Echoes of Ossian
I had lost count of how many times I had run, how many times I had fought tooth and nail against the hands that sought to drag me back into my cell. Every escape attempt had ended the same—chains biting into my flesh, fists striking until I could no longer stand, whispered threats promising a fate worse than death. And yet, no matter how many times they broke my body, they never shattered my resolve.
The world beyond these walls had become an illusion, a cruel taunt that danced just out of reach. I had been trapped in this cycle for so long that even hope felt like a distant memory, slipping through my fingers like sand. But no matter how impossible it seemed, I couldn't stop. Because once again, no one was coming to save me.
Waiting was not an option. Staying meant surrender.
And then—I found it.
Nestled in the ruins of a long-forgotten garden, hidden beneath layers of flowers and leaves, an escape. It was barely holding itself together, but I knew what it was. I had seen it before, in the haunted eyes of a woman who had tried to use it long ago. My mother.
Time had worn the wall down, chipping away at its once-imposing structure. The edges of the hole were jagged but softened by years of wind and rain, the stone crumbling at the touch like brittle parchment. Roots snaked through the cracks, seeking purchase in the decay, and moss clung to the damp surface, weaving a tapestry of green over what remained.
This was no mere flaw in the fortress's design—it was a scar. A wound left behind by someone who had once tried to flee.
The weight of history pressed against the opening, heavy with the ghost of a desperate attempt. My mother had reached for this escape, just as I did now. Her fingers had brushed these same stones, her breath had quickened in this very spot. But she had not made it through.
Now, after all this time, the passage still stood, waiting.
She had stood where I now stood, grasping for the same desperate escape, only to be caught before she could reach salvation. I could still see her—the way her blood pooled beneath her, staining the stone an unforgiving crimson while she hid me in the garden. The way her breath shuddered, her lips parting as if to whisper a final plea that never found its voice.
I had watched from the shadows, a coward frozen in place. I had done nothing.
That moment had branded itself into my bones, a wound that had never truly healed. It was a scar I carried with me, a weight I had borne ever since. But now—now, I had a chance to do what she could not.
I wouldn't let history repeat itself.
The portal was my last chance. The only path that led away from the cycle of torment that had consumed my life. If I failed again, there would be no more second chances. No more mercy.
I forced myself to move, my hands trembling as I clawed away the debris that had swallowed the entrance. The stone was cold beneath my fingers, rough and unyielding, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.
My breath hitched when I found it—the latch buried beneath the grime. Rusted, ancient, but intact. My fingers curled around it, pulling with all the strength I had left. The air around me seemed to shift, as if the very walls were holding their breath, waiting.
The door groaned open, revealing a passageway swallowed in darkness.
I hesitated.
Not because I feared the unknown—I had long since learned that whatever lay ahead could never be worse than what I left behind. No, I hesitated because stepping forward meant letting go of everything that had kept me tethered to this place. The pain. The guilt. The ghosts of the past.
And I wasn't sure who I would be without them.
But there was no turning back.
With a final breath, I stepped into the abyss, the door swinging shut behind me.
The darkness of the tunnel swallowed me whole, wrapping around me like a second skin. The air was damp, thick with the scent of earth and decay. Every breath felt like inhaling dust, every step echoing ominously in the confined space. I pressed forward, hands skimming the rough walls to guide me through the oppressive blackness.
For what felt like an eternity, I crawled, my body protesting against the weight of exhaustion. My mind raced with possibilities—what if this tunnel led nowhere? What if it was a trap? But no. I refused to let doubt take root. If my mother had risked it, then it meant something. It had to lead somewhere beyond these cursed walls.
Suddenly, a faint glow flickered ahead. My pulse quickened. The end of the tunnel? Freedom? Summoning the last vestiges of my strength, I moved faster, scraping my knees against jagged stone, ignoring the pain. The closer I got, the brighter the glow became, until I finally emerged into a small clearing hidden beneath the gnarled roots of ancient trees. Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, silver beams illuminating the world beyond my prison.
I staggered forward, gasping as fresh air filled my lungs. It was real. I had made it.
But the moment of victory was short-lived.
A figure stepped into the clearing, his silhouette outlined by the pale glow. Cassian.
My blood turned to ice. I knew that stance, that stillness that preceded a storm. He had found me.
"You never learn, just like your mother" Cassian said, his voice devoid of emotion.
I clenched my fists ready to fight for freedom.
He tilted his head slightly, watching me with those cold, calculating eyes. "The elders have spoken. You are to be executed." He sneered.
"And you're going to do it?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Cassian didn't answer immediately. He only stared, as if searching for something in my expression. Then, with agonizing finality, he unsheathed his blade.
I had no choice I step back and began to run. I ran as death chased behind me .
The forest became a blur of shadows and moonlight as I weaved between the trees, branches clawing at my skin. Footsteps pounded behind me, relentless, unwavering. Cassian had always been faster. Always stronger. But I had desperation. I had nothing to lose.
Just as I thought I might gain some distance, a sharp pain seared through my side. A force slammed into me, sending me crashing to the ground. I gasped, rolling onto my back just in time to see Cassian standing over me, his blade stained with my blood.
"It's over," he said.
I coughed, the metallic taste of iron filling my mouth. Was this it? Was this how my story ended? After all I had been through, I had to do it all over again, trapped in this endless end of a nightmare. I hoped it would be the last time my eyes had to open.
Darkness crept at the edges of my vision. My body felt cold. But just before the abyss claimed me, something shifted. The world tilted, time unraveled, and I was no longer there.
When my eyes snapped open again, I was gasping for breath, my hands clutching my unmarked chest. The pain was gone. The wound was gone.
And the day had begun again.
The same day I was cursed by Eryss.
The weight of the realization crushed me. This was her vengeance. The true weight of her curse. She had condemned me to an endless cycle of suffering and death.
And I had no idea how to break free.