She had to stay strong.
Fen'nan repeated this notion in her head over and over as she knelt upon stone, hard stone digging into thin knees, and felt the weight of the crowds stare bare down upon her. The iron shackles weighed coldly and heavily upon her wrists and it surprised her how familiar they felt. Her actions. Her doing. Her fight.
She had to stay strong, she thought, as she eyed the two guards retrieve the bucket, a bucket filled with hot tar, ready to assault and singe her. But she had been through worse. She had survived. She was a survivor. A damn fighter.
So she lifted her gaze to the crowd, blue-green gaze burning bright, fierce defiance clear on her features. She didn't dare bring herself to glance at those who watched in dismay, horror written over her friends faces. She would endure this. For them.
She would not break. She would not break. Fen'nan Solaveira would not break.
And then the tar poured down her neck, seeking into her back, her flesh, hot, burning, scalding her. She hated herself for the scream she emitted, echoing across Greygate crowd. Filled with pain she could never bring herself to imagine. It ripped into her, melting her. Her whole body burned. It made her want to curl into a ball, made her want to scream and scream and scream until she blacked out. Until she never felt this way again. She fought a sob down in her throat.
Until it was over.
But she didn't. She cracked her eyes open to stare over the friends that watched on, dismay and horror in their faces. For them she would endure it. Breathe it. Absorb it. She hardly felt the feathers sprinkled over her panting form, not over the burning rage that bursted in her chest, made her tremble. Louder then the crowd. Louder than the burning pain. A writhing beast inside that wanted to tear free from inside her, roaring in her ears.
She barely registered that she'd stood up, that the shackles had been removed, the guards voices hardly hit her. She could go. It was over. Her legs trembled, so did her hands. She didn't know if it was the pain or the anger. But she knew it was the fire now raging inside her that set her moving, her shoulders squaring, lifting her chin as she stepped down the stairs towards the crowd. As if she wore a crown and not a brand on her shoulder, not scalded flesh and clinging feathers. The cost of the near impossible cause she clung to. She would never stop.
The Altalar held no wicked grin, none of her usual swagger. But she did not slouch. Did not weep. Fen'nan held that unyielding face of unwavering defiance as she stepped her way through the crowd, gaze never landing on any individual. Hard-faced with eyes of molten lava. Unbroken. Every step, every breath, hurt. Was more painful than she'd ever dare show. She felt their eyes on her. But she did not care. Let them see, she thought. Let them know Regalia's methods. Let them see she would not break. Not for them. Let them celebrate her suffering. Let them hate.
They could all go to the void for her care.
Regalia could too, with its twisted system, corrupt powers and people.
Fen'nan stepped past the group near the gates and paused. Feel the weight of her friends stares. Feel the heaviness that wore down on her because of it. A weight in her shoulders, but she kept her shoulders squared, through the pain, the shame and humiliation. They were no set group that stared at her now in wait for her words, an action. A Brood. A Sihndar. Allar, Sihai, the list wore on, those that would support her. For them she fought. For the people that could not speak up. For the people that had suffered as she had suffered. For the people who believed in the ways she believed.
People with shattered hopes and hearts. Dreams broken and smashed by those bigger that could so easily take the little they had. People with phantom pains and memories from the people they could not fight against, lift a finger to. For them she fought. She would endure. She would not break. It was a steady war cry in her heart, a drum beating over and over again. She would not break. She would not break.
She had to stay strong for them. Never let them see how much it hurt. How breaking it was. Fen'nan looked over her shoulder, at her friends, allies, people that seemed so small in the world that was Regalia, her people. The steely strength in her voice surprised even her.
"I'm going home."
The words were simple, but a beckoning. Fen'nan didn't wait. Didn't pause as she stepped into the bridge then, walking into the night. Feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. The scalding, burned flesh at her back, her neck, legs. The crowds hate, joy, disgust and pity following her. But she did not have to look back.
Did not have to look back to know they followed her into the darkness, to the light that would welcome them home.
Fen'nan repeated this notion in her head over and over as she knelt upon stone, hard stone digging into thin knees, and felt the weight of the crowds stare bare down upon her. The iron shackles weighed coldly and heavily upon her wrists and it surprised her how familiar they felt. Her actions. Her doing. Her fight.
She had to stay strong, she thought, as she eyed the two guards retrieve the bucket, a bucket filled with hot tar, ready to assault and singe her. But she had been through worse. She had survived. She was a survivor. A damn fighter.
So she lifted her gaze to the crowd, blue-green gaze burning bright, fierce defiance clear on her features. She didn't dare bring herself to glance at those who watched in dismay, horror written over her friends faces. She would endure this. For them.
She would not break. She would not break. Fen'nan Solaveira would not break.
And then the tar poured down her neck, seeking into her back, her flesh, hot, burning, scalding her. She hated herself for the scream she emitted, echoing across Greygate crowd. Filled with pain she could never bring herself to imagine. It ripped into her, melting her. Her whole body burned. It made her want to curl into a ball, made her want to scream and scream and scream until she blacked out. Until she never felt this way again. She fought a sob down in her throat.
Until it was over.
But she didn't. She cracked her eyes open to stare over the friends that watched on, dismay and horror in their faces. For them she would endure it. Breathe it. Absorb it. She hardly felt the feathers sprinkled over her panting form, not over the burning rage that bursted in her chest, made her tremble. Louder then the crowd. Louder than the burning pain. A writhing beast inside that wanted to tear free from inside her, roaring in her ears.
She barely registered that she'd stood up, that the shackles had been removed, the guards voices hardly hit her. She could go. It was over. Her legs trembled, so did her hands. She didn't know if it was the pain or the anger. But she knew it was the fire now raging inside her that set her moving, her shoulders squaring, lifting her chin as she stepped down the stairs towards the crowd. As if she wore a crown and not a brand on her shoulder, not scalded flesh and clinging feathers. The cost of the near impossible cause she clung to. She would never stop.
The Altalar held no wicked grin, none of her usual swagger. But she did not slouch. Did not weep. Fen'nan held that unyielding face of unwavering defiance as she stepped her way through the crowd, gaze never landing on any individual. Hard-faced with eyes of molten lava. Unbroken. Every step, every breath, hurt. Was more painful than she'd ever dare show. She felt their eyes on her. But she did not care. Let them see, she thought. Let them know Regalia's methods. Let them see she would not break. Not for them. Let them celebrate her suffering. Let them hate.
They could all go to the void for her care.
Regalia could too, with its twisted system, corrupt powers and people.
Fen'nan stepped past the group near the gates and paused. Feel the weight of her friends stares. Feel the heaviness that wore down on her because of it. A weight in her shoulders, but she kept her shoulders squared, through the pain, the shame and humiliation. They were no set group that stared at her now in wait for her words, an action. A Brood. A Sihndar. Allar, Sihai, the list wore on, those that would support her. For them she fought. For the people that could not speak up. For the people that had suffered as she had suffered. For the people who believed in the ways she believed.
People with shattered hopes and hearts. Dreams broken and smashed by those bigger that could so easily take the little they had. People with phantom pains and memories from the people they could not fight against, lift a finger to. For them she fought. She would endure. She would not break. It was a steady war cry in her heart, a drum beating over and over again. She would not break. She would not break.
She had to stay strong for them. Never let them see how much it hurt. How breaking it was. Fen'nan looked over her shoulder, at her friends, allies, people that seemed so small in the world that was Regalia, her people. The steely strength in her voice surprised even her.
"I'm going home."
The words were simple, but a beckoning. Fen'nan didn't wait. Didn't pause as she stepped into the bridge then, walking into the night. Feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. The scalding, burned flesh at her back, her neck, legs. The crowds hate, joy, disgust and pity following her. But she did not have to look back.
Did not have to look back to know they followed her into the darkness, to the light that would welcome them home.
