CHAPTER 2: NO SOUND FROM THE THRONE
1327 Words
CHAPTER 2: NO SOUND FROM THE THRONE
POV: Mira Vale
"Did you hear that, Mira? No one is coming.
His words hurt more than his fist.
People in the crowd lean in. I can feel it—attention tightening like a rope around my neck. One step back is taken by the guard at the edge of the ring. You have permission. The council stays seated, hands still, and faces calm. They look like carvings in stone. It seems like nothing here matters.
The balcony is above them.
The four brothers are standing there.
Kael doesn't look at me again.
The moment lasts. Not kindness. Not hope. Just time, heavy with waiting to be used against me.
This time, my opponent doesn't hurry. He moves around me slowly while I try to get to my knees. Every move hurts my ribs. My vision is blurry, but I keep my head up. I won't let them see me give up.
"Stand," he says, getting bored now.
I push myself up. My legs are shaking. The stone is slippery under my boots and smeared with blood that could be mine or someone else's. Most likely mine.
"Good," he says. "Still obedient."
The word hurts.
He hits without warning. A hard hit to my shoulder sends me sideways. I just barely catch myself before I fall. People in the stands laugh in short, surprised bursts, as if they didn't think I would last this long.
I didn't either.
I move because if I stop, I'll fall apart. I dodge, block, retreat. Every hit makes my arms scream. Every breath hurts. My body feels too small for all this pain, like it might spill out of me if I don’t hold tight.
I glance up again.
The balcony is still the same.
Rian stands with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on the ring, as if he is trying to figure something out. Luca leans forward, his jaw tight and his fingers wrapped around the railing. Silas is harder to see because he is half-shadowed and watching everything and nothing at the same time.
And Kael—
Kael looks away.
Not sharply. Not like he can't stand to see it.
He turns like this is expected.
Like this is needed.
Something cold settles in my chest.
This isn’t about strength.
It never was.
The next hit knocks me down. I slide across the ring, and my skin tears on the stone. When I try to push up, my hands shake. I fail. The sound that leaves me is quiet. I don't like it.
Someone in the crowd whispers, "Stay down." Not nice. Not mean. Just useful.
No, I don't.
I make myself stand up again, even though I'm swaying and blood is dripping from my chin. It feels like I'm underwater, and the world seems far away. Sounds mix together. Faces smear.
My opponent lets out a sigh.
"You're making this harder than it has to be."
He grabs my arm and turns it. Pain hits like a white-hot explosion. He throws me to the ground again, and I scream. For a second, my vision goes black, and then it comes back too bright.
The guard moves again.
The announcer coughs.
The council does nothing.
Silence lasts.
I get it now.
This is the decision.
They decide who is important by being quiet.
My opponent pulls me up by the front of my uniform and makes me stand up. When my knees give out, he grips me harder.
"Look up," he says.
I don't want to.
He slaps me.
The sound cuts through the arena. My head turns to the side. My ears are ringing.
He says, "Look up," again, louder.
Yes, I do.
The balcony is blurry, but I can still see Kael's back.
Not his face.
His back.
The message sinks deep into my bones.
I'm not safe.
I am not chosen.
I am allowed to break.
The crowd gets quiet, as if they can feel the change. This isn't fun anymore. It is a lesson.
The head of the council says, "Go ahead."
This time, my opponent doesn't smile.
He hits me until my body stops doing what it's supposed to do. Until my arms don't come up fast enough. Until my legs don't work like they should.
I fall. I get up. I fall again.
Time stops making sense.
At some point, I can't hear the crowd at all.
There is only pain, breathing, and the weight of eyes.
He kicks me in the side. Something breaks. I yell. The sound comes out of me before I can stop it. Blood and shame fill my mouth.
I curl up without thinking.
"No," he snaps, pulling me up again. "They want to see."
He pushes me back toward the middle of the ring.
I trip.
I don't fall.
That seems to make him angrier than anything else.
"Why won't you stay down?" He asks.
I don't answer.
If I do, I might say something that could hurt someone.
He hits me again.
And again.
Now, every strike is careful. Measured. He knows how far he can go without it ending. He knows the council will let him do it.
This is his prize.
I see Luca leaning forward more and moving his mouth. I can't hear what he says. Rian doesn't move at all. Silas's eyes dart quickly to the council and then back to me.
Kael is still facing away.
I stop keeping track of the hits.
I only think about one thing: standing up.
The ring is blurry. The edges lean. It feels like my heart might burst because it's beating so hard. It's a fight to breathe.
My opponent stops at some point.
He looks at me as if he doesn't get it anymore.
"Why?" he asks again, this time in a softer voice. "You could have given in before this."
"I can't," I say softly.
My voice doesn't sound right. Not thick. Taken off.
For a long second, he looks at me.
He shakes his head then.
"Fine."
He takes a step back.
The arena holds its breath for a second.
Then he runs.
The effect brings us both down. My head hits the stone. Pain blooms, sharp and blinding. I gasp and take in air that won't come fast enough.
He holds me down with his knee on my chest. My lungs hurt. I scratch at his arm, but my fingers slip.
The guard mutters, "Enough," not sure.
The council member raises their hand.
My heart skips a beat.
Then the hand goes down.
"Keep going."
The weight of my opponent goes up. I gasp and choke.
"Say it," he growls. "Say you're weak."
I shake my head.
My vision is getting worse.
"Say it!"
I don't know where the power comes from. It could be anger. It could be pride. It could just be refusal.
I spat blood in his face.
The crowd gasps.
He pulls back in shock. Angry.
Movement above us.
Luca stands up straight.
Rian puts his arms down.
Silas tilts his head.
Kael—
Kael turns around.
He looks into my eyes.
They don't say they're sorry.
Just math.
My opponent wipes his face and breathes heavily. He looks up at the balcony and waits.
Waiting for the go-ahead.
Kael gives it a small nod.
It's clear what the message is.
Finish it.
My opponent grabs me by the throat and pulls me up. My feet hardly touch the ground. The earth turns.
He leans in close and speaks in a low, angry voice.
He says, "This is what silence means." "It means you don't exist."
I have a hard time. I see spots dancing.
Then a voice comes through the crowd.
"Stop."
The word breaks like thunder.
Everyone turns their heads to the balcony.
Finally, Kael Duskwood steps forward. His voice is calm, sharp, and clear.
He says, “Not her. Bring her to me.”
- Writer
