Lysida•
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Pain. More pain.
That's the first thing I register. A sharp, burning pain in every bone of my body, like my flesh is trying to peel itself away. I groan, my head lolling forward, and that's when I realize—I can't move.
I'm chained.
My wrists are locked in thick, iron cuffs, my ankles the same. Heavy chains wrap around my body, biting into my skin, keeping me bound to a massive stone throne. But it's not just any throne.
It's a mountain. I am sitting atop a jagged peak in the center of the battlefield, chained like an offering to the gods. The air reeks of iron and rot, and the atmosphere feels... sad.
Below me, a war rages, fiercely. Massive wolves—larger than anything I have ever seen in my life, larger than any logical existence—tear into each other. Their howls rip through the night like battle drums, their claws slicing through flesh, their fangs snapping bones as if they're just dry thin twigs. Blood pools into the soil, staining it a deep, unnatural bloody black.
I have never seen wolves this big. These can't be normal wolves. They're are giants. Monsters. Beasts born from nightmares.
My heart is pounding so hard I think it might burst. I try to move, but the chains don't even budge. My limbs are heavy, my body unnaturally weak, as if something is draining me.
And then I feel it. The moon.
Its silvery rays shine directly onto me, like a dark celestial spotlight, and with every second it lingers on me, my strength seeps away, and every beam feels like a needle under my nails. My bones throb, my muscles tremble, and then— A sharp pain slices through my eyes. I scream like I'm facing death.
My vision blurs, and I feel something warm trickle down my cheeks... It smells like copper. My hands instinctively try to reach my face, but the chains hold them down. But I don't need to see to know— It's blood. My eyes are fucking bleeding.
Terror grips me, so fierce I nearly lose control of my body. My breathing is ragged, my chest rising and falling way too fast for my liking. My stomach twists, nausea churning deep inside me. The battlefield below rages on, but the sounds start to muffle, drowned out by the full force of my panic.
I don't understand. What is happening? Why am I here? What is this place?
I was sleeping in my bed, I was in my home in Switzerland. Now, I am in a world of werewolves? I don't even know if it's still a dream at this point...
The pain grows unbearable. My body feels like it's breaking under the weight of the moon's energy, like my very existence is being burned away. My vision darkens, my throat clenches, and before I know it, I'm choking.
A violent cough racks through me, and something thick and metallic spills from my lips.
Blood. Again.
It dribbles down my chin, staining my cloth, and then darkness swallows me whole.
• • • • •
I wake up to wood. The scent of damp earth and old, rotting wood fills my nose before my eyes even open. My body aches like I've been trampled by a herd of bulls.
I try to move, but something holds me down.
I snap my eyes open, panic surging through me. I'm in a cage—a wooden one, ancient-looking, its bars thick and reinforced with iron. My hands and legs are still bound by those damn chains, again.
I sit up too fast, and dizziness slams into me like a boulder. My stomach churns, but I fight it down, because this is worse.
The air is heavy. It feels wrong. I can barely see beyond the bars, but what little I can make out is enough to set my nerves on fire. The world outside is dark, eerie, and silent.
A dead silence.
I swallow, my throat dry. Fear bounds me tighter than the chains, squeezing.
Where the hell am I?
I pull against the chains, desperate, frantic. But the second my skin touches the iron, a jolt of white-hot pain shoots up my arms.
I scream.
The pain is instant, burning, crippling. My body convulses, my muscles locking up before the sensation fades, leaving me gasping.
I bite my lip to keep from crying. No. No, I need to think.
I need to scream for help. Yes, that's what I need to do. Then maybe I'd be forced to wake up from this horrible, traumatizing dream.
"HELP!! Someone please help me!" My lungs burn, but I scream louder. "Hello! Is anyone out there?!"
A shadow moves, and I hear footsteps. I stick my head through the cage, my pulse hammering.
Someone is coming. Hopefully it's help.
The cage door creaks open, and a figure steps inside.
It's a young man. He looks around my age, tall, lean but strong, his dark unkept hair falling messily over his forehead. His eyes are golden and sharp, and his attire is unlike anything I've seen before... they look like centuries old clothing, dull, just like mine. Looking back at his eyes, they lock onto me, filled with something I can't quite place.
Surprise?
"Hey" he says softly, as if afraid I might break. "What's wrong?"
What's wrong? Everything!
I almost laugh. Instead, I shove back against the cage wall, my breath wild. "Where am I? What is this place? I— I was in my bed! And now I'm here and—"
I'm rambling. I can't stop. I need answers, I'm losing my mind.
But as I speak, the man's face shifts—from surprise, to shock, to something almost like excitement?
Is this dude crazy?
And then, as if realizing something, his expression hardens. He leans in, his voice taking an urgent tone "Listen to me. Keep your voice down and act mute."
I freeze. "What?"
"Don't tell anyone you're not the real Lysida. If they find out..." He exhales sharply. "She will definitely kill you"
His words rock me to my bones. Not the real Lysida? Who will kill me? What does that even mean?
I shake my head. "But my name is Lysida."
The man stiffens. For a moment, he just stares at me, searching my face. Then he mutters, "That makes no sense..."
"What makes no sense?! What is going on and who are you?" I refuse to keep shut.
He flinches. "Shhh. I'm DrKon"
He gently passes the cloth bag he was holding "Here, eat something, so you can regain your strength"
I peek inside. All I see is a jaggery piece of brown bread and a jar of water. Still, my stomach growls, but I push it away. "Not until you tell me what's going on."
He steps back, rubbing his jaw, thinking. Thinking hard. Finally, he sighs. "I'll explain later. For now, just trust me. I mean you no harm"
I don't know why, but I kinda believe him. He feels... familiar. The same way that wolf did.
"Please" He pleads with sad eyes.
The chills from the cold dig deeper into my skin "Okay"
He exhales. "Thank you. Now, take this." He presses a smooth red stone into my palm. Instantly, the pain in my body dulls.
I frown "What is this?"
"It contains my blood. It will help with the beating" he says.
I look at him, confused "beating?"
His face flickers with pain and regret. "You're likely going to get flogged for fainting in the battlefield"
The bottom of my stomach drops. Before I can ask more, we hear footsteps coming.
DrKon's face hardens. "Remember to stay calm and always act mute"
And then he's gone.
Seconds later, the owners of the footsteps arrive. They are four hulking guards, followed by a woman dressed in black robes, her sharp, aged face twisted in a cruel way. She raises a hand, murmuring an incantation.
The cage lifts, floating in mid air.
I suck in a sharp breath, biting my tongue to keep myself from screaming. My fingers grip the blue stone and fear pulses through me.
What sort of sorcery is this?
She gives me one more dirty glance, before spitting "Time to return to the pack house"
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