of Sword and Flame

 The door opened, revealing two familiar forms discussing something, sharp, serious stares etched across their faces.

"What's going on?" Ren glanced between them. Anika looked back, and Ren's throat tightened. He kept his face neutral, but something in him was still angry and bitter from the last time they'd spoken. A sour taste took hold of him. Anika looked away, her stare cold.

"We're discussing our next steps in the capital," Anika began. Her voice was rough like grated stones. "We've gotten word of some sort of uprising in Vorin, and Captain Augustus suggested taking advantage of the distraction to conquer territory in Vorin."

She wasn't facing him when she said it.

They discussed the details of the job, the soldiers they should send, and what strategies could possibly be used. Ren sat uncomfortably through it all. Something didn't sit right with him.

"That's about it," the king set down the last page of notes they'd taken. He nodded to Ren. "You're free to go."

Ren blinked.

"What, are you so displeased by my presence?" he chuckled. Anika sent a glance toward the king. Something odd flickered in his eye.

"Of course not," he laughed lightly. "I simply must discuss some details for Anika to go over. She's not going to make you do her work this time, I promise."

Ren nodded his head, his smile fading slowly. He made his way out of the room.

It was damp but not cold. There was no light except for the lethargic glow from the lanterns outside. Kyra glared at the door as footsteps approached.

"I hope you're comfortable." The king stared through the barred door at her. There was a click, and he entered the room. A figure waited just outside the door.

Kyra watched him with an icy frown, shifting her legs to cross one over the other. She was chained to the wall, hands behind her back, but oddly enough, the chair beneath her was cushioned—as if he truly cared for her comfort.

"We have a lot to talk about."

The king carried a small wooden chair in, planting it and himself down before her. He didn't look angry. His eyes were sunken in, the edges of them pulling back as he sighed and shut his eyes.

"I have nothing to say to you." Kyra spat the words out, and they ricocheted around the echoing metal cell. They rang in her own ears, those blackened words. The king lowered his head, staring at his feet.

"I did it for my people."

Kyra turned away. She longed to tear from the wall, lunge for him, and punch his teeth out. It had been him the whole time. All him.

Kyra hated being right.

"I took our research from the gift war. It wasn't much, but it was enough. I employed doctors and scientists from Vorin and offered them jobs. But you must know, Kyra, I never forced anyone to do this."

"That doesn't make it right!" Kyra yelled. Sweat rolled down her face from the damp heat, and the stench of excrement from other cells made her wrinkle her nose in disgust. The king fell silent. He folded his hands in his lap, glancing up at her.

"They receive payment for their service. The accumulation of a year is a small fortune."

"Do you even hear yourself?" She cut through his sentence. "It doesn't matter what you do or what you give them! Lieken is dangerous; it's barely been researched! And there you are, injecting who knows what into the people you claim to love!"