The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 396: A Chance Of A Lifetime

Chapter 396: A Chance Of A Lifetime

Falka sighed with a frustrated groan rolling off her lips, but as she succumbed to the hopelessness eating through her, an idea suddenly popped into her head.

She abruptly jolted up from her chair, her golden eyes brimming with hope and something sinister. All those long, miserable years of solitude, she had been acting accordingly in hopes that one day they might release her.

Despite her best efforts to maintain, her hope for release waned with each despairing year that fleeted by. They had labeled her as a monster, they were all afraid of her and perhaps, that was exactly what she would use. She would use their fear against them and in the process, escape.

In all the years she had spent locked away like a foreign entity, every ounce of emotion in her had been buried under a great storm of rage and resentment.

Being locked away for more than a decade would have made anyone lose their humanity, yet, she still retained a fragment of hers, but the rest part of her was already infused with bitterness, she couldn’t see past getting her revenge as well as her freedom.

Falka knew she would be locked in that chamber for the rest of her life until she died, but not if she could help it. It was either get killed or kill and she didn’t hesitate to chose the latter.

As long as her freedom and future depended on it, she would spill the blood of every single creature that stood in her way of escaping.

It would be the highest form of treason against East Ravka, but she was never a part of the kingdom to begin with, she never acknowledged it as her hometown, it was nothing but a pretty dungeon for a chaos like her.

Falka was well aware of how risky her plan was. The dangers and the risks were inevitable, but still, she had to try even though there was a high possibility that failure would be the endgame.

Falka had learned how to fight through the books she read. There were tons of books brought for her almost everyday, the only access she had to anything. Fortunately, the books were quite useful in teaching her how to fight, but it demanded time and as it seemed, she had enough free time in her spare.

Throughout the years, Falka had learned tirelessly everyday on how to battle using her fists and a wooden sword, but she had never gone into a physical combat before, neither could she use her training against the guards.

With just her fists against their countless of swords and being incapable of wielding her powers only made her powerless against them and she was smart enough to understand the ugly odds against her.

But in that instant, Falka couldn’t take it anymore. She knew that what she was planning might presumably offer her head on a silver platter, for the council would never banish her for her crimes, thereby giving her access to her freedom to roam the world freely, rather they would execute her.

Despite being fully aware of her plans being the possibility of her end, she swore that she would take as much of them with her, luckily, the entire council, after all, they made the rules and laws and they had all joined heads together to lock her up like a monster.

She daydreamed of her freedom every day of her life, but between between her freedom and revenge, freedom was at the bottom of the barrel of what she greatly desired for.

Falka craved badly for revenge, to pour out all the rage and resentment she had kept locked within her heart while she was locked. If she was only given one chance, a chance of a lifetime, she would undoubtedly pour her wrath on them and reveal to the world, the monster they had portrayed her to be.

Falka was broken beyond repair, but what she didn’t need was fixing, what she needed to another her raging soul was revenge and to revel in the pain of her wrongdoers, to watch them suffer in pain as they did to her, but she wouldn’t end there neither will their suffering.

She hoped indeed that she would be the reincarnation of the devil as they had named her, because she would be waiting for them all in hell to continue their torment.

But, amidst everyone who had wronged her and imprisoned her for her entire life, there was none she hated more than her own mother, none she wanted to suffer as much.

Falka was repulsed by the sight of her mother everytime she came to her. The cold look and the lack of tenderness and affection whenever her mother looked at her severed the connection between them and as time fleeted, the only link between them was their blood.

Falka wanted nothing more in the world than to watch her mother suffer and burn in the deepest depths of hell. If she had to choose between her freedom and her mother’s suffering, she wouldn’t blink an eye before choosing the latter.

She wanted her to feel the pain and growing torture that she had felt in her prison of solitary. Falka needed her to feel the aching void within her and the lack of remorse for the years she had suffered. She wanted her mother to see the vile of a creature she had created within the years.

Falka wanted her cold eyes to be the last thing her mother saw as she slowly and painfully drained the life out of her.

She would seize to be the little girl who had yearned for freedom and begged her earnestly to go out, she would no longer be the damsel in distress but the cruel monster they had feared her to be.

Falka would no longer try to prove herself that she wasn’t the bad guy in the story, she would no longer try to change their minds about her.

She used to read about heroes in books, how they saved the world from evil, but at that moment, she realized that villains were never made, but created. Perhaps, it was time for a villain to lead the story, perhaps, she would be the villain in her own story and turn the tables around.

Falka’s thoughts were abruptly disrupted when she heard a knock on the door, but she didn’t flinch in the slightest as she stood facing the window, despite hearing the creaking sound of the door as it swung open.

She could hear the clink of shoes as the person strut inside the room. The smell of lavender and olive suddenly wafted into her nostrils and she wrinkled her nose in disgust, aware of who the person was. Her mother or to be more precise, her enemy.

"What do you want?" Still not turning around, Falka asked with a clear voice, every word emphasized with a coldness that snuffed out the warmth in the room, even as the fire crackled brightly.

"What’s with the sour mood? It’s time to take the tonic." The woman’s mutually cold voice rang behind her, gloved with a hardness that never once changed throughout the years.

"I doubt you would be elated while being locked in this sufficating place for more than a decade or would you like to switch places, mother?" Falka spouted out in a dry, sarcastic tone as she veered around to face her.

Falka’s mother, a tall, slender woman in her mid forties, cloaked in a black, billowing robe stood in front of her with an equally stern facade on her wrinkled face.

Her hair, a hue of plain brown and her eyes, the colour of hazel were a contrasting disparity between them in comparison to Falka’s flaming red locks and burning golden eyes.

The woman’s brows furrowed as she extended her hand with a small bottle in it, "Take the tonic." She ordered.

Falka’s eyes darted down to the tonic in her hold. For as long as she could remember, they had been giving her a strange tonic. They had told her that it would help keep her powers under control since she had no control over them.

Not anymore, she wouldn’t be taking it anymore. What she wanted now wasn’t to control her powers, she wanted them to control her and cause chaos upon the kingdom as they had feared.

"The only time you pay me a visit is when you come to give me this tonic." Falka muttered out and her mother’s face twisted in displeasure at her reluctance.

"Take the tonic, Falka or I’ll have to force you." Her mother warned with a stern look.

"No, I refuse to yield to any of your demands anymore. Why should I listen to you when you’ve never heeded my plea, not even once? Why should I be good when you’ve all treated me as nothing but a sinister curse? Why should I follow your rules when I don’t benefit from it? Why should I be a damsel in distress when I can just be the villain who makes my own path?" Falka snapped at her, her golden eyes flaring with contained rage and a flicker of sinister intent brewing within her orbs.

Her mother was left speechless for a second at her unexpected retort. Falka had always been submissive and she had thought it would be that way because she had yearned for her freedom more than anything else, so she always behaved, but today was different.

She could see the swirling darkness in her eyes as she spoke, the air charged with perceptible tension that made a subtle chill skitter down her mother’s spine, despite her best efforts to hide her fear.

As silence engulfed the room, Falka tilted her head to the side with an empty grin tearing through her lips "Why, mother?" She drawled darkly.