you reign from?"

One of them speaks, I don't know who that is, but I don't think they're the High Lord, not that I'm feeling lucky at the moment. Still, giving them an answer can lessen suspicion, make me less..dangerous in their eyes maybe. Or, it can make it worse when they won't recognize my name and Court. One answer is better than no answer, if I give nothing they might close the doors, and here I have no windows.

"Lyphon Mortis, son of Erebus Mortis, late High Lord of the End Court, and the younger brother of Achlys and Gyn Mortis."

Silences follows, someone says something low enough I can't catch it. People start moving away, but the doors don't creak, so they're being left open. Something falls and whips the air in here a little, somewhere above my head. The voice from earlier speaks again.

"We're going to need more rope."

Gyn

The entirety of this massive prison groans, metal upset and screaming for whatever is happening to stop. I wince at the sound, but it's better than the random rush of water or incessant, rage-inducing dripping from behind me. My own bones almost groan with the prison, they've been aching for ages now, stuck in an uncomfortable, terrible position. Legs bent and sat on, torso leaning forward, arms stretched to the sides, and wings clamped shut. All limbs chained to the walls, my neck chained to the ceiling, but unable to move from the tightness of the cuffs and taughtness of the chains. My legs beg for me to stand, my back pleading for me to slouch or at least shift, and my precious wings just want to stretch and feel the wind against my feathers again. Oh what I'd give to fly again. And all of my body pleading for me to stop soaking in the water as high as my chest, nearly to my face at this point, some hair dangling and dipping into dark waters. The two wings on the lower end of my back is already half in the water, soaking and making me want to shiver again.

The prison wasn't always this water filled, but slowly it's built up. And given enough time, I'd likely be stuck here, eternally drowning but unable to die. True hell indeed.

With a groan the prison suddenly tilts backwards. Water rushes at me, drenching my entire body and leaving me holding my breath for a moment, then choking and spitting out water for another few. Unfortunately, despite gravity trying to pull me back into the water, now below me, the chains don't allow it, I'm dangling above the water. There's another groan and the prison rights itself, returning to it's original position. I wince and brace myself for the oncoming impact of the rushing, practically tidalwaving, water. There's a loud rush and a strong force hits my wings and head. I nearly black out, but I'm left awake, under water and with a nasty headache. I scream, the sound muffled by the water and turning to bubbles that rush to top. When the water sinks back to chest height my scream echoes, the shrill noise nearly deafening me.

I hack and cough as small droplets rise from my lungs and drip back into the dark, chilly water. I groan, head wanting to hang but instead making the collar choke me. With a wince I right my head again. Air blesses my lungs as the only good thing of today. What the hell was that just now anyways? I can only assume Ulysse made sure this prison was cast underwater, so maybe a large sea creature? No..maybe not..but what else could it be? This prison is ancient and massive, nothing small could move it.

I grunt as the prison moves again, this time there's a draggin sound by the doors ahead of me, something like..sand? Possibly dirt? My body shakes when the prison abruptly stops moving, the chains rattle and clink, swinging for a little bit. The ancient doors that keep me locked in here more than the chains open, light from the day floods in, reaching my knees. The darkness flees from the front, behind me probably becoming ever darker. The sudden brightness makes my vision go white, eyes burning with a pressure behind them that makes a strangled scream escape me. I struggle to turn, to look away, let my eyes adjust and not go blind instantly. A few hot, burning tears fall and quickly slide down my face and neck. All six wings flap violently, trying to free themselves and block the light, protect me, unfortunately it doesn't work. Gods it hurts. Another pained noise comes from my throat, something between a sob and a cry. As much as I'd love to feel embarassed right now, I don't have it in me.

Footsteps approach, swiftly, each one echoing in this hollow chamber. At the sound I realize most of the water has flooded out. Voices shout warnings and commands to stop, to back away and 'get away from them! They could be dangerous'. I wince, twisting my head again, skin scraping against the rough, damp, and cold collar around my neck. My arms pull and push, trying to cover my ears and eyes, it only makes them scrape badly against my shackles though. More tears flow and another mix of a sob and cry echoes in the prison. The footsteps approach faster until some of the light vanishes from my vision, the pressure behind my eyes easing away.

The smell of the sea and lotuses envelops me, catching me a little off guard. The stranger in front of me gently takes my face, turning it back to face forwards again. The first thing I see are bright turquoise eyes, concern is laced in them and I can't help but feel guilty. But at the same time, I'm a little captivated by their eyes. They're a beautiful turquoise, almost like they've captured the sea and trapped them in a pair of eyes. It almost catches my breath, and my wings almost flap a little. They smile slightly, which is when I notice the stranger's dark skin and white hair, I almost smile back.

"Be careful, you're going to hurt yourself..now can you tell me who you are? Where you're from maybe? Or why you're in here?..Do you understand me?"

His voice is soothing, almost melodic. I smile faintly, but for very briefly, I need to give him answers.

"I understand, don't worry. Thank you for the concern..my name is Gyn Mortis. My home is likely not a place you know of, but I'll say anyways. I am from the End Court, it is north of the Night Court. I am in here because my Father, it's former High Lord, died and my cousin imprisoned me and my two brothers in seperate prisons. Rumours had been going around that one of us would inherit the title, so out of jealousy he forced us into these. I do not know how long I have been in here and I can only guess where I am."

I end coughing after speaking. I haven't spoken in a while, nor this much. The stranger pats my back, chuckling a little while looking a bit surprised.

"Easy there, don't push yourself. And I'm sorry, you're right, I don't know of the End Court..but I will try to help you."

I smile a little, nodding and whispering thank you. He turns to call behind him, ordering for a blanket and a locksmith.

Achlys

The flame, small as one on a candle, seems as bright as the sun. I try not to wince or squint, acting like my eyes aren't ready to bleed at the brightness. I'll need to find Gyn, get her to make my feathers beautiful again and fix my broken, breaking eyes. But that'll have to wait until this jackass lets me go.

I sigh as the russet eyed, ruby haired male in front of me stares me down. He and some of his servants had found me and managed to get me out of the damned prison, which immediately returned itself home, no doubt family members will either shout for joy or throw a hissy fit when they're informed of the returned prison. The servants stand a few feet behind the male, heads all facing downwards, all of them apparently finding the dirt ground of the cave fascinating.

Russet eyes squats, the fire right between us now. I opted to sit rather than stand, it seemed more comfortable and I've already had to stand for who knows how long anyways; I was switched between standing and sitting every so often, but for the longest time now I had to stand, making my legs feel weak, tired, and stiff. I could swear he's smirking slightly. It's tempting to just slap him, maybe see how he reacts. I don't, of course, but it's nice imagining it happening.

"Well then, I've freed you, whatever you are. So you owe me one. Now you're going to kill my someone for me."

I narrow my eyes this time, almost tilting my head. If I didn't know any better I'd think I'd returned home with the prison. Of course I was only freed to be indebted to Russet Eyes. I hiss lowly, much to Russet's amusement.

"Don't look so pouty. It's only one life. Besides, it'll probably be easy for you. I doubt they locked up a human in something like your little prison." He smirks again, I almost scowl. "Don't tell me you're nothing but a weakling. Gods, I didn't save someone useless did I? What a waste of effort."

At that I nearly punch him, I'd certainly love the feeling of his face being broken by my fists, blood pouring everywhere. I almost smirk at the thought, that would be wonderful.

"Shut it. I have no doubts I am more powerful than you, nor do I have any doubts that my skill is greatly higher than yours."

He snorts as I stand, moving to leave. If someone hasn't already found my siblings, I might as well find them myself. He stands though, pressing a hand on my chest, just over my heart. A warmth builds until it's borderline burning and there's a chance my shirt is about to be set on fire or start smoking. I glare at him, cracking my neck as I flex my fingers. It's been some time, but now that I'm not trapped in that damning prison I can use my abilities again. It feels good to watch his daggers rise and hover a hair above his scalp, like some mock crown that could kill him at any moment. Though because of how long it's been it's not as stable, some of the daggers occasionally wobbling. Clenching my hands into fists the daggers fix themselves, staying still and perfectly angled to stab into his head. I'm going to need to practice more, make sure I'm back to my original skill and strength again.

Russet raises a brow, humming faintly. "What is your name?..You're not from here, are you?"

"If you're really so curious, red locks, it's Achlys. And I come from hell."

He bristles a little at the nickname, but snickers at my last answer. "Red locks..no. You can call me Fenix Vanserra, welcome to Hell 2.0."

~~~

Hello, thank you for reading this. Feel free to let me know what you think. Have a good day/night. You deserve to be happy.

~~~

P.S. This fanfic is available on Quotev and AO3


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