The Cost of Freedom
A Mother in the Darkness
Days blurred into nights, weeks passing in the dim confines of their shared cage. Cecile had lost count of how long she had been at the Circus Arcanus, but the pain of transformation, the jeers of the audience, and the ever-tightening grip of her curse remained constants. However, through the darkness, there was one light—Nagini.
Nagini had become more than a mentor; she was Cecile’s protector, her guide, her only semblance of family. She shielded Cecile from Bram’s harsher punishments when she could and whispered stories of the world beyond the iron bars when the girl cried herself to sleep. She scolded her when she tried to claw at the black veins, warning that self-harm would not stop the inevitable. But Cecile was stubborn.
Late at night, when the circus quieted, she would experiment in secret. She tried every method she could think of to slow the curse—binding her limbs so the veins wouldn’t spread, pressing heated metal to the darkened skin to see if it would burn the corruption away. Each attempt left her weaker, her body trembling from exertion, but she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t accept Nagini’s words: You must embrace it, not fight it.
Cecile didn’t want to embrace it. She wanted to be free of it.
The Escape
The night of the escape came without warning. One moment, Cecile was curled up in the corner of her cage, exhausted from another failed attempt to halt the curse. The next, Nagini was shaking her awake, urgency in her dark eyes.
"It’s time. We’re leaving."
Cecile barely had time to process before Nagini wrenched the cage door open. The air smelled of smoke, and outside the tent, voices were raised in chaos. The moment had come.
They darted through the shadows, avoiding handlers and the other performers who milled about in confusion. The plan had been simple: use the distraction—whatever it was—to slip through the gaps in security and vanish into the night. But Cecile was weaker than she anticipated. Each step felt heavier, her limbs sluggish, her breath ragged. She had drained herself too much trying to fight the curse.
They were nearly free when it happened. Cecile stumbled, her body hitting the cold ground just short of the exit. Her vision swam. She heard the shouts of the handlers drawing closer, their footsteps pounding against the dirt.
"Cecile!" Nagini hissed, crouching beside her. "Get up!"
She tried. She truly did. But her legs wouldn’t cooperate, her body weighed down by exhaustion and the creeping darkness within her veins. She looked up at Nagini, panic flickering in her glassy eyes.
Nagini turned to the exit—the path to freedom was right there. Then she looked back at Cecile, her expression warring between desperation and something else. For the first time, Cecile saw hesitation in the older woman’s face.
The handlers were almost upon them.
Nagini made her choice.
She stepped back.
Cecile’s breath hitched. "Nagini—"
But it was too late. Nagini slipped through the opening, disappearing into the night.
Cecile reached out after her, fingers trembling, but then rough hands grabbed her, yanking her back into the grasp of the circus. The last thing she saw before the darkness swallowed her was the glimpse of Nagini’s retreating form, vanishing into the freedom Cecile would never reach.
And then, everything went black.
Pain.
It was the first thing Cecile felt when she stirred back into consciousness. Her body ached, her limbs too heavy to move. Her head throbbed in time with her pulse, and her ribs protested with even the smallest breath. The familiar scent of hay, damp wood, and sweat invaded her senses. She was back in her cage.
For a fleeting moment, she thought the escape had been a dream—a cruel, fleeting fantasy. But then she remembered. The cool night air. The desperate sprint toward freedom. The way Nagini’s hands had gripped her shoulders, shaking her awake with an urgency Cecile had never heard in her voice before.
And then, the moment Nagini had let go.
The betrayal slammed into Cecile harder than the pain wracking her body. A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down as the sound of footsteps drew near.
Bram.
The heavyset handler loomed outside her cage, his lip curled in disdain. He crossed his thick arms, tapping his fingers against his elbow. The dim light from the oil lamps cast deep shadows across his scarred face, making his sneer all the more menacing.
"You and that snake caused quite the mess," he said, voice dripping with venom. "Ran off in the dead of night, left us without our star act. Do you have any idea how much trouble that’s caused?"
Cecile didn’t answer. She kept her gaze fixed on the filthy straw beneath her, her hands curling into weak fists at her sides.
Bram exhaled sharply through his nose. "Where did she go?"
Silence.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I asked you a question, freak. Where is Nagini?"
Cecile shook her head weakly. She didn’t know. She didn’t know because Nagini hadn’t even said goodbye. Because Nagini had left her.
The first blow came swift and sharp, the back of Bram’s hand striking her across the face. Her head snapped to the side, her cheek igniting with pain. She tasted blood.
"I won’t ask again."
Cecile’s breath came shallow, her body trembling. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself.
The next hit sent her sprawling onto her side. The cage bars rattled as her shoulder crashed into them, and she barely bit back a cry. Then came the boot to her ribs, forcing the air from her lungs in a strangled gasp. Another. And another.
She curled in on herself, shielding what she could, but Bram was relentless. Each blow was punishment, each strike a reminder that she was still here, still trapped, still utterly alone.
By the time he stopped, Cecile could barely move. Bruises bloomed beneath her skin, her ribs screamed with each breath, and her head spun so violently she thought she might vomit.
Bram crouched down, gripping the bars. "You best get used to this, little serpent. Until we find another act, you’re all we’ve got." His fingers tightened around the bars as he leaned closer, voice a low growl. "And if you ever think about running again, I’ll make sure you regret it."
With that, he stood, spat on the ground beside her, and walked away.
Cecile didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
The ache in her body was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.
She had no one. No one to fight for her. No one to hold her at night, to whisper stories in the dark.
Nagini had left her.
Nagini had chosen freedom over her.
Tears slipped from Cecile’s swollen eyes, soaking into the straw beneath her. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, bruised and broken, but her thoughts swirled in a storm of betrayal and loss.
A memory clawed its way to the surface—Nagini holding her close, whispering that she would always protect her. That she would never be alone.
Lies.
Cecile closed her eyes, trembling. A bitter, quiet voice echoed in the back of her mind, filled with sorrow and resentment.
The first to betray me was a god, my creator, my mother.