Tirianna

There’s no time here. No beginning. No end.

Just the echo of dripping water and the press of damp stone against my skin.

I don’t remember when I arrived in this place anymore. The days bled into nights, and the nights into the memories inside my own head. Like I’ve been stretched between the past and the present so thin that both are transparent.

All I know is the voice inside me—soft, steady, relentless.

Hold on.

A whisper that feels like breath against my heart.

You were trained for this. You chose this.

I breathe shallowly, my throat thick from dehydration. The copper taste of blood clings to my...