She awoke to the chill touch of stone against feverish skin, an unexpected relief to the tender bruises that now littered her body. Despite the slow, cautious pace she took to raise herself upright, the movements were painful and nearly sent the room into a hard spin. A hand swiftly rose to her forehead to help steady a dazed mind, but she paused at the stark white of bandages wrapped neatly around her arm.
With her mind so hazed by fatigue, the events from earlier- if it was even that same day- had become nothing more than a scramble of vague memories, albeit one detail remained clear— she’d been ready to forfeit life; to finally tell this brutal world to piss off. But someone had stolen that liberation from her, no doubt thinking themselves in the right for protecting her life.
Blue eyes hardened into a glare at the apparent medical treatment she’d received during her unconsciousness. What right had they to take that from her? To force her into continuing a life she’d long forsaken? Damn those self-righteous fools. They were as cruel as those who threw the stones...A pang of remorse struck then, a chiding from her encumbering conscience. No...they were not. If anything, she had been extended a hand of mercy- a gift so rare that no gold or rich fineries could ever compare. ❛ Best not to take such things for granted, Kisara. ❜
She sat there a long while, brewing in an odd blend of anger and gratitude when the tapping of footsteps faded into earshot deeper within the prison corridors. It was a rushed but even pace, one of focused purpose. A whispered curse ghosted from her lips— what in the name of Duat could they possibly want from a street rat, a witch, a walking bad omen?
❛ No matter. Just let it be quick. ❜
