Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain

Chapter 345: Over And Over Again

The soldier kept the grin on his face, walking towards Cecilia with the patience of someone who had already won.

Cecilia’s eyes moved fast, trying to find something she could use in the corridor, but her search turned up nothing.

All she could see was the stone wall behind her, which the soldier had raised, cutting off the room she’d been heading for.

She looked up to see the distance between them closing with each step he took.

"Nowhere to run now." He said.

Cecilia’s eyes narrowed and she raced forward, shifting her weight to the left. The soldier adjusted, stepping towards her left side, his one good eye tracking the movement.

Then she spun to the right.

His hands snapped forward, fingers closing around the space where her shoulder had been a fraction of a second earlier, but he missed.

His depth perception was gone, the bleeding eye throwing off his judgment just enough for Cecilia to slip away.

She ran past him, then heard him snarl and heard the curse that followed.

He caught her in four strides.

She didn’t hear him gaining on her so much as feel the air change behind her, and then his hand connected with the side of her face.

Her head snapped to the side, slamming into the wall, sending stars flying across her vision. By the time she regained the sense of mind to determine what had happened to her, the ground was all that she could see.

She curled instinctively, arms over her head, knees drawn up.

It didn’t help much.

The kicks came with savage force, each one finding a new place to land.

She felt one of her ribs snap on the third impact, sending a sharp pain through her and making her eyes water. Every breath felt like a nail was being driven into her chest

She curled up into something smaller and concentrated on surviving this, waiting until finally, it stopped.

He dragged her by the ankle again.

The stone floor moved beneath her in a blur of cold and rough edges, and she kept her arms up to protect her face and let the rest of her body take what it took. There was nothing else to do.

He threw her into the courtyard.

She landed badly, the impact driving the air from her already damaged lungs, and for a moment she simply lay there, cheek against the cold stone, watching the world tilt.

Then her mother’s arms were around her.

She let herself be held for exactly as long as she needed to. Then she opened her eyes and looked across the courtyard at the soldier standing with his companions, his face twisted and one hand pressed against the ruined eye.

The others were laughing at him, making jokes on how he’d let a little kid hurt him.

One of them took hold of the hairpin and worked it free, and Cecilia watched as blood ran down the man’s face before another soldier began closing the wound with a healing spell.

She filed that away.

The lead soldier spoke as he always did, and the torches rose.

The fire came, and the screaming came with it, and Cecilia burned with her eyes open and her hatred intact.

***

She sat up breathing hard, her eyes finding the same cracked beam.

She was already moving before she’d fully arrived.

She crossed to the cosmetic table and took every hairpin she could hold, hiding them wherever she could within her dress, into places she could reach fast without making them visible.

She kept one in her hand, then went to the wardrobe.

She pulled it open and stepped inside, moving the dresses carefully around herself, and this time pulled the door fully closed before the room’s door exploded.

She heard the soldier enter. Heard his footsteps cross the room. She could see his expression in her mind’s eye as he saw the empty bed and crossed to the window to check it.

Then she heard his footsteps again, this time moving towards the corridor, and finally, the sound of him walking faded away as he left.

She stayed frozen for sixty seconds, counting the time. Then she crept out.

She peeked out of the open doorway, seeing that the corridor in both directions was empty. She then went left, moving on bare feet and keeping close to the wall, making no sound.

She knew this palace. She’d grown up in it. That meant she knew which corridors connected to which, which offices were likely to be empty, and which routes the soldiers used for their rounds and which ones they ignored.

She moved through it like water finding the path of least resistance.

At the junction before the east corridor, she heard the rhythmic clink of plate armor before she saw any soldiers.

Eyes widening in alarm, she slipped into the nearest room, an empty clerk’s office with a half-finished ledger still open on the desk, and hid herself behind the door.

Two soldiers passed the room, neither of them stopping to look in.

She waited, then continued.

Soon, she reached the balcony overlooking the main courtyard, sneaking up to the railing and looking down.

The women and children were already gathered below. Her mother sat near the center, knees drawn up, her back straight in a way that made her seem composed.

The soldiers stood at the edges of the courtyard, weapons at the ready.

The soldier she’d hidden from appeared at the far end of the courtyard, crossed to the lead soldier who stood almost directly beneath the balcony, and leaned in to speak quietly.

The lead soldier nodded. Then he turned to the others. "Torch them."

"No."

The word came out of her before the thought had fully formed. She was already on the railing before her thoughts could catch up with her actions, then she jumped.

The lead soldier looked up.

She landed on his shoulder and drove the hairpin down with everything she had, the sharp end sinking deep into the eye socket, directly into the brain.

He went down and she went with him, rolling clear of the body, coming up on her feet.

The courtyard erupted.

The women scattered in every direction, breaking through the gaps between soldiers who were still processing what had happened.

Screaming filled the air, and Cecilia moved with the crowd, trying to use the chaos to slip away.

That was when the ground rose up like it was made out of clay, coming up around her feet and ankles and climbing, reshaping itself until she was fixed in place with her arms out on a cross.

She strained against her bounds, but there was no give. She was a kid, and had no real strength to exert.

Her mother was running toward her, shouting her name.

A soldier stepped into the path.

"Mother!" The word tore out of her.

Her mother went down.

Cecilia strained harder against the stone, and then the sword came and her mother stopped moving and Cecilia felt a deep pain in her heart.

The soldier in front of her raised his sword with a sneer. She glared at him in hatred as the sword descended.

The pain lasted a moment.

Then her eyes opened again.