Page 84 of Crown of Light and Ashes
"By the twilight stars," Banu gasps through chattering teeth, her tiny hands flying to cover her ears, her usual humor strained as she tries to process what she's witnessing. "Make it stop!"
The scream continues, impossibly long, as if he doesn't need to breathe. I realize with dark satisfaction that I'm modulating his body's functions, preventing him from passing out, keeping his vocal cords intact despite their strain.
"Yes," I breathe, a shiver of satisfaction running through me. "There it is. The sound I've been waiting to hear again."
I flash a smile at my audience. "The acoustics in here are marvelous, don't you think? Such clarity in his suffering."
"The etiquette of dying," Banu manages weakly, her voiceshaking as horror overwhelms her usual wit. "Now there's a book I pray no one ever writes."
"Chapter One: When Dismembered, Stay That Way," Emir adds dryly, though I notice his complexion has paled considerably.
"Both of you shut up," I snap without turning. "I'm creating art here."
"If disemboweling is art, I'd hate to see his sculpture," Banu whispers to Nesilhan, who, despite everything, makes a sound that might almost be a laugh.
Another hound circles around, tearing into Damir's side, exposing ribs and pulsing organs without fully removing them. Blood sprays in elegant arcs across the cottage walls. The sight kindles a dark artistic appreciation in me—the red so vivid against the dull wood.
His scream changes pitch, rising to a sound so high and terrible that Banu's wings actually falter, sending her dropping several inches before she recovers. A glass vial on a nearby shelf cracks from the vibration alone.
"Sweet mercy," she whispers, her face ashen. "I didn't know a human throat could make that sound."
"It can't," Emir replies grimly. "Not without... assistance."
"You see," I explain to my victim, circling him as he writhes in my shadows' grip, "last time was so rushed. No finesse. No opportunity to truly savor your departure from this realm."
I make a simple gesture, and my shadows begin to coalesce inside his wounds, forming tiny needles that pierce nerve endings.
"Do you remember how it felt?" I ask, genuinely curious. "When my shadows tore through you from the inside? When they broke through your skin, your eyes, your throat? Let me refresh your memory."
The shadows inside him shift, recreating the exact pattern of his first death. His body convulses violently, a new scream tearing from him that doesn't sound human anymore, a soundso saturated with agony that it seems to have physical weight hanging in the air. The cottage's remaining windows shatter outward, unable to withstand the vibrations.
Banu actually retches, turning away to compose herself. Emir's hand moves unconsciously to his sword hilt, knuckles white with tension.
"Is this really necessary?" Emir asks quietly, a question he would never normally dare.
"Too much?" I ask innocently. "Let's try again. Perhaps with more... attention to detail."
I repeat the process, my shadows pulsing through his body in waves, each one bringing a new variation on his original death. Through it all, I keep him conscious, refusing to let him retreat into the mercy of unconsciousness.
His third scream is somehow worse than the previous two—a sound that appears to come from somewhere beyond the physical realm, as if his soul itself is being shredded. It modulates between frequencies that make my teeth ache and ones so low they vibrate in my chest.
"I've heard death cries of a thousand species across five realms," Banu says, her voice shaking, "and nothing—nothing—has ever sounded like that."
"Lord Kaan has unique methods," Emir manages, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"That's one word for it," Banu mutters, then winces as another scream tears through the air.
The sound is so raw, so primal, that even Nesilhan—who has more reason than anyone to want Aslan to suffer—covers her ears, tears streaming down her face.
"Fun fact," I announce to the room, raising my voice to be heard over the continued screaming, "shadow magic can trap a consciousnessin the exact moment of its most extreme suffering. Like capturing a scream in amber. Eternal. Preserved."
"Sweet merciful twilight," Banu whispers, her healing magic faltering momentarily.
"That's..." Emir starts, then swallows, "...not a commonly known application of shadow techniques."
"I've always been an innovator," I reply, before turning back to my victim. "You'll be experiencing this particular death sensation for eternity. Consider it my wedding gift to you."
"K-kill me," he finally gasps, the words barely intelligible through the blood bubbling from his lips. "Please..."
