Shadows Heart

The cuffs bite into my wrist, cold and unyielding, each movement sending a sharp reminder of their presence. The rattle of the chain as I shift is a sound I can't escape, echoing in the silence of the room.

From the kitchen, I can hear Oriel pacing. His footsteps are steady, deliberate, like he's trying to convince himself he's in control. But all I feel is anger—a simmering, unrelenting fury at the situation he's forced me into.

On the nightstand, the crane sits crumpled and forgotten. Janus's words, once a lifeline, feel distant now, buried beneath the weight of this suffocating reality.

When Oriel finally returns, he's carrying a plate of food and a glass of water. His face is carefully neutral, but his movements are hesitant, as though he's afraid I might lash out. He sets the plate on the nightstand, his hand lingering there for a moment before he sits at the edge of the bed.

"You need to eat," he says softly, but there's no warmth in his voice.

I don't respond. I just stare at him, the anger bubbling under my skin.

"Sao," he tries again, his tone more insistent. "You passed out last night. You could've died."

"Because I haven't eaten," I snap, my voice sharp. "Because I can't breathe here, Oriel."

"I'm trying to keep you safe," he says, his voice defensive.

"Safe?" I laugh bitterly, holding up my cuffed wrist. The chain rattles with the motion, a sound that feels louder than anything else in the room. "This isn't safety. This is control."

He flinches, his jaw tightening. "You don't understand. You were going to leave. You were going to run off into the night, and then what? Hope Janus magically shows up to save you?"

"That's not what I was doing," I hiss, though part of me knows he's not entirely wrong.

"Then what were you doing?" he demands, his voice rising. "Tell me, Sao. What was your plan?"

I stare at him, my lips pressing into a thin line. I don't have an answer.

"That's what I thought," he says bitterly, standing and pacing the room. His steps are heavy, filled with frustration. "You didn't have a plan. You just wanted to get away."

"Because I can't live like this!" I shout, my voice breaking. "You've taken everything from me, Oriel! My freedom, my choices, my chance to see Janus—everything!"

"I've given you a home," he snaps, spinning to face me. "I've given you stability. And this is how you repay me?"

"Repay you?" I laugh, the sound hollow and bitter. "You don't own me, Oriel. I don't owe you anything."

His face twists, and for a moment, I see something flicker in his eyes—fear, maybe, or desperation.

"You don't mean that," he says quietly, his voice almost pleading.

"Yes, I do," I say, the tears stinging my eyes. "You're not protecting me, Oriel. You're breaking me."

The words land between us like a heavy weight, and for a moment, the tension in the room is unbearable.

"You're staying," he says finally, his voice low and cold. "Because I'm not letting you destroy yourself."

"And what if staying here destroys me?" I whisper, my voice trembling.

He doesn't answer. He just stares at me, his silence louder than any words he could say.

---

When he leaves, I sit on the bed, staring at the plate of food. My stomach twists with hunger, but the sight of the meal fills me with resentment.

I think of Janus—of his letters, his promises, the hope he always carried with him. He wouldn't want this for me. He wouldn't let this happen.

But he's not here.

And I don't know if he ever will be.

---

The city lights glitter outside the window, their glow a constant reminder of the world just beyond my reach. I pull my knees to my chest, the chain rattling softly, and let the tears fall.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, though I don't know if the apology is for Janus, for myself, or for the version of Oriel I once trusted.

The night stretches on, heavy and endless, and for the first time, I wonder if freedom is something I'll ever taste again.