12. Seren
SEREN
I wake to the sound of chains.
Not loose, not rattling, but taut. Stretched so tight they seem ready to sing a final note of capture. The metal is cold and unyielding against my skin, thrumming with a low, metallic pulse.
My world goes dark behind clenched eyelids. Red lines burn strong in the gloom, as I try desperately to shake away the dream, but it’s no use. I can’t tell what’s real anymore.
Something has settled in me, turning me into the host of a rot I don’t recognise. The Seren I was, feels lost. Gone. Dissolved into the black ink of this new, terrifying self.
I try to jerk upright, to see the face of my captor, but the silver manacles drag me back down, pinning me against the bed of dark green leaves that blanket the ground. My shadows surge in response, but the moment they brush the metal they shriek back to me, as if smothered. Caged.
A nauseous shudder ripples through me at the sight. The manacles don’t just hold the shadows; they crush them, pinching the ink-black tendrils until I can feel the phantom pain in my own wrists.
Darkness falls over me as the figure blots out the green light emitting from the hanging death-apples.
Like two coins of polished silver, his eyes gleam behind gold-rimmed spectacles; a sharp, cold light glinting beneath the shadows of his hood.
His presence presses down harder than the bindings, and for a moment, I can’t think. Can’t breathe.
“Don’t bother struggling,” he says, his voice low and flat. “The restraints were made for your kind.”
My kind.
The words slice deep, a lifetime of ostracism eating into the wound.
I fight against the dryness in my throat as my words find purchase against some fragment of saliva. “Who are you?”
His face bears the contempt his voice wishes to speak. He doesn’t answer, not with a name anyway.
Instead, he grabs the chain between my wrists and hauls me to my feet with an ease I didn’t expect. His breath washes over me as we come face to face. A distinct scent of warm, honeyed light with a hint of cured leather—chemical against the Hollow stink.
The manacles flare as if sensing the primal urge to resist. Searing heat lashes my skin, and my knees nearly buckle.
“You’re coming with me,” he growls into my face.
My voice breaks, half snarl, half plea. “Where?”
His grip tightens as his gaze looks to the world above. The corner of his lip curls, exposing perfectly straight, white teeth.
“No! I can’t—”
His grin widens, revealing more than just a smile; but a glimmer of something cold and calculating. The chain between my wrists jerks and I stumble forward, until he’s dragging me through the blackened forest like an animal. Like the monster that I feel.
“Wait! My bags—” I struggle, fighting against the chains back to where they lie. “I need them.” He chuckles as if I’ve just said something worthy of his response. “Not where you’re going you don’t.”
I resist, trying desperately to claw back to my life littering the ground like trash; the sketchbook to my soul, the last of my money, Da’s picture, their rings. Left to the earth, with no home to claim them. Like me.
A heavy sense of resignation settles deep, as I bow to the inevitable truth: there is almost nothing left to cling to.
He pulls again, but this time I don’t resist. I watch the remnants of my life shrink until they’re nothing but needles within a haystack.
* * *
The Hollow greets me with noise and smoke.
Giggles float in the air as children run through the waste-filled streets like they’re lush, floral fields. Not a care in the world for their unfortunate conditions, their naivety might be infectious—if I wasn’t being marched to my fate.
But the moment gazes land on us, conversations choke, feet shuffle away, and faces vanish into doorways.
Whispers of those remaining cut through the silence like knives.
“It’s her—the girl with the shadows,” a greying woman mutters to someone who appears to be, her husband.
“Let the Luminaries deal with her, we don’t need another war,” he offers in reply.
“She might be—”
“Ssh woman!” The man snaps, trying hard to keep his voice contained, but to no avail.
I bite my tongue until I taste blood. Every step is agony, unrelenting and shameful. For years, I’ve kept myself apart, living a life of solitude for fear of being ridiculed for being different. And here I am, having it displayed willingly for all to see.
Da would be ashamed.
I wrench against the bindings, the shadows mirror my struggle down below; writhing at my feet, desperate for escape. They hate the attention just as much as I do. The moment they brush the glowing runes, they recoil in a hiss of smoke. I bite back a cry as the burn sears into my skin.
My discomfort does nothing to the stranger, as he pulls his reins tighter, his mouth curling into a lazy smile as his gaze tracks those surrounding us.
“Please…you don’t have to do this,” I hiss, my voice wavering from the pain I desperately want to release.
He glances back, his spectacles lowering slightly at the motion as his silver eyes turn cold as winter. “Oh, but I do.”
With tear-filled eyes, I look out to the gaunt faces lining the streets as I make my walk of shame.
A sea of downcast faces stare back at me; glassy eyes glisten with unshed tears, furrowed brows of those who avert my gaze, children’s vacant expressions remain devoid of emotion as my world crumbles around them.
A woman stands with her daughter pulled in close, the corners of her mouth pulled down at the sides, her lip quivering with unspoken words.
“Please…” I whisper, my hands reach out as if she holds the key to my freedom. She blinks back tears as she shakes her head, grasping tighter to her child.
“I beg you…” my mouth forms the words silently, careful not to let a single whisper escape. A tear shines in the lantern light as it drops down her cheek, creating a pale, stark line against the mask of filth.
The streets narrow as we push deeper into the centre of the Hollow, towards the Lantern Market. The scent of spices and broth is usually a welcome aroma, but not today. Today, I can’t think of anything worse than heading through this bustling market in chains.
Barked orders, pots and pans clanging, and the rhythmic scuffing of countless feet on pavement, all stop the moment I’m dragged to the edge. A collective hush falls over the crowd like a heavy curtain, leaving only the sounds of hissing oil, and the crackling of fires to fill the silence.
The stranger pulls me forward with enough force that I drop to my knees. Pain lances up my legs, as the stone bites into my skin. A sob threatens to tear free, but Yara’s voice echoes in my mind; fear is a tool, make sure you’re the one holding the hilt, not the blade.
People gather around to watch the monster in chains, as the stranger looks down his nose at me. Their murmurs a dim chorus of voices blurring into a single, living entity of sound.
His head swivels as he takes in every face. “This—” he points to me. “—this is what happens to those who are marked by the shadows. You can hide, but we will always find you.” The leather around his hands squeezes tight as his fists clench around the chains. “Now, be gone! All of you.”
The crowd disperses, scampering away like the rats that infest our world. A shiver runs down my neck and into my spine as words scrape the inside of my skull.
Get up.
The world swims and warps, reducing to a watercolour painting viewed through rippling glass. I wipe my face with my bound hands, as I bite down on my teeth. My knees grind against the rough stone as I fight to gain leverage, my legs trembling with the effort as a wave of pain washes over me.
People keep their distance, pretending to go back to their daily trading, but I see the furrowed brows, the mournful eyes.
Yesterday, I was a nobody, a flicker in their peripheral vision, a blur of motion quickly forgotten.
Just another girl with a sick brother who wanted nothing more than another day with him.
But today, I’m a prisoner. A monster bound by silver.
* * *
The market sounds grow fainter the higher we climb, as if even the sound wishes to escape. Roasted rootcakes and stewed meats fade away into small plumes of smoke, a smell I desperately cling on to. The smell of home.
Each step towards the city above, warms in anticipation.
My chest tightens, breaths coming in fast as the realisation hits me: I’ve dreamt of this moment my whole life, yet this isn’t how I imagined passing the Hollow’s ceilings of stone—being able to see the sun for the very first time.
And now I’m being dragged to it like a lamb to slaughter.
He jerks the chain again as the clinking has me grinding my teeth. “I—I can’t do this.” I pause, bracing for the tug.
Metal scuffs against the stony ground as he steps closer, brushing his hood back to display his neatly trimmed, bleached hair.
Strands of white fall over his forehead, highlighting his silver gaze.
He looks menacing, but his dark grey clothing has me contemplating his place within Auria.
I’ve only ever seen those from above dressed in white and gold.
Who and what is he?
His lip curls as his nose wrinkles. “You can, and you will. You have no choice.”
He spins on his heel as he pulls the chains taut, yanking me ever closer to the tunnel that leads to the city above.
My lungs burn, legs tremble as we climb higher and higher on the steps that lead to freedom. Years of being trapped underground doesn’t make me feel as confined as I do now, heading out into the vast, open space, and the oppression beyond.
I glance back to the life I’ve only ever known; the lights twinkling in a sea of black, smoke from the pyres dissipating the higher they climb. The scale of our fracture beneath the ground strikes me like a blow to the face, and I suddenly feel so small and insignificant. Yet again.
We walk blindly into the engulfing darkness as the view of home vanishes beneath black rock, water weeps down the wall, mimicking the turmoil inside my mind.
Cold air fights for dominance in the confined space, as warm air enters through the tunnel mouth ahead. Light—real light—slices through the dark. Not torchlight, not fungus glow, but something harder, purer.
My breath catches, chest constricts as if my body knows it doesn’t belong this high above ground. Our footsteps echo, as the sound bounces against the walls back to us, its vibrations only adding to the rapid beating of my heart.
We pass guards clothed in silver and gold waiting at the entrance, not men, but an iron curtain that drops between my past and future. A living portcullis of muscle and steel, designed to crash down and seal the world above from the abyss below.
Luminary Guards.
The moment their golden eyes find me, my blood chills, freezing in my veins. A wave of icy nausea washes over me, slicking my skin with a sudden, chilling sweat.
The shadows around me seem to shrink as a high-pitched hiss fills my ears, drowning out the conversation to nothing but mumbles and grunts.
I can’t tell if it’s coming from me or from somewhere else, but all I know is that every instinct I possess is recoiling, retreating into the deepest parts of my soul.
He pulls on the chain, dragging me forward, breaking the spell of my internal dread.
The hiss becomes a shriek, like tearing metal that scrapes against my skull.
My vision dissolves into a painful, brilliant white.
I stumble into the open as the world explodes around me.