The Reckoning and the Claim

Wane

Vera’s high cries cut sharply through the air, desperate and broken, but I absolutely do not look back at the sound. I sit on a rough wooden bench just outside the training yard, my arms resting on my knees, my intense eyes fixed on the savage sight before me.

The guards whip her again and again, each crack of the lash cutting through her skin and echoing painfully in the wide air.

Her screams simply do not move me now. They’re nothing more than noise to ...