J

It's torture being locked inside a weather-beaten prison, unable to move, unable to blink or look away while she suffers at Carver's hands. My stone heart bleeds for her as I watch her suffering, day in day out, unable to do a damn thing about it.

As I strain my immovable gaze towards her window, a soft, warm breeze caresses my stone face. Summer is almost here.

The scent of flowers fills the air, the sweetness intermingling with her faint cries. It tugs at something deep within me, a dormant longing that has been buried for centuries. I won't fail this time.

In a sudden surge of determination, I summon every ounce of strength I possess. With great effort, my limbs crack and groan, slowly inching forward. Dust swirls around me as ancient joints awaken from their slumber. It's an agonising process, but the pain is inconsequential compared to what she endures.

Finally, as the sun sets, I break free from my petrified state, stumbling forward with unsteady steps. My body creaks and protests against the movement, but my will drives me onward. The glow of dusk illuminates my path as if guiding me towards her as I spread my wings and take flight.

I reach her window, my hand trembling as it extends toward the glass pane. A whisper escapes my lips; a wordless promise filled with solace and compassion. Placing my palm flat against the invisible barrier between us, I feel a flicker of warmth radiating from within.

She stirs in her slumber.