~Zirah~
My heart thumps wildly against my rib cage at the sight of so many broken souls, their faces reflecting a deep despair that seemed to have no escape. My heart breaks as I take in this horrific scene, my stomach turning like a thousand daggers piercing through me. It is almost too much to bear, and I canât comprehend such a bleak reality.
âThis is what he didnât want me to see?â I ask, turning to Zeke; he clenches his teeth and nods once.
âNow,â I say, my voice as cold as ice, âI want to know why these people are here.â
The guards share a nervous look before one steps forward, fear making him twitch.
âMiss, these are... these are criminals,â he stammers. Criminals? There are children in these cages!
âCriminals?â I echo, letting my disbelief fill the word. âWhat crimes did they commit?â
The guard gulps, stealing a glance at Zeke before looking back at me. âPetty offenses, miss. Thievery...
vandalism... noncompliance with the rules...â
His words echo in the chilling silence. Noncompliance with the rules? A snort escapes me, bitter and disbelieving.
âAnd littering, miss,â another guard adds in a small voice, as if this justifies everything.
âAnd their punishment?â
âTheyâre on death row, miss,â the words hang heavy in the air, and at first, all I can do is blink at him, praying I heard wrong. I turn to Zeke, his avoidance of my gaze confirming my fear.
âYouâre telling me,â I spit, my hands clenching into fists, âYou lock these people up, sentence them to death... for littering?â
My voice rings out, a sharp note in the quiet afternoon. The guards flinch, their faces pale.
âThatâs not our call, miss,â the first guard responds, his eyes downcast. âItâs the law. We just enforce it.â
âThere are children in there!â My voice is like a thunderclap, my anger erupting and echoing around us as my aura slips out, so powerfully it stuns even me for a second, and both guards whimper.
The cold anger in me boils over. I march over to the fence, magic sparking at my fingertips. âWell, I am making a call. Release them. Now.â
âWe canât miss,â one of the guards says. âWe donât have the keys. Everything is controlled by drones and King Regan. The gates open automatically when... when itâs time.â
The thought of what âtimeâ means for these people churns my stomach. âAnd what happens then?â I demand, my gaze fixed on Zeke. âWhere are they taken?â
The guards glanced at Zeke again, their unease palpable. One of them clears his throat. âThe old mines, miss. Rumor is theyâre thrown down the shafts.â
My heart pounds in my chest. These people, condemned for minor offenses, are led like lambs to the slaughter.
The guards go on to describe a system so robotic, so dehumanizing. The prisoners are herded once a month through the one-way entrance, every door controlled by drones, everything automatic. The prospect of a revolt seems unimaginable, an act of certain death. My hands balled into fists, my mind reeling at the scale of Reganâs tyranny. With a growl, I move toward the fence, determined to find a way to open it and free them.
âYou touch that, you alert him that youâre here; thatâs if someone hasnât called already; they still have a day or so before they are taken,â Zeke warns, his eyes locked on the fences teeming with drones. His words strike me as if he slapped me. He knows of this and has done nothing?
âAnd you allow this?â I snarl, rounding on Zeke. âRegan may be your brother, but that doesnât mean you have to be a part of this.â
âNot my kingdom, Zirah,â he mumbles, but his words fall on deaf ears. âI have no control here.â
âDonât give me that, Zeke! Youâre a king too. And right now, youâre acting like a coward.â
The words hang heavy in the air, a brutal accusation, a line drawn.
âTake me to the castle,â I order, my gaze hardening.
I cast a final glance at the prisoners, my mind buzzing with ways to help them, to overthrow their king and my mate.
After what feels like an eternity, I find myself being driven toward Reganâs castle. Its grandeur leaves me breathless. Yet, what catches my attention is a nondescript concrete structure nearby, with two guards standing stiffly at its entrance.
âWhatâs in there?â I ask, despite the sinking feeling in my stomach.
âNothing you need to see,â Zeke answers, and I glare at him.
I direct the driver to stop, ignoring Zekeâs attempts to dissuade me. The curiosity is too intense, and the need to understand the depth of Reganâs tyranny is too urgent.
As I approach, the guards step forward. âMove aside,â I order, but they lift their guns. âI said move aside,â I bark in a voice that bellows the fear coursing through me.
âThis is Reganâs domain, there is no way you can go in,â one of them replies with steel in his voice, and it brings to mind the guards earlier. Do they genuinely fear him so much that not one person has dared oppose him? âWe were instructed not to let anyone pass,â one of them states, his voice firm.
âI donât care, either step aside or....â I whistle, and Gnash, Hunter, and Shadow step forward; one guard lifts his gun, the other grabbing the end of it. âThatâs Gnash, the Kingâs wolf,â he warns, and the man lowers his weapon like he knows shooting him will earn him a slow, tortured death.
His head cocks to the side, and he adds. âYou leave us no choice; I have to ring the king. King Regan doesnât even allow his brothers down there.â
âCall your king; I will deal with him too,â I state firmly, pushing past the guards who are too shocked to resist. The moment the door swings open, a stench so foul hits me; it feels like a physical blow. The scent of rotting flesh and despair fills my nostrils, making me gag. I follow the steps down; the air is thick and stagnant. As I reach the bottom, I stop at the sound of chains rattling and whimpering in the dark.