Celeste's POV
The guards throw me against the cold crystal post so hard my teeth rattle. My wrists burn as they lock the chains above my head, stretching my arms until my shoulders scream.
"Please," I whisper, but my voice is lost in the crowd's angry shouts.
High Priestess Serath glides toward me, her black robes trailing across the marble floor. Twelve other priestesses follow in a perfect line, their faces blank and emotionless. Each one carries a knife that glows sickly green.
I've seen magic stripping once before. A thief who stole from the royal treasury. His screams haunted my nightmares for months.
Now I'm about to discover exactly how much worse it is from the inside.
"Strip her magic," King Aldric commands from his throne.
Serath's cold eyes meet mine. For just a second, I see something flicker there—satisfaction. Like she's been waiting for this moment.
"Wait!" I scream desperately. "Just let me explain! The documents I found—they prove the Lightning-Blessed were murdered! Our entire kingdom is built on genocide!"
"Lies," Serath hisses. Her wrinkled hand grips my face, nails digging into my cheeks. "The Lightning-Blessed were abominations. We cleansed the world of their corruption a thousand years ago. And if you keep speaking such poison, I'll make this hurt even more."
She releases me and nods to the other priestesses. They circle around me like vultures.
The first knife touches my arm.
I flinch, expecting pain, but it's almost gentle. The blade traces a glowing symbol into my skin—not cutting deep, but the magic burns like ice and fire combined. One priestess moves to my other arm. Another to my shoulder. They work methodically, carving runes all over my exposed skin.
"These are binding marks," Serath explains, though I didn't ask. "They create a cage around your magic. A cage we're about to shatter—taking your power with it."
"My magic is part of me," I gasp. "You can't just remove it!"
"Can't we?" Her smile is cruel. "You're about to learn exactly what we can do."
The final rune is carved above my heart. All twelve priestesses step back, forming a perfect circle. They begin to chant in an ancient language I don't understand.
The runes on my skin start to glow brighter. Brighter. BRIGHTER.
Then the pain begins.
It starts as a pulling sensation in my chest, like someone tugging on an invisible thread. Uncomfortable but bearable.
Then the thread becomes a rope.
Then a chain.
Then a hook ripping through my insides.
I scream.
My storm magic—the power that's been part of me since the day I was born—tries to fight back. Lightning crackles across my skin. Thunder rumbles inside my chest. Wind whips through the hall, making the chandeliers swing wildly.
But the priestesses keep chanting, and the binding magic is too strong.
My power is being torn away.
It feels like having my soul pulled out through my veins. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The magic fights and struggles, trying to stay connected to me, but the priestesses pull harder and HARDER and—
Something rips.
I feel it tear loose from my core, that place deep inside where my magic lives. The storm power that defined who I was gets yanked away, leaving a gaping wound in my soul.
My screams turn hoarse. Raw. I thrash against the chains so violently that blood runs down my arms from my wrists. But I can't escape. Can't stop this.
The world starts to fade. Colors drain away, turning gray and lifeless. The air feels different against my skin—dead air, just air, not full of electricity and moisture and potential like it used to be.
My magic tears free completely.
In Serath's outstretched hands, a glowing orb appears—swirling with storm clouds and lightning. My magic. My power. My soul.
Captured in a glass prison.
The priestesses stop chanting. The hall goes silent except for my ragged breathing.
I hang limply from the chains, unable to hold myself up. The emptiness inside me is so vast, so absolute, that I almost wish they'd killed me instead. This is worse than death.
This is becoming nothing.
"It is done," Serath announces, holding up the orb for everyone to see. "Celeste Thorne is stripped of her Storm-Caller gifts. She is powerless. Worthless."
The crowd erupts in cheers.
Through my blurred vision, I see my parents. They're standing now, facing the king.
"House Thorne wishes to make a statement," my father says. His voice is steady and formal, like he's discussing business. Like his daughter isn't hanging in chains in front of him.
"Speak," the king allows.
My mother steps forward. She doesn't look at me. "House Thorne disowns Celeste Aurelia Thorne. She is no longer our daughter. We had no knowledge of her treason, and we will not be held responsible for her crimes."
The words should hurt. But I'm already so broken that they barely register.
My father continues, "We offer our remaining daughter, Maris Thorne, as a replacement bride for Prince Aldric. To prove our loyalty to the crown."
My head snaps up despite the pain. What?
Maris steps forward, her hand already in Aldric's. They stand together like they've done this a hundred times before.
How long? How LONG have they been planning this?
"We accept," Aldric says smoothly. "Maris has proven her loyalty tonight. She will make an excellent princess."
My sister finally looks at me. For just a second, I see guilt flash across her face. But then Aldric squeezes her hand, and she looks away.
She chose him over me.
The guards unchain me from the post. I collapse immediately, my legs unable to hold my weight. They haul me up roughly, one on each arm.
Prince Aldric approaches. He crouches down to my level, forcing me to meet his eyes.
"I'll give you one final mercy," he says softly, so only I can hear. "Marry me anyway. Be my servant-wife. Live powerless in the palace, warming my bed when I'm bored with your sister. Or die in the Cinderfalls with the other trash we discard."
Something inside me—some tiny spark that survived the stripping—flares to life.
I gather all the blood pooling in my mouth from where the guards hit me.
And I spit it directly into his perfect face.
"I'd rather die," I rasp.
For a moment, shock crosses Aldric's features. Then rage. Cold, calculated rage.
He stands slowly, wiping the blood from his cheek. "You just made the worst mistake of your worthless life."
He turns to the guards. "Take her to the Execution Platform. Throw her into the Cinderfalls. Tonight. Now."
The crowd gasps—some excited, some horrified. The Cinderfalls is the gray wasteland far below our floating city. A place where the powerless are thrown away to die slowly in ash and despair.
No one survives more than a few days there.
The guards drag me toward a side door. I try to fight, but without my magic, I'm weak as a child. My former friends line the path, and every single one turns their backs as I pass.
Lady Evelyn, who I had tea with every week.
Lord Marcus, who once said I was like a sister to him.
Even my childhood tutor, who taught me to read.
All of them, turning away.
I'm truly alone.
The guards take me up a winding staircase to the highest point of the palace—the Execution Platform. It's an open-air balcony that extends out over the edge of our floating city.
Below us is nothing but empty sky and clouds.
And far, far below that—too far to see—is the Cinderfalls.
"Any last words?" one guard asks, not unkindly.
I look back at the palace one final time. Through the windows, I can see the party resuming. See Aldric and Maris dancing together. See everyone celebrating like I never existed.
"I hope," I say quietly, "that one day, everyone learns the truth. And when they do, I hope they remember they chose lies."
The guard nods slightly. Then he and his partner grab my arms.
And throw me off the edge.
I fall through clouds, through wind, through the sky that used to sing to my magic but is now just empty air.
I fall toward the gray wasteland below, waiting for the ground to rise up and end my misery.
But as I plummet through the darkness, something impossible happens.
A bolt of lightning—wild and untamed—streaks past me.
Then another.
And another.
The lightning doesn't strike me. It arcs around my falling body, almost like it's... curious.
Like it recognizes something in my blood that shouldn't be there anymore.
My magic is gone. The stripping took everything.
So why is the lightning following me down?