Hello Everyone,
I am a new author and my first story is "The Secrets We Keep"! I plan to turn this into a WebComic once the Novel is complete. So, if you help me reach 100 subs, I will like/comment/subscribe to your story in return. (Just like this post when you've subscribed) Here is a short excerpt from my novel to see if you might enjoy reading before you subscribe! SPOILER ALERT FOR BELOW:
ll I watched as Gorvyn tied Cyrus to the post, yanking the ropes tight before pulling a whip from his coat. The whip dangled menacingly from his hand, its leather tip brushing the ground as he addressed the crowd.
“This young Mongrel thought he could defy the King’s will by undoing the punishment I rightfully inflicted. So now, he will face double the lashings!”
The crowd was silent, the tension thick enough to cut. All eyes were on Cyrus, whose chest was heaving as he struggled to catch his breath after being released from the magic of the brand. His blue eyes met mine for a moment and I saw his resolve, mixed with a pain he wouldn’t allow to break him.
“Your crimes,” Gorvyn continued, “include aiding that thief and using forbidden magic. Do you disagree?”
Cyrus lifted his head with a quiet defiance that sent a shiver through me. “The only crime here is your lie– calling Josiah a thief. Your kind are the ones stealing from our people.”
Gorvyn’s face twisted into a snarl. “What the fuck am I stealing from you? You have nothing of value to me.”
Cyrus met his eyes, glaring, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “Our lives and our freedom,” he growled.
Gorvyn’s eyes flashed with fury as he raised the whip high. “Your punishment is fifty lashes.”
Cyrus looked forward again, determination on his face. “Then, go ahead. Do your ‘duty’.”
My eyes met his as I ran up. I had to save him from this. I couldn’t sit back and watch as he was beaten into submission.
But, I stopped in my tracks.
Cyrus's eyes stared at mine with sadness and determination, and he shook his head slowly, telling me not to intervene. The realization hit me like a meteor strike. I wanted to intervene, to shield him from the cruelty being inflicted, but his gaze held me back. I knew what he was doing.
I took a retreating step, my body weak with defeat. I watched, every muscle in my body tensed, as the first lash struck Cyrus’s back. His body jolted with the impact, but he remained silent, teeth gritting against the pain. The crowd flinched with every crack of the whip, yet no one moved to stop it.
“You’re insane, you know that?” I whispered sadly, knowing he couldn’t hear.
The lashes continued, each one ripping through his flesh and tearing at the seams of his shirt– and my composure. Serf Seraphiel and I let out a whimper with every blow, and I could see the tears pooling in his eyes from watching the pain inflicted on his son. Blood was staining the wood beneath Cyrus, a grim reminder of the cost of defiance. Still, Cyrus refused to cry out. His silence was louder to the crowd than any scream.
Whispers of unrest rippled through the onlookers, their eyes wide with a mixture of horror and something else– something that tasted like rebellion.
“Do you see this?” Grovyn shouted, his voice hoarse from the exertion. His body was clearly tired and he staggered to the left, loosely holding the whip. “This is what happens when you defy the King! Remember this well!” ll
