She was fed her sister’s scraps. Whatever wasn’t eaten was given to Aria.
She’d told Alexander that his people had luxuries that hers couldn’t afford. She’d known how to take punishment her whole life. It wasn’t her first time in dungeons, she doubted it would be her last. Though she hoped, it would be her last in these dungeons.
She could hear whispering. She’d never heard whispering before. It was so quiet that she could hardly hear it in the echo on the walls. Curious, she crawled toward it. That was when she recognized it.
“Tha mulad, tha mulad
Tha lionn-dubh orm fhèin
Hi ri hoireann o, hi ri hoireann o
Tha de mhìngean air m’aire
Ni nach aidich mo bheul
Hi ri ri ri o ho, roho hi hoireann o
Ach a Mhàiread nan cuiread
’S dàna chuir thu orm breug
Hi ri hoireann o, hi ri hoireann o
Thilg thu ormsa mar aithlis
Nach b’ fhuilear dhomh ’m bréid
Hi ri ri ri o ho, roho hi hoireann o,” the voice sang in but a whisper. It brought a smile to the girl’s face. She’d recognize that song anywhere.
“A tha seinn oran na seilg?” she asked. It was the native tongue. The language her mother taught her. The language that Seraphina banned, and could not understand herself. Aria peered through the broken shards of ice, hoping to see who sang. To her surprise, she saw the furry legs of a satyr. “‘S e duine gobhar a th’ annad.”
“Ciamar a tha sibh eòlach air a’ chànan?”
“Dh’ionnsaich mo mhàthair dhomh. Cò thu?” Aria persisted. She saw the satyr move. And then she saw wisps of blonde hair near the broken area of the wall.
“Canaidh iad Funea rium.” the satyr replied. A female. At least, in the language of the satyrs, it meant flowers and Aria doubted that a male would’ve been named flowers. “Tha mi air m’ ainm innse dhut, tha an t-àm ann do chuid fhèin innse dhomh.”
“Canaidh iad am marcaiche stoirm orm.” Aria spoke. She heard a gasp escape the satyr’s lips.
“Is tusa an talamh a rugadh,” she concluded. “Dè tha thu a’ dèanamh an seo?”
“Dh’ìobair mi mi fhìn airson nan daoine eile.” Aria told the creature. “Tha iad air an t-slighe a dh’fhaicinn Omdrus.”
“Feumaidh nach eil fios aig a’ bhana-bhuidseach. Marbhaidh an t-eòlas seo ar luchd-riaghlaidh.” Funea spoke.
“Chan eil fios aig a’ bhana-bhuidseach ach na tha mi a’ ceadachadh.” the white-haired girl told her. Funea chuckled.
“Tha thu dàna, marcaiche stoirme.”
They heard the doors of the dungeons open and both Aria and Funea pulled themselves away from the hole in the wall, pretending as if neither knew the other was there. The chains rattled lightly with their movements. But as soon as Aria’s back hit the ice wall, the door to her cell opened. And there her sister’s foul goblin entered.
“I knew I smelt something foul,” she sneered. “Kiard, you filthy little dung curdle.”
But instead of his usual raging reply, he only snickered. “You won’t be so witty for long.”
She furrowed her brow as her sister entered the room. At her sister’s entrance, she forced herself to rise. She would not be weak in front of the world’s greatest evil.
“Have you changed your mind yet, Aria?” Seraphina asked. “Or are you being defiant as always?”
“Changed my mind?” the girl questioned. “I’ve told you a great many times, Seraphina. I’ve got not a clue where they are.”
“And you, my sister, are lying.” the witch hissed. “And I will not have it. Tell me where the otherworlders are.”
“I don’t know!” Aria shouted. “I do not know! And if I did... you’d be the last person I’d tell.”
“Now, you’re just being spiteful,” Seraphina scoffed. “Aria, you know in your heart that there are two sides to this war; Mine and the Ashiverians. And you must decide whose side you are on.” she paused. “You have to choose between family and rebellion, sister.”
Aria stood with her head high. Her hands and legs may have been bound, but her spirit was free. Her soul was free. Seraphina believed that she had controlled her little sister, but she was so wrong. Aria’s soul belonged to the earth. And like the earth, she was wild.
“I choose rebellion,” Aria stated. “You are a cancer, Seraphina. Everywhere you go, there is death. And I’ve allowed you to spread too far.” she stared at her elder sister. “You say we are family, and yet you treat me like a criminal. Aye, we are sisters. But of blood alone.”
Seraphina raged. “Then you go without food, and lest you be alone for a day. And we shall see how you feel then.”
Her sister and her goblin turned to leave.
“You’re a coward, Seraphina!” she yelled. “You are nothing but a witch! An abomination to this land! You and your little weasel! You are a disgrace! And I’d like to see how you fare when I’m without chains!”
The door to the cell slammed shut. But Aria kept hurling insults at her sister until she heard the doors to the dungeons shut. And then she slid back down to the floor, deep breaths escaping her.
“’S math a rinn thu, a mharcaiche na stoirme,” Funea spoke. “Leig fios dhuinn gur e Aria an t-ainm a th ‘air ar marcaiche stoirme, agus chan eil ceangal fala no geallaidhean buaidh a’ goid a toil agus a neart. Oir buinidh a dìlseachd don rìgh mhòr againn.”
Funea’s praise brought no hope to her. Funea knew not of Aria’s doubts of herself. And Funea knew not of Edward’s curse.
The curse that could lead the otherworlders and their animal friends to their deaths.
But Aria was determined. Seraphina would not win.
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