Young Writers Society

BRYSTIANNE

She was bruised everywhere, yet she stood up on wobbling legs. Everything hurt, but the person in the cell with her wouldn't answer. She was afraid that whoever was with her was half dead.

"Who's there?" she snapped, angrily. She was surprised and pleased to hear her old impatience and attitude returning to her.

With much needed courage flooding her, she strode towards the person in the room with her. But nothing could prepare her for what she saw next.

Manarian. Except...he wasn't really the Manarian she knew. His skin looked sickly milk white and stretched across his bones in a painful looking way. His silvery blonde hair that was normally well-kept was tangled and looked so flat and dull.

But it was his eyes that Bree knew would haunt her for as long as she will live. The life had vanished from them. They had always looked so sad and distant, but now it was as if he wasn't even seeing Bree. Like there was a veil between them.

"Oh my...Manarian," Bree gasped, falling to her knees in shock and horror. "What's happened to you?"

He didn't answer. He didn't really show a sign that he'd even heard her. Bree's heart pounded in her chest and her mouth went cotton dry. They had to get out of here.

"Manarian," she whispered. "come on. Help me look for a way out. How long have you been here? You look...different."

She was going to say terrible but she decided that in a time like this, she had better practice being a little nicer. And she couldn't help but be unnerved by his appearance. It was like he had given up. Bree wouldn't let him. They had to fight back!

"Come on," Bree sighed, her voice shaking. "We can't just sit here and wait for them to pick us off. We need to fight."

*He's not worth much right now, is he? *

Manarian

Manarian raised his head to look at Bree. She had a point, and he knew it, but he could not seem to find it within himself to rise. He felt like asking her why he should fight, but yet again, the will to do anything escaped him. He just looked at her for a while before closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall. What was the point, after all, in resisting?

Eighth-

I found a medic, a feeble old woman, who dressed my wounds with shaky hands. I glared at her the entire time, making her quiver even more. She happened to have a mirror, one of the only in the Kingdom. I glanced in the foggy glass, and saw that I was far worse off than I had thought. A long scar snaked over my eye and down my face, although I didn't quite mind that. It added some character. My neck, on the other hand, was a network of scars, and the area around my ankles that hadn't been covered was criss-crossed with red streaks as well.Damn that storm Rider. My hair, which was normally well past my shoulders, has been singed off so it hardly met them. I grabbed a knife from my belt and cut off the charred ends. That part of me, at least, was easily fixed. The old woman finished dabbing dressing on my wounds, and I left, fingering my new facial scar. I supposed it added an element of toughness. I walked back to the castle. Two Riders had been captured, and both had information I needed. I took out a knife and examined it almost lovingly. It's silver blade would meet flesh soon.

BRYSTIANNE

"Manarian!" she yelled, angrily. "What's wrong with you?"

Again, he looked at her with vague eyes that gave the impression of not really seeing. He looked so tired. Like all hope for the riders had left him. Brystianne ground her teeth together irate with him.

"Manarian you listen to me now!" she hissed in a threatening whisper. "We're going to get out of here. Understood? We're going to keep fighting and we'll never give up. Ever. Do you want to fight for what's right or are you just going to let these...monsters get away with murder?"

Manarian looked as hopeless as ever. His lower lip twitched as if he was considering speech but kept quiet. His shoulders slumped and his eyelids slowly drooped. Brystianne had the terrible sense that something soul shattering had happened to him. The only thing that came to mind is one that Brystianne would refuse to believe. In fact, she couldn't imagine it happening to her. She would die. There wasn't a doubt about it.

"Where is the Manarian I knew who took charge? Or was that only an attitude you showed when things were easy?" Bree asked, continuing on ruthlessly. "You know, I even looked up to you. I'd never admit it before because I tried to hard to be strong and brave and just good. But you're just a fraud. I guess I tried so hard to be the person you pretended to be. Now I see you're just a coward."

Bree heard a door open. This was what she had been dreading. The torture. Everything. She would give nothing away. No matter the cost.

"I always thought I was the coward," she said, unable to hold back. "You are. I won't even be surprised if you turned traitor."

With that said Bree stood and faced the person entering the room. If she took her first maybe they wouldn't torture Manarian. She wasn't doing this for his sake, but for all the good riders who were still fighting.

"Come and take me. Too bad I'll never tell you anything," Brystianne hissed. She didn't trust Manarian to keep their secrets. Not anymore. Bree needed to keep them occupied so Manarian couldn't give away anything.

**Whew. That was a pretty decent sized post. xD Bree's so mean sometimes, sorry Kelcia. Stupid girl. lol**

Eighth-

I entered the tower, where the Storm Rider immediately hissed at me. "Come and take me. Too bad I'll never tell you anything," she spat. I smiled. "Don't worry, my dear girl. You'll get your chance soon enough." I said, grabbing the boy who was slumped over on the floor. The girl made a lunge, but she was unarmed and weakened. I kicked her away. "So eager. Is this one weak, then?" I mused, looking the boy in the eye. A water Rider. They were the most fun to torture. I dragged him out to the cell next door, throwing him in. He didn't even try to resist. Had he simply given up? "What's your name?" I asked. He mumbled something incoherent. "What's your name?" I asked, louder this time. "Manarian." he mumbled. "And the girl? What's hers?" He said nothing. I struck him across the face, and let fear flood his mind. "B...Bree.." He murmured. "What is your battle plan?" I asked, looking at his crumpled form. He bit his lip, struggling not to tell. I grabbed a dagger and dug it into his palm. He closed his mouth, but still screamed, a strange muffled noise. I scratched my signature 8 on his forehead. He was officially my prisoner now. I kicked him, hard. He would tell me, eventually. Everyone cracked under pressure.

Manarian

Manarian fingered the bloody eight carved into his forehead. It reminded him vividly of the cut Zara had recieved in the exact same place. An image of her face suddenly flashed in his mind’s eye, and an almost unexpected surge of pure fury washed through him. The emptiness he had felt since Reitsprea’s death was gone. He rose shakily to his feet, and looked Eighth in the eye. She had been there, during their fight. She surely knew what had happened.

“What,” he began slowly, “Did you do with my dragon?” the Shadow Rider scowled and slapped him.

“I believe I was asking the questions,” she snarled. Manarian was undeterred.

“What did you do with her?” He asked, louder and advancing a pace. He roared in frustration when the rider did not immediately answer. “What did you do?” he yelled, panic seeping into his tone.

*actually, the 8 is on his forehead. she also decided it would be fun to just cut his hand to make him talk. no 8 on his hand*

Eighth-

The man was furious. I smirked. Would he really try to attack me?
"Your dragon's condition isn't important as of now. Suffice it to say that while you're alive, it is as well. So I suggest you listen up." I said, kicking him back to the ground. I hated when prisoners got cocky. I spread more fear over his mind, and he sat, paralyzed. I cut a long line across his face. "Now, tell me." I said, as he cried out in pain and fear."What is your strategy?" I asked. "I suggest you speak up. We wouldn't want anything... bad to happen to your friend in the other room, now would we?" I asked, kicking him in the gut. He wouldn't be able to resist much longer.

*Okay, I fixed it. But you do know that Reitsprea really is dead, right?*

Manarian

Manarian had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out again. He tried to block out the Rider’s words, not to hear anything she said and to ignore her questions. He would not tell her anything until she told him what they had done to Reitsprea’s body. Eighth had said that she was alive, and Manarian wanted more than anything to believe her, but he could feel the void in his mind where his and Reitsprea’s connection had been.

“We wouldn’t want anything… bad to happen to your friend in the other room, now would we?” He heard Eighth say in a threatening voice.

Bree, he thought, trying to remember what she had told him. She said we had to fight.

He tried to rise again, but overwhelming fear pinned him down. This new, seemingly unconquerable fear galled him beyond belief. It could not be suppressed, nor could it be soothed by rationed thought. He simply couldn’t deal with it.

“Damn you,” he muttered through clenched teeth. A sharp kick. Eighth threatening. More questions. “No,” he groaned, trying to fight the fear. “No.”

BRYSTIANNE

"Fight him!" She screamed from her cell. "Don't give in! Manarian, fight!"

Her throat felt raw and her voice was begining to leave her. Still Bree beat her fists bloody against the walls and yelled anyway. Manarian had to fight. He just had to.

Brystianne remembered the hopeless look in Manarian's eyes and shivered. Would he have the strength to continue? If he had given up, if he thought that it was hopeless, then Bree knew something was wrong. Manarian had always been so strong. Despite her attitude, she had known he was a true leader. She had even listened to his plan. Her stomach clenched at the thought of him being tortured now. But, it had been a decent amount of time so he had to be fighting the girl...he just had to.

"Fight him!" Bree yelled, louder. "Come on, Manarian! Be a man! I trust you to keep us safe! Don't give him any information!"

Someone, not the girl who was torturing Manarian, but another female entered Bree's cell. Brystianne bared her teeth like a rabid animal defending itself.

"Hush up, you," she told Bree.

Brystianne raised her chin, her knotted, flame-red hair hanging around her face in crazy waves. She knew better than to smart off, but that didn't mean she had to sit here and take it. So Bree smirked at the girl and shrugged, waiting for her to leave where she would continue to shout encouragement to Manarian, even though he wouldn't be able to hear her.

Alice:

The girl's screaming was driving me mad. Finally I burst into her cell and said annoyed "Hush up, you." She gave me a menacing look and bared her teeth but it didn't phase me. So I said with annoyance "Next time I have to come in here you're not even going to be able to whisper, got it?" Without waiting for an answer I turned on my heel and left. God! She was just getting so annoying.

Kelcia wrote:*Okay, I fixed it. But you do know that Reitsprea really is dead, right?*

Oh... so dragons die when their Riders die, but not vice versa? Let's just pretend that Eighth was lying.And whiteTiger, Eighth is a girl...

Eighth-

So the boy knew that his dragon was dead. He had simply given up. He wanted to die. I kicked him again. I wouldn't be getting anything out of him. But I wouldn't give him the pleasure of death either. I would try the girl next, see if I could leak anything out of her. If she could hold, I had other tricks up my sleeve. I planted a harsh kick at the boy's chest and walked out, locking the door behind me. It was the girl's turn, now.

**Sorry, Dreamy! I'll fix that. The bad thing is, I knew that Eighth was a girl. I referred to Eighth as 'her' to begin with. Don't know why I put him in the beginning. Sorry about that!**

BREE

"Manarian, fight!" Bree yelled, knowing it would agitate that other female that had checked in on her. "Come on!"

The door to her cell opened. Brystianne grinned at her, laughing.

"I'm so sorry," she said sarcastically. "Am I annoying you? I'll be sure to keep it down next time."

The voice that laughed sent shivers down Brystianne's spine. That wasn't the girl from before. In fact...that was the one Bree believed to be torturing Manarian.

"Actually, you can scream as loud as you wish now, storm rider," the woman smiled, coldly.

Bree understood her meaning. It was her turn to be tortured. And she knew that this cruel, proud girl would make her scream. Brystianne, though still very afraid, held her ground.

"Maybe. But you'll be wasting your time. I won't tell you a thing," she hissed.

Bree just hoped that Manarian kept quiet. Her heart dropped. She wouldn't have had a doubt with the old Manarian but now...she wasn't sure that he even lasted a minute. Still, this girl wouldn't get anything from her lips.

Eighth-
"Maybe. But you'll be wasting your time. I won't tell you a thing," the girl hissed. I didn't care, honestly. I just wanted to make her pay. Pay for the new scar on my face. There were methods other then torture I could use to get information out of them both. And there were other Riders. Young, inexperienced ones I could use if the girl really wouldn't talk. I flipped out a dagger, and coated her mind in fear. "Maybe you won't tell me. But I certainly wouldn't call this a waste of time." I said, scratching an 8 onto her forehead. She screamed, and I smiled.

BREE

She hadn't been ready for the burning pain the knife gave her. Brystianne screamed, her raw throat stinging angrily.

The girl, Eighth she thought was her name, laughed mercilessly. "No, this isn't a waste of my time."

Eighth punched Bree first in the stomach and then in the stomach, making her double over in pain. She was gasping for air by the time the girl grabbed her firey hair so she was looking in her eyes. Brystianne couldn't scream. She hurt so bad but it required energy to muster a scream. Instead she just moaned.

Bree felt fear seep into her mind like a frozen enemy. Her hands shook and she felt blood trickle out of the corner of her mouth.

"Please," Bree gasped. "I'll tell you everything."

Eighth couldn't mask her shock fast enough. She, looking smug, smiled. "Smart girl. Tell me what you know."

Bree grinned, showing her a mouthful of teeth stained a dark red with blood. "That you will lose. No matter how much you torture me."

Then she laughed, although they turned into pain filled screams as the girl continued her torture, angrily.