Time became meaningless. Days? Weeks? Months? Alarielle had no way of knowing. Her world was confined to the cold stone walls of the cell, her only company the stale bread and water that occasionally appeared while she slept. Any magic left in her seemed had abandoned her.
The silence was suffocating. She hadn’t heard a voice—not even her own—in so long that she feared she’d forgotten how it sounded.
To keep herself from spiraling into madness, she worked out relentlessly, pushing her body until exhaustion claimed her each time.
Sweat mingled with the grime that coated her skin, but she didn’t care. It was the only way to hold onto the fragile thread of her sanity. And even then, her thoughts were plagued by everything that had happened—everything that didn’t make sense.
Had Zār trul
