Chapter 86: Chapter 86

"And you, little princess." His tone softened unnervingly, almost fond. "You’ve caused us quite a stir since awakening from your... coma. Something about you seems different, doesn’t it? Yet you keep that happy, docile mask so well."

Her stomach dropped. ’Did they know? Did he suspect?’

She felt the phantom weight of Emily—the girl she once was—clashing against the name Evelisse, against the fragile role she played now. She forced her lips to stay sealed, her eyes wide with trembling innocence.

The messenger leaned closer, still holding Caelith’s battered body aloft with invisible force. "But oh, you wear your mask well. Docile. Obedient. So very *cute.*" His voice hardened, dripping with scorn. "Stay that way. Be the lamb you pretend to be. It will make the final act all the sweeter."

His laugh cut through the air, jagged and wrong, scraping across Evelisse’s nerves. She flinched, every instinct in her screaming to *run,* but her legs refused her.

Evelisse’s fists clenched so tightly her nails dug crescents into her palms. Rage and terror warred inside her, but her body still refused to move. She could only watch as Caelith, bruised and bleeding, still tried to glare at their enemy through the haze of pain.

"You’ll never..." Caelith coughed, blood staining his teeth. "...break us."

The messenger tilted his head, amused by the boy’s stubborn spark. "Oh, you’ll burn brightly enough... before you’re snuffed out."

Caelith’s body twitched weakly in the air. Evelisse’s throat burned. She wanted to close her eyes, to hide from the sight of his bruised skin, the blood at the corner of his mouth, but she couldn’t. If she looked away, it would feel like she was abandoning him.

The boy’s lips parted. A faint whisper slipped past bloodied teeth: "Run... Evelisse..."

Her breath caught. She shook her head violently, tears spilling. "No! I won’t leave you!"

The messenger chuckled at the exchange. "Adorable. Truly. But you misunderstand your part, child. There is no running. Not for either of you."

He snapped his fingers. Caelith dropped like a stone, slamming against the polished floor with a choked cry. For more chapters visit noᴠelfire.net

Evelisse lurched forward with a strangled gasp, but the hooded figure’s boot pressed down against Caelith’s chest before she could reach him. The boy arched under the weight, struggling for air.

"No!" Evelisse shrieked. "Stop, please, he’s just, he’s just a boy!"

The messenger crouched, tilting his head at her. "And you are just a girl. And yet..." His tone darkened, venom lacing every syllable. "The fate of kingdoms rests on the fragility of children. How poetic."

Caelith coughed, wheezing under the pressure, but his hand moved. Slowly, painfully, he groped at his belt—his dagger, still sheathed.

The messenger noticed, of course. His laughter rolled low, cruel. "Still fighting? Remarkable." With one swift movement, he kicked the dagger away, the clatter echoing across the chamber like a death knell.

"No!" Evelisse cried again, but it came out as a sob.

The cloaked figure grabbed Caelith by the collar, lifting him effortlessly from the ground as though he weighed nothing. He dangled the boy like a discarded doll, turning so Evelisse could see every inch of his bruised, battered form.

"Look at him," the man said. "Your guardian. Your shadow knight. So young. So weak. And yet..." He shook Caelith sharply, eliciting a strangled cry. "...he believes he can protect you."

Evelisse’s vision blurred with tears. She wanted to scream, to fight, to *do something*. But she was trapped in helplessness, her small body trembling, her heart breaking with every slam of Caelith’s body against stone.

Inside, she screamed a thousand prayers: ’Please let him live, please let me trade places, please let this end!’, but the hall only echoed with the laughter of the hooded man and the ragged gasps of a boy too brave for his years.

Her teeth sank into her lip until she tasted copper. Endure? Watching Caelith break apart before her eyes? How?

The messenger must have sensed her turmoil, because he leaned closer to Caelith’s ear but kept his voice loud enough for her to hear.

"You resist me well, little prince. That divine spark in your blood, it shines brighter than most. But no spark lasts forever. And when you burn out, what will she have left?"

Caelith’s head lolled, his strength ebbing, but his eyes, half-lidded, trembling, still sought hers. Still tried to shield her with his gaze.

Something cracked inside her.

"Please!" Evelisse cried, her voice raw. "If it’s me you want, take me! Leave him alone!"

The cloaked man froze. Slowly, his hooded face turned toward her. Though she could not see his eyes, she felt the weight of them bore into her.

"Oh...?" he purred. "So the lamb bares her throat at last."

He released Caelith. The boy crumpled to the floor, groaning faintly.

Evelisse rushed toward him on instinct, but before she could touch him, the messenger’s shadow stretched unnaturally long, snaring around her ankles like shackles. She stumbled, gasping, trapped.

The man bent low, his hood inches from her face. "Do you mean it, little one? Would you trade yourself to spare him?"

Fluffy shook its head, gesturing she needs to buy herself some time and an excuse to make this messenger leave for the time being.

Evelisse’s lips trembled. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to scream it. But Fluffy’s warning echoed in her head, blaring like a bell. If she surrendered now—if she offered herself up—she would be giving away more than her body. She would be handing them her secret, her strange, foreign soul.

Her silence stretched.

The messenger laughed softly, mockingly. "No answer? How disappointing, little one. You might have made this interesting."

He rose again, cloak whispering against the floor. His gaze swept over them both—the boy broken but unbowed, the girl trembling but unbroken.

"Very well," he said coldly. "My master has no need of your corpses. Not yet. Consider this... rehearsal. The final act will come soon enough."