The weight of mercy

Leah's POV

The sound of the door slamming behind me resonated through the dim hallway as I exited Keal’s room. My chest felt contsticted, every nerve in my body tense from the argument. His words—his threats—still echoed in my mind.

“Time shall come when I’ll deal with your insolence.”

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts as I hurried down the corridor. My heart raced not only from fear but also from anger, raw and hot. What type of leader flogs his own servants for the sake of power?

As I was getting closer to the hallway leading to my room, I heared haunting sound. Crying. Cries filled pains. The type that can penetrate through your very soul, leaving a deep sadness behind.

I froze and stopped in my tracks, my heart racing. It wasn’t the type of sound you could ignore; it was desperate and pleading for mercy, pulling at something deep inside me.

The cry wasn’t coming from the corridor. It was coming from the disciplinary room down the hall. My stomach twisted violently, dread settling in my gut as my feet moved on their own accord, taking me closer.

The cries became louder with each step I took. It wasn't just cries. They were screams. Pleading for mercy. Cries from people who had nothing left to offer.

“No, please! I've nothing else to tell you! I’ve told you everything—”

“Keep quiet!” a soldier shouted, his tone lacking compassion. The disturbing crack of a whip followed, and the cries turned into raw, guttural sobs, the type that could make your skin crawl and your heart ache.

I got to the end of the hallway and leaned my back against the wall, peering cautiously around the corner. My breathing was shallow, fear and rage clashing within me.

The door to the disciplinary room was slightly open, the light spilling out like a harsh beacon. I could see the cooks indide—Celia, Rosa, Esme, Mira, and Bella—lined up, their arms tied to wooden posts. Soldiers loomed over them, delivering merciless lashes with a thick leather whip.

The sound of the whip slicing through the air was like a thunder, and each strike left deep, crimson welts on their already battered backs. I felt neuesa rise in my throat as I saw the blood dripping down from their skin, soaking into their clothes and forming pooling on the floor beneath them. The 

 metallic scent mixed with the sweat and tears in the room, creating a suffocating atmosphere.

My breath hitched, and tears filled my eyes. I understood the punishment was brutal, but seeing it—seeing them—shattered something within me.

Rosa, the chief chef, looked worst. Blood stained her clothes, and her body leaned against the bidingdms  as if her spirit was barely holding on. Her back was a gruesome mess of torn flesh, the whip created deep cuts. I could see her shaking, though it looked like she didn’t have the strength to cry out anymore. Her face was pale, her lips quivering with the effort to stay conscious.

Celia, the youngest amongst them, was whimpering softly, her face resting against her arm. Her once-bright eyes were red and swollen, and her frail body trembked with each sob. Her wrists, tightly bound, were chafed raw, the skin red and blistered. She flinched with each whip crack even when it wasn’t aimed at her.

Esme’s lip was split, and her cheek was a dark shade of purple, from repeated strikes. Tears flowed freely down her face, mixing with the dirt and blood smudged across her skin. Her breathing was shallow, each breath seemed like it caused more than the last. Mira and Bella bore similar wound bruises, welts, cuts—but it was their eyes that haunted me the most. They were hopeless. 

“This is madness,” I mummured to myself, my voice shaking. My fists tightened as ear rolled down my cheek. I stood there, frozen and helpless as the soldiers carried out Keal’s cruel orders. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart, the weight of their agony pressing down on me like a physical force.

“Monsters,” I hissed under my breath. The word escaped my lips, filled with all the venom I could gather. But even that felt like it wasn't enough. No word could describe the horror of what I was witnessing.

The cries continued to resonate  in my ears long after I turned and left the place. By the time I got to my room, my face was filled with tears. I slammed the door shut behind me and leaned against it, my heart pounding in my chest.

I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I had to help them.

The hours dragged on, every tick of the clock wearing on my nerves. My mind replayed the scene over and over—the blood, the cries, the broken bodies. By the time the moon hung high in the sky, the castle had fallen into an uneasy stillness.

I quietly slipped out of my bed,  careful not to make a sound. Grabbing my herb pouch and the salves I had used on Keal’s wounds, I crept to the door. My heart raceing as I cracked it open and peered into the dark hallway.

The hallway was clear.

I slipped out quitely, holding my pouch tightly as I made my way toward the cooks’ room. Shadows danced on the walls as the faint glow of the torches illuminated my path. Every step felt like a risk, my ears straining for any sound that might indicate a guard nearby.

When I got to their door, I knocked gently.

But there was no response.

I knocked again, this time whispering, “It’s me, Leah. Please open up.”

The silence lingered for what felt like an eternity before I heard shuffling inside.

“Who is there?” a voice whispered, filled with fear.

“It’s me, Leah,” I said again, my voice low. “I’m here to help.”

There was a pause, followed by the sound of bolts sliding back. The door swung open just enough for me to slip inside before it was quickly shut and bolted again.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of blood and desperation. The room was dimly lit by a single candle, casting trembling shadows on the walls.

The five cooks  lay on the floor, their bodies battered and bruised. Cuts and welts marred their skin, and their faces were pale and streaked with tears. Rosa leaned against the wall, her breathe shallow, her face twisted in pain.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, my voice shaking as I took in the sight. “What have they done to you?”

Celia, the youngest amongst them, shook her head. “Why are you here, Leah? If they find  you here—”

“I don’t care,” I cut her off,  kneeling beside Rosa. My hands were shaking as I opened my pouch and pulled out the salves. “I won't just stand by and do nothing.”

Esme, her voice weak, said, “You shouldn’t be here. This is our burden to bear.”

“No,” I replied sharply, my hands already moving to pull out the herbs and salves. “This isn’t your burden. This is Keal’s cruelty. And I’m very sorry—” my voice cracked, and I swallowed hard—“I’m so sorry that my presence brought this upon you.”