A cage wrapped in Magic

The room was cold. Dampness clung to the floor, soaking through the splintered wooden planks. The faint glow of a dying lantern flickered weakly in the corner, casting distorted shadows against the walls. A heavy, foul smell lingered in the air. A mix of mildew, blood, and rot, so familiar it had soaked into the very bones of the place.

A small figure tossed and turned on the stained mattress, her thin body twitching in discomfort. Her breathing was shallow, her skin marked by fresh bruises and old burn scars. The blanket wrapped around her legs had long since lost its warmth.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open.

“—Hh!”

She jolted up, gasping for air as if she had been drowning in a nightmare. Her lungs strained, her chest heaving. The sudden movement tore open an unhealed wound on her arm, and she flinched in pain. Blood oozed slowly from the broken scab.

She sat still for a moment, frozen.

This place...

She slowly turned her head, her eyes scanning the cracked wooden walls, the strange markings carved into the floor, the faded enchantments that shimmered faintly under the lantern’s glow. Magic circles. Hexes. Binding runes. Everything was just as she remembered.

No. This wasn’t a memory. This was real.

Her trembling legs carried her toward the broken piece of glass leaning against the wall. She crouched beside it and stared into it. In the shattered reflection, wide yellow eyes stared back at her, pure, glowing gold. Her long tangled strands of pink hair were coated in filth.

She was... little.

No older than five.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her tiny hands clenched unconsciously at her sides, and her small body began to tremble.

Why...? Why am I back? I... I died… didn’t I?

Her chest tightened. Her lips trembled. Tears slipped down her dirt-smeared cheeks.

“No... I don’t... want this again...”

She crouched on the ground, covering her face with her hands, and began sobbing uncontrollably. Loud, broken cries filled the tiny cabin, bouncing off the walls and folding back into her. She didn’t understand anything. She didn't wanted to experience everything again.

The glowing woman... Did she do this?

She wanted to die. She had died.

So why…?

Her thoughts scattered as the door suddenly slammed open with a deafening thud. The little girl froze. Her body stiffened.

A tall woman entered the cabin, dressed in a flowing red gown embroidered with golden vines. Her beauty was sharp, like polished glass, and her long black braid rested elegantly over one shoulder. Behind her, two maids trailed quietly.

The moment little girl saw her, her blood ran cold. Her knees buckled beneath her. A twisted smile curled on Hestia’s lips as she looked down at the girl trembling in the corner.

“My dear little child,” she cooed mockingly, “it’s time to give us back what doesn’t belong to you.”

She tilted her head. “I’ve come to collect holy power, useless.”

The little girl’s eyes widened.

Her tiny frame trembled like a leaf in the wind. Hestia raised her hand as if to strike, amused at the girl’s reaction. The moment she flinched and took a step back, Hestia let out a soft laugh, pleased.

“She still remembers fear,” she mused aloud.

One of the maids stepped forward and bowed.

“My Lady, why dirty your hands with that filthy creature? I’ll handle her.”

Hestia gave a satisfied nod and turned to leave the room, her heels clicking against the wooden floor.

The maid walked toward the girl and seized her wrist with a tight grip.

“Ah—!”

She whimpered as pain shot up her arm. Her bruises flared, the cuts opened again. She couldn’t stop the weak sound that escaped her throat.

SLAP

A sharp blow struck her face. Her head jerked sideways, her cheek were stinging. The maid’s eyes were cold.

“Don’t make noise, brat. Madam hates your voice.”

She fell silent. Her eyes welled up again, but she forced herself not to cry. She didn’t want to go. To that room where they took holy powers... it was worse than death.

Her body trembled harder. Her thoughts were spiraling, unstable.

No... I don’t want to go... not again...

The maid frowned at her shivering and gritted her teeth. “Tch. Stop shaking, you filthy thing.”

Grabbing a fistful of little girl’s tangled hair, the maid began dragging her forward. Her scalp burned. Her neck twisted painfully. Her breathing turned ragged as she stumbled after the maid, pulled like livestock. But there was nothing she could do.

The journey from the cabin to the mansion was short but to the little girl, it felt eternal.

As soon as the heavy mansion doors opened, she shrank back in fear. The light that streamed through the vast windows burned her eyes. It was bright...so bright it hurt.

She stumbled slightly, blinking rapidly as the world around her turned white and blinding. The corridor was polished and clean. Marble floors, glowing crystals on the walls, sweet perfumes lingering in the air.

It was so different from the filth and damp of the cabin.

But none of it mattered.

The disgusted stares she received from passing servants pierced through her like needles. They covered their noses. Whispers echoed as they looked at her bloodied legs and bruised face, at the dried stains on her ragged clothes.

She knew this place.

Every step etched into her bones.

The same turns.

The same staircase.

The same door at the end of the hall.

It was the room where her powers were transfered countless time. The same cold chamber. And the excruciating pain.

“Strap that useless brat to the chair,” Hestia ordered coldly.

The maid shoved her forward. She stumbled and crashed into the wooden chair. Sharp pain erupted across her arms and legs as old wounds reopened. Blood seeped slowly from fresh gashes.

She bit her lip hard. So hard it bled.

She mustn’t scream.

The maid yanked her arms and legs into place, strapping them down with rough leather belts. Each tug made her whimper silently, but she didn’t dare speak.

Once the girl was restrained, the maid bowed to Hestia and stepped aside, standing quietly near the door.

In the center of the room, the little girl sat alone, surrounded by glowing enchantments.

An intricate magic circle was carved into the stone floor, etched in divine ink. She sat in the middle of it: helpless, trembling.

Around the circle stood five men. Their eyes were gleaming with twisted hunger for power which they will soon receive from this little girl. They smirked greedily.

They looked at her as if she were livestock. A source. A thing.

The little girl closed her eyes in fear.

Roland summoned his magic and focused in the incantation inscrubed on the ceiling. A torrent of magic cascaded down engulfing the little girl in the chair and activating the magic circle on the floor. The energy coursed through magic circle and was being transferred to the five men and her parents. The ritual continued for hour until the magic circle stopped responding.

The little girl's small body jerked against the restraints as she screamed. It felt like her soul was being torn from her bones.

Tiny scratches ripped across her skin, glowing with holy energy before turning into raw, open wounds. Her mouth hung open in a silent cry as the power left her sucked out, drained, devoured.

The five men smiled in satisfaction as energy flowed into them.

An hour passed.

The light dimmed. The magic faded.

And the ritual stopped.

The child slumped in the chair. Her body was limp, broken. She could barely breathe.

Her vision blurred.

The five men chuckled among themselves. They boasted of their strength. They thanked Roland. Hestia’s face was radiant with pride as she spoke to them, as if she had gifted them a treasure.

But her eyes when they glanced at the girl were cold again.

“Throw her in the cabin,” she said flatly, not even looking back.

The maid nodded and walked over.

The little girl tried to stand.

Her legs shook violently beneath her weight, but she forced herself up. Every muscle screamed in agony. Her skin burned. Her bones ached. Her breath was shallow.

The maid didn’t care.

Irritated, she yanked the little girl by the hair and began dragging her again.

“You reek of stench… Ugh! So dirty,” the maid spat, frowning in disgust.

The little girl said nothing.

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t scream.

But her heart... her tiny heart beat fast. She knew no one liked her here.

She didn’t want to go back to the cabin.

She didn’t want this life again.

As they neared the edge of the mansion grounds toward the forest path where the cabin lay hidden in isolation, she began to panic. Her steps grew unsteady. Her breaths became short and frantic.

No... not the dark. Not the cold. Not again...

And then—

“Huh? Wh–what’s happening…? Why... do I... feel... sleepy...?” the maid murmured, her voice slurring.

She swayed. Then collapsed.

Thud.

She began snoring, deep and unbothered. The little girl stared in stunned silence. She blinked rapidly and crawled toward the maid, touching her gently with her fingers.

Did... did she die? No. Sleeping...

The girl looked around quickly, her breathing shallow. And then her eyes drifted toward the forest.

‘Shall I run away? But if mom and dad catches me they will punish me more. They will beat me.'

The girl shivered at the thought. But she looked at the forest again and whispered softly,

“I run away and die quick. They no catch. No punish.”

The little girl started running towards the forest. Her heart was beating loudly as she was sacred of being caught. Her whole body was aching. But she didn’t looked back and continued running.

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