Chapter 3: Astrid's POV
1903 Words
After what I heard, I couldn't stay in school. I had a bad feeling, and I wanted to get home.
Unfortunately, my home was at the border of the village, and so I had to run to get there fast. Since I heard the principal and someone else whispering, I decided it would be best if nobody saw me.
Whatever happened, they didn't want me to find out.
As soon as I saw my house, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it in the air, so I ran even faster.
My mom had to be okay, my father had to be okay.
Yeah, I was going to find them and somehow convince them to leave this place. Then we can be a happy family and live a normal life.
The moment I stepped through the broken door, the scent of iron and smoke hit me like a fist to the gut.
Blood.
So much blood.
The walls were splattered with it—dark, drying streaks that ran like gruesome rivers down the wood. The furniture was shattered, the table split in two, and the chairs were reduced to kindling. The curtains hung in tattered ribbons, swaying gently in the breeze from the shattered windows.
And the silence—
Gods, the silence was worse than the destruction.
"Mom?" My voice cracked. "Dad?"
No answer.
I stepped in and heard something crunch under my shoes. When I looked down, I realized it was glass; the windows were completely destroyed.
Who did this?
A trail of blood led toward the back rooms—toward their bedroom.
No. No, no, no—
I forced myself to move, my legs trembling.
The bedroom door hung off its hinges.
And inside—
I didn’t scream.
I didn’t cry.
I just stopped breathing.
They were gone.
Not just dead. Gone.
No bodies. No remains. Just blood—soaking into the mattress, pooling on the floor, smeared across the walls like some sick painting.
I had no doubt it was my parents' blood. I might not be a wolf, but we can distinguish certain scents.
I did not doubt that my parents were dead, but now I only needed to find out who did this.
Do you have to ask?
No, I didn't, I already suspected who killed my family, and I would make them pay.
My knees hit the floor.
The fire inside me—the one I’d spent my whole life controlling—erupted.
Flames burst from my skin, devouring my sleeves, my hair, the very air around me. The wooden floorboards blackened beneath my hands.
They took them.
I was going to tear each and every single one of them apart.
"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here, Astrid." Of course, he was here. He came to gloat, to make fun of my pain. "You hid your phoenix so well, we wanted to keep this a secret until you were older, but it seems you beat us to it."
"Elias!" I grunted as the phoenix continued to consume me. I was ready to burn it all to the ground to ensure nothing was left.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. We can't have that," He said as he stepped closer.
Was he stupid? I am going to—
I suddenly felt how my body froze; the phoenix was extinguished instantly.
What the f**k is this?
"You think I didn't take precautions?" Elias asked with a quirked eyebrow.
Elias stepped closer, his polished boots clicking against the bloodstained floorboards. He looked like an older version of Lars, and right now, he had a wicked smile plastered on his face.
I wanted to wipe it off, but whatever trick he used, it didn't let me move.
I struggled against whatever invisible force held me, my muscles screaming, my veins burning with trapped fire. The phoenix thrashed inside me, wings beating against my ribs, but it was useless. Something was blocking it.
Elias tutted, shaking his head. "I'm glad it worked. We weren't sure since your mother no longer had her Phoenix, but now I can say it was money well spent."
I tried to scream, but all I could do was grunt.
"That's right, you can't move a muscle, firebird. I learned a few tricks over the years." He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, blackened bone, carved with runes that made my vision swim.
Phoenix bone.
My stomach twisted.
I could recognize that bone anywhere...
It was my mother's.
"You're monsters," I spat.
Elias chuckled. "No, girl. We're practical." He crouched in front of me, his cold eyes glinting. "Your mother was the last true warrior of your bloodline. But you? You're just a child with a power you don't understand. And now?" He leaned in, his breath reeking of mint and decay. "Now, you belong to us."
The door burst open behind him, and several villagers entered my home, their hands wrapped around weapons glinting with the same cursed runes. My stomach dropped.
How long had they planned this for?
I knew something was wrong in this village; I knew they would try something sooner or later. What I don't understand is why my mother never believed me.
"Where do you want us to take her, chief?" One of the villagers asked.
He was a man my father helped one time. His house collapsed, and my father knew a thing or two about carpentry. My father lent him a hand, and this bastard paid him by killing him.
"Take her to my house. I have a special place prepared for her," his voice was so cold that it sent a shiver down my spine.
Whatever he had planned for me, I would not like it.
I knew my life would probably be over, but I didn't let them see how broken I was. Instead I glared at all of them, and mouthed 'f**k you' before they dragged me away.
———————————————————————
Three years later...
———————————————————————
"Oh, birdieeeee," Lars sang.
He does that every morning, as if I am some kind of caged animal he could have fun with. The iron bars of my cage rattled as Lars kicked them, his boot connecting with the metal just inches from my face. I didn’t flinch. After three years, I’d learned not to give him the satisfaction.
"Oh, birdie," he crooned, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Still not talking today?"
I stared past him, my fingers curled around the enchanted shackles clamped around my wrists. The runes carved into them pulsed faintly, a constant reminder of the phoenix trapped beneath my skin—wild, furious, but utterly useless.
Lars crouched, tilting his head like I was some fascinating insect. "You know, I miss when you used to fight back. It was more fun."
I said nothing.
He sighed dramatically and reached through the bars, grabbing a fistful of my matted hair. I gritted my teeth as he yanked my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze.
"Father says we’re starting the ritual tonight," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "Finally going to carve that pretty little spirit right out of you."
My pulse stuttered, but I kept my face blank.
Let him talk.
Let him think he’s won.
Lars’s grin widened. "Oh? Nothing to say about that?" He released me with a shove, laughing as I slammed against the back of the cage. "Guess you’re finally learning your place."
He stood, dusting off his hands like I was nothing more than dirt. "See you tonight, firebird."
The cellar door slammed shut behind him, plunging me back into darkness.
Only then did I let myself breathe.
Tonight.
They’d kept me alive this long for one reason—to steal the phoenix spirit. And if the ritual worked, I’d be dead by morning.
But they’d made one mistake.
They’d left me alive too long.
I lifted my shackled wrists, studying the runes in the dim light. Three years. Three years of pain, of humiliation, of waiting.
And now?
Now, I knew every weakness in those runes.
Every flaw in their magic.
Every mistake.
I closed my eyes, reaching for the ember of fire buried deep inside me.
Not yet.
But soon.
The cellar door creaked open again.
I tensed, expecting Lars to return with another taunt—
But it wasn’t Lars.
Adrineh stood in the doorway, her face pale, her hands trembling around a stolen key.
Our eyes met.
And for the first time in three years—
I smiled.
I have been trapped, but I learned a few tricks along the way, including letting tiny sparks of the phoenix out. I could hear and see almost everything people did around the village, and I have seen what Adrineh has done.
She wasn't lying when she said she wanted to be my friend.
"You don't seem surprised to see me," She whispered, stepping closer.
"Don't come closer," I instructed, lowering my eyes so she could see the runes written on the floor. Only Lars and Elias could enter the array; if someone else did, they would be alerted.
Adrineh spotted what I was indicating to her, and her eyebrows knitted. "Of course they f*****g would," she groaned under her breath.
"They know you are on my side," I stated.
"I know, I'm not stupid," her voice was monotone. "They wanted to kill my father, but couldn't because of his status."
"Then why are you still helping me?" I asked.
Yes, my sparks acted like little spies, but that was it. I couldn't tell what the other person was thinking, and this question has been on my mind for quite a long time.
Adrineh risked everything for someone she barely knew, and I still couldn't understand why.
She didn't reply, though; she remained silent, and instead of answering my question, she kept looking at the runes, as if finding a way to break the spell.
"The only way to break it is to spill the blood of the people who cast it over it."
"Lars? Elias?" She asked, but I shook my head.
"They are not powerful enough; they have someone on their side, but I'm not sure who."
"Liar," she immediately called me out. "I knew about your spies, I don't think anyone else has noticed them, but I saw your spark, remember?"
I smirked. Of course, she knew. "You are right, I do know, but this is not someone you can go up against."
"And you do?" She asked with a quirked eyebrow.
I nodded. "Yes, partially. I can injure them enough to leave this place," I stated calmly.
"Now you are going to tell me to scram and leave all of this to you, right?" She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
I giggled.
Three years ago, I would have said that. I tried to scare her, but nothing I did seemed to affect Adrineh.
I had changed, though. I knew she would do whatever she wanted, even if I told her to stay back and not mingle in my affairs, she would not listen.
"Nope, this time I need your help. Are you ready to hear my plan?"
- Writer
