Chains of Moonlight Chapter Nine

If Aesira thought her measure of time passing would get any better while in this dungeon, she’d been sorely wrong.

While the elves always came for her at night, she could not seem to get a grasp of the elves’ schedule. She knew for them their nighttime was her daytime and her nighttime was their daytime. But with all the injuries she sustained while an elf yelled at her in a broken version of her language, she spent most of her time in her cell, sleeping, trying to recover. If she wasn’t having to re-break her own bones when they started to heal incorrectly.

Every so often, there was a healer in the haze, but it was only just enough to keep her alive. She couldn’t entirely say how long she had gone without seeing Veremund after her initial arrival period and after he appeared again.

Had she been in this cell for months? It certainly felt like it.

No matter how stalwartly she kept to her silence in front of the silver-haired elves, they still didn’t kill her. All they did was send in the one elf she had spoken to. She shouldn’t have said anything, but she hadn’t been able to help herself.

He was too good at saying exactly the right thing to get under her skin just enough so her mouth was moving before she could stop it. But even angering him hadn’t been enough.

No matter what she did, the Death Knell never came.

How long would she have to endure this? How long would she waste away in this cell before her Death Knell finally brought her relief?

Now, despite her attempts to reassure herself that there was no possible way the Moon Elves could have gotten a hold of Ragna, Veremund’s words still lingered under her skin.

Was that why she had not died yet?

Because soon enough she would have her dearest friend as a cellmate and then she would have to find a way for them to escape even though she had long since given up on any hope of ever escaping this dungeon herself?

It shouldn’t be possible. Surely, he’d just been saying it to scare her.

But there was no way they could have known her vision of her brother included that. Although, she was Captain of the Guard, it wasn’t a stretch to assume that was something she feared.

And the Moon Elves had already gotten close to capturing Ragna once. And if it had been months, Ragna could be leaving the Sun Elves soon, and they would have their chance to capture her again. And if they did, would they succeed? Or would it be her brother now who was struck down? Or worse, captured?

There was one thing Aesira was certain of. Her brother would have been dispatched immediately to take over as Ragna’s Captain of the Guard.

Maybe it hadn’t been a vision of her fears, but of the future, from Lady Fate herself.

But there was nothing Aesira could do about it. Nothing she’d done so far had worked. No matter how useless she was to them, they were keeping her alive. No matter how much she infuriated Prince Veremund, he didn’t strike her down. If in the following days, they opened up the doors and Ragna or her brother, or worse, both, were brought in and tortured in front of her, could she still keep their secrets?

She held her breath every time the doors opened, watching with one eye open, but her face was obscured either by her wings or her mess of hair. Every time, it was always the guards with the scraps that made up her rations and just enough water to keep her alive.

She’d lost much of her muscle and strength already. If this kept on, she’d die simply of malnourishment. If they really wanted to keep a valkyrie alive, at some point, they were going to have to feed her more. Even with what they gave her, she was still starving.

Maybe that would finally bring her Death Knell to her.

She was dozing on her front, waiting for the other prince to come for her again when the doors opened. This time, it wasn’t just the sound of boots and clinking keys. There was the sound of a muffled voice, gagged, and a few deep grunts.

She dug her hands into the straw beneath her. It sounded masculine.

How long had it been? Had Prince Veremund had enough time to go mount another attack to capture Ragna? Was her brother about to be shoved through the door?

She held her breath. The guards came through the doors. Someone was between them. All the air left her in a soft whoosh. They had no wings.

It was nighttime, so while the elves the Moon Elves could see better, she couldn’t make much out. Whoever they had was struggling hard against the guards. Chains rattled and his voice kept trying to escape past the gag in his mouth, but what he was saying was unintelligible. Or maybe it was just because it certainly wasn’t her language.

She stayed perfectly still, only watching what she could from her position, prone on the floor. The make of his clothes wasn’t the same as the guards or any of the Moon Elves that she had observed. But they weren’t valkyrian either. What was he? A human? One of the other elves? Something else entirely?

Why had they gone to the trouble of keeping him alive too?

Finally, despite his fighting, he was shoved into the cell across from hers. He hit the ground with a thud, only managing to get one arm under him to break his fall after the cuffs were removed. He reached up, removing the gag as the door clicked shut and the guards began walking away. He called out after them in a rapid-fire sequence, of what she presumed were insults, but she couldn’t be certain. He grabbed at the bars, still trying to yell after them, even though they were long gone.

Great. While she was grateful it wasn’t anyone she cared about, gone was her peace and quiet in between agonizing sessions of interrogations. Finally, he sat back and she was able to take a better look at him in the moonlight. His hair was not nearly as long as most of the Moon Elves’. It fell below his shoulders, but not all the way to the middle of his back, a mixture of black at the top and gold at the bottom. If that didn’t give him away, his pointed ears did.

He certainly was no human. He was a Sun Elf.

But the real question was, why had the guards put him in the cell across from hers? They should have them on opposite ends of the dungeon. For as far as they were concerned, Aesira and this elf could know each other, or at the very least start scheming together as allies against the Moon Elves.

Although maybe they were just confident enough in their security not to fear such a thing.

Or it meant now that they had something else to torture… Aesira’s time was up.

Still, she stayed where she was. She could not bring herself to care. She just wanted the nightmare to be over.

Finally, he sat back on his heels, still hanging onto the bars. He didn’t look nearly as rough as she did, but he still sported a few scrapes, dirt across his skin, and several bruises. his gaze landed on her. He called out in his language. Thankfully, Aesira’s Iubian Elvish was better than her Lunian Elvish. “Valkyrie? Are you alive?”

She just closed her eyes and stayed still. If he thought she was dead, maybe he would be quiet.

He switched to her language, but his accent was thick and the more guttural words stuck in his throat as he said, “Valkyrie? You are—Breathing?”

She held her breath.

The soft sound of his breathing and his boot scuffing the ground filled the air.

He switched again to Lunian Elvish. “Hey! Guards—”

Aesira drew her wings back and pushed herself up so she could look directly at him, snapping at him in Iubian Elvish, “Keep it down.”

He switched back to his native dialect, sitting back on his heels, cloak pooling on the floor as he stared at her through the bars. “You are alive then. Or a convincing ghost.”

She crawled onto her knees, trying to find a semi-comfortable position. She settled for leaning her head on her knees and sweeping her good wing in a protective half-shell, showing only her face to the Sun Elf.

She imagined the only reason there weren’t guards stationed on the interior and only had infrequent patrols inside was because half the time they forgot she was down there because of how quiet she was. The last thing she needed was for this Sun Elf to make a racket and ruin the little pockets of peace she had by summoning guards.

She shifted so she could lean her head against the bars, able to keep one eye on the Sun Elf, but look like she was dozing again beneath her wing. She muttered, “Quiet. Please.”

“Can you blame me for being concerned? With the state you’re in anyone would assume you were dead.”

And yet no Death Knell.

“Quiet, stranger. No cause for concern.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t seen your reflection then lately?”

Was she using the wrong word? Or did he just not know the meaning of the word in his tongue?

She sighed and curled her good wing closer, shivering slightly. Even with her wings doing their best, she could never get warm enough in the dungeon.

When she didn’t respond, he finally sat down fully, stretching his long legs out as he shifted to the side, almost mirroring her, but not quite. He leaned his head against the bars, golden brown eyes still staring right at her. “I’m lucky the guards were too lazy to put me on the other end. You’d think they’d want the extra steps when patrolling and bringing meals, but I guess laziness is universal.”

Aesira glared at him. “I wish they had.”

He raised an eyebrow and pressed his palm to his heart. “Ouch. And here I thought I had an ally. Maybe they put me here by you as their first method of torture.”

“If anything, you are here to torture me,” Aesira muttered.

“Or both. Maybe they’re not lazy at all and are far more devious than I gave them credit for.” He shook his head. “It would be more my luck.”

“You’re in good spirits for a prisoner.”

His face screwed up slightly as he shot her a harsh look. “That was when I thought I had an ally.”

Just because their people were allies outside this palace didn’t mean anything. They were strangers. He could be anyone. He could be anything. A liar. Selfish. Someone who would betray her and condemn her just to spare himself a few seconds of pain.

She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t afford to.

Aesira shut her mouth and closed her eyes. He’d give up eventually. Or maybe they’d be back to take him and she’d get to go longer without being interrogated.

Was it awful of her to want him to be under their blades and fists just to spare herself? Probably.

But Aesira couldn’t feel anything other than pain as of late, so she couldn’t bring herself to feel any guilt over it either. Better him than her.

Or maybe, now that they had him, they’d give up on her and it would finally be over. He could suffer and she could be put out of her misery.

She could die with honor.

“What have they done to you?”

His whispered voice broke through the silence again. When she opened her eyes, she could see the soft horror in his.

This elf had no idea what he was in for.

Aesira’s heart rattled in her chest.

She lifted her head, letting her hair fall away. Her voice cracked. “Do you really want to know?”

His hand curled into the bar again, knuckles whitening as he swallowed and gave her a little nod. “Yes.”

She shifted closer to the bars and faced him directly, curling her wings tightly around her, so she was only feathers and face. Her wings were both the most powerful and most fragile part of her body. They were the only armor she had left.

“If you’re here… it means they think you know something they want to know. They will stop at nothing to get it from you.”

“What…” He took a deep breath. “What should I be prepared for?”

She didn’t have to trust him. But she wasn’t sure what was worse for him. Knowing exactly how awful it was about to be? Or the terror of the unknown?

But if he wanted to know…

“If you mean, do they mostly use magic or physical means? It will be both. I don’t know if their magic will be less effective on you than me. Either way, it won’t stop them from using as much agony as your body can take to try to break you. If you can focus on anything other than the pain you’re in, someone, most likely the silver-haired prince or a translator will be shouting questions at you in your tongue, promising it all stops if you answer.” She took a deep breath and fixed him with a stern look. “Do not believe them. Whatever they want to know, do not give it to them. If you have even the faintest scrap of loyalty to your people or even just a shred of hate for the Moon Elves trying to put you and all the elves you care about beneath their heel, you will not give them what they seek.”

“How bad is the physical?”

She shrugged. “They’re not clever. Cuts placed strategically not to kill you but to hurt you. Fists. Broken bones. More for me than you, I suspect. Yours will not break so easily. They threaten to cut things off, but have yet to do so. That might be next for me if their current scheme fails. The other prince, Prince Veremund, if I see him again, he’ll be cutting my wings off my back.”

The poor Sun Elf had the back of his hand braced against his lips, looking ready to lose the contents of his stomach. “You really think so?”

She shrugged, brushing the tips of her wings against the dirt. “Nothing else has worked for them. If they cannot get a hold of anyone I love, that’s all they have left before they finally end me.”

“Do you… If they say they’ll spare your wings if you talk, would you?”

She shook her head. “Never. Even if I did, they’ll take them anyway. And what will I have then? No wings, no loyalty to my people, no honor. Better dead than that.”

He let out a slow breath, grip on the bars easing. “You really think the Moon Elves are so devoid of honor they wouldn’t keep their word?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I pity whoever’s secrets you have to keep because with an attitude like that, you will be spilling them on the floor before you even lose a cup of blood.”

He nodded. “You’re right. That’s foolish to believe. What’s worse the physical or the magical?”

“The magical—” Her voice cracked. She just closed her eyes and buried her head into her knees. “I can’t—I can’t describe it—”

“It’s alright—” His voice came out in a rush. She looked up to see he’d shifted closer, gripping the bars again. “You don’t have to. Thank you. Really, thank you.”

She just sniffed, nails digging into her own skin.

He smiled weakly at her. “I’m Ulkos by the way.”

She took a deep breath. “Aesira.”

His smile grew bigger. “That’s a beautiful name.”

Her lips twitched for a brief moment before she curled back up in her corner to doze and pretend her whole body wasn’t still aching. She pressed her forehead into the stone.

She’d told him only because she pitied him. She certainly didn’t trust him no matter how genuine he seemed. He could be the best elf on the continent, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t also going to be sighing in relief when the guards came for her cell and not his.

Just like she would be doing for his.

* * *

Thanks for reading Chapter Nine of Chains of Moonlight! Read Chapter Ten here!

Find all the chapters here!

Pre-order a paperback of Chains of Moonlight here!

Pre-order book 1, Bride of Moonbeams and Betrayal here!