The Rebel and the Charmer - Reaconia Chapter 7

Two young people meet in the most unlikely circumstances and quickly fall in love with each other, revealing their troubled pasts and uncertain futures.

 

Seven: The Rebel and the Charmer

            Patience was all he had these days, in the dark, damp, rank cell where he was confined to. The sound of water dripping onto the stone floor was all that could be heard, along with his breathing and the occasional tap of his foot. He laid on the jut of rock that served as his bed, a thin layer of moldy straw the only thing between the wet stone and his thin shirt. Elias Reidy was lying on his back, his left leg folded, the other one hanging to the ground. His left arm rested on his chest and the other hand sat atop his head, swirling the mess of dirty brown hair. He tapped his foot to the ground again as he was thinking, not about anything important, but as to which direction was south. All he could see was the outline of the ceiling above him, and even if he had a light, the walls would be a pitch black. He had been brought here with a blindfold on in effort to mess with his senses and make him lost, an effort which had worked. He figured, though, that once he found which direction pointed where, he would know exactly where he was. He knew already that he was in the capitol city; the muffled sound of the busy streets beyond the thick walls above him could only belong to a place of great size and splendor.

But now the cell remained quiet, albeit the dripping, and he thought about his directions. His studies had reminded him that in the capitol, nothing but ocean was to the… “West and south,” he spoke to himself, pointing in directions from where he laid on his bed. And forest to the … “East and north.” He knew that he had come from the south, being brought by ship for many days, and the way he was carried into the cell, they took him into a building that faced the sea as he recalled hearing the ocean crash.

South.

He also remembered feeling a breeze that pressed against the left side of his body, with some force, bringing the sounds of the marina and town.

West.

They had turned to his right as they came into the building. He continued directing with his fingers. “East.” And he kept in mind the turn to his left. “North.” Then they had gone down a large run of stairs, so many stairs, descending into the cold. He also remembered turning right, “East again.” And turning right once more. “South.” And going down a large corridor, tripping on the uneven stone. He could still hear the shouts and curses coming from the men inside the cells that he had past, although he saw nothing due to the blindfold. Then, the group of armored men, he deduced three, stopped and turned him to the right. “West.” Then had paused. The last thing he remembered about his black journey was the blindfold being torn off and him being shoved into the dark cell.

Elias stood up, thrilled as ever, and went to the wall opposite the thick, barred metal door.

“You are west!” he said, talking to air. He went up and placed his hands on the wall, feeling the mildew and slime beneath his fingers. “And that means…” He turned to his left and climbed atop his bed once again, sitting on the hard surface.. “You are South!” He set his head against the wet, freezing wall and smiled. He felt so clever. That was the most excitement that Elias had allowed himself in a while. The silence came to him again.

Oh, I almost forgot.

He jumped up and wandered over to a wall. “Hello, North!” he said to it, patting the floor in the darkness until he felt the sharp piece of bone he had found a few days past. He knelt to the bottom of the wall and on the lowest row of bricks, counted slowly. “One, two, three, four…” He continued muttering as he moved his way right, saying a new number every time he felt the grove between two bricks. “…ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen.” He stopped at thirteen and, with the bone, scratched at the brick, carving a small, straight line into its center. He carved for what seemed like an hour’s time, until he was sure a mark was left.

“Thirteen nights in this place,” he said in sudden sadness, “and for what?”

When was the last time I had a morsel of food?

He threw his head back in remembrance, frustrated that he did not know the answer. He placed his hands on his stomach; as a whole, he felt empty. He moved his hands up, and felt every rib beneath his chest, then moved to his face; It had not even been a fortnight, but under his fingers, his cheeks felt sunken and the bones stuck out in a harsh way, the skin around his eyes was gaunt and ruined. He felt along his mouth, gliding over each dip and curve in the jaw under thirteen day’s worth of stubble. He raised his hands above his face, barely seeing them in the dark, and inspected them.

“I am wasting away,” he said to himself. Well, more than before.

He had always been thin; coming from a privileged family in the far south, he got more than his share of food, though it never showed. His mother always said that he used his energy learning, she had brought him up well educated; reading, writing and being sociable where the traits Elias bested. He was not a physical man and hated confrontation, therefore, he had no need of training with swords and shields. He knew he would lose if a fight ever ensued, so he avoided them at all costs. He was brought up amongst ladies; his mother had raised him, and he had barely known his father, meeting him on so few occasions he could count them on one hand. And with three younger sisters, he had not much of a male companion through the years. Others mocked him for being weak, but he knew that there was more to strength than thick arms and skill in battle. He was of a more civilized nature, not like that of the heroes he had always read about in stories. As far as he was aware, the women in his life were the strongest people he had ever known.

A noise stirred him from his thoughts; the first non-drip noise in hours. His curiosity got the best of him. He crawled out of his bed like a cat, lightly on his hands and feet as he crept to the door. “East…” he whispered to himself as he pressed his ear to the cold metal door. There were muffled voices out in the hall and footsteps echoed against the stone floor. They were drawing nearer, the clicking of their boots heels getting louder. As they were passing, he knocked twice on the door, as was his custom, and the two beats resonated throughout.

“Enough of that bloody knocking, scum!” a warden howled at the door. He got more upset every time Elias did it; this was one of his few forms of entertainment. He chuckled to himself, and then jumped back in shock when the guard kicked the door just inches from his face, the unexpected noise ringing in his ears for moments after.

“You don’t usually do that,” Elias said, holding his hands to his ears, stumbling back.

“Well, prisoner, next time there will not be a door between my foot and your face,” the guard shouted back. Elias could tell he was standing just on the other side of the door. Using the guard’s own trick against him, he found an old wet brick and threw it. The rock contacted with the door, and the sound reverberated off the metal. He could hear commotion in the hall and could tell that the b*****d guard was on the floor. Elias laughed to himself heartily.

“I hope you die, swine!!! I hope you die!” the man yelled and Elias kept laughing.

Only in here is confrontation fun.

His laughter made him recall the third day of imprisonment, when the monotony had set in. Without anything to do, Elias thought he was going to go crazy. He then realized that he was still laughing, even after the guards had left.

Perhaps I am.

More moments passed and Elias found himself staring into the black abyss in front of him. He crawled back into bed and laid down. “I must find my way out of here,” he said to himself.

After he had not heard anymore sounds from outside, in the hall or in the streets beyond, he assumed the night was as black as inside his cell, every free man must be asleep. As I should be. The more nights spent in this prison, though, the harder it was to succumb to dreams; some days it seemed all he did was dream, asleep or not. He got confused at one point to when night and day were. “Praise the Gods I was born with a sound mind and a clever wit.”

Thoughts drifted to that of his father. It had been three years, Elias figured, that he had last seen his father, and even then words were not exchanged. The man he once saw as an idol was shrinking in the distance on a ship, running away from his evils, leaving everything behind, including his family: a estranged mother and b*****d child.

Elias appreciated the fact that the ship was drifting off into the dream forming behind his eyelids, and in a moment, his breathing had slowed and the cold flat stone under his back became a comfort, one more accustomed with each night’s sleep.

 

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

 

            When he next opened his eyes, it pained him to see that he was still in a shroud of darkness, having not yet grown accustomed to it. As usual, he did not know what time had passed in slumber. Had it been a day, hours, or minutes? He could not know.

            Time flees from us all.

            This waking was different though. There was noise coming from outside his cell: a jingle of keys against metal, the twisting and clicking of the lock opening, the lifting of the large iron wedge, and the groaning of heavy metal as the door swung on its hinges. A wash of warm air poured into the room, and Elias reveled in it, the fresh air relieving his past days’ of stale stench. The smell of food came in with the flood and made his mouth water.

            “Here you are, dog.” A man tossed a sack of water onto his bed, then a bowl onto the brick, the pottery smashing, leaving a mound of steaming porridge spread among the floor. “You best ration that, knocker, not sure when another will come your way.” He spit as he left, turning and closing the door as Elias scooped the mire onto a broken piece of bowl. He drank from it slowly, sating his hunger, feeling the warmth drift down his throat, he sighed.

            Thank Trea, for this bit of heaven.

            His eyes turned to the water bag, which lay where he was moments ago. He grabbed it with the utmost care and used a gentle force to remove the cork that separated him from his respite. He pressed the bag to his lips and tilted his head back, feeling the drink flow into his mouth, some escaped the sides of his lips and streamed down his chin, dripping onto his shirt.

            In a moment he spit it out and screamed, throwing the bag to North. He screamed some more, than sat next on the floor and picked up his broken plate of porridge, shoveling it down to mask the taste. It was piss, a vicious trick used by vicious men. He felt humiliated, while here, he would never live that moment down. A tear rolled down his cheek; he was always tough on himself.

            I should have been smarter. One can never expect kindness from their captors.

            More ruckus was heard outside. He listened to the sounds of a struggle barreling down the stairs, then the sound of a woman fighting and screaming. A chorus of men’s voices from the cells around him followed, yelling profanities such as, “Welcome, ya sweet c**t!” and “why don’t ya join me tonight, b***h, I’ll keep ya real warm,” as she made her way down the hall. He heard another commotion on the other side of South. A door was opening much like his own had earlier, and this time, a guard spoke:

            “Here’s your new home, young miss, try not to get to comfortable.” They tossed the girl into the cell and she grunted as she hit the floor.

            Elias pressed his ear to the wall, listening intently. The guard seemed kind to her: “Here is a blanket, miss, and a small pillow; a candle and flint if ya get tired of the dark.” She said nothing, and for a moment naught could be heard until the door closed again. The guards’ footsteps disappeared down the hall, yet Elias continued to listen. He could only hear the sound of his breathing until a shuffle caught his attention, a slight movement just beyond the wall. He deduced it was a sob as she climbed onto her bed, which he hoped was more comfortable than his own. This is no place for a lady.

            He wondered what she might have looked like and found himself getting excited; he had not had proper company in a fortnight, and he was told on many occasions that he had a way with women. He listened more; another stir, followed by clicking flint. She was trying to create a spark. After a few tries, he heard a whimper and another sob. He could tell she had not done this before and was getting frustrated. Another couple of clicks, and he heard a laugh, an angelic giggle that could only come from the fairest of girls. She must have done it.

The Gods in heaven then granted Elias another small favor, something caught in his eye and he turned in his cell to see a flickering golden stream pierce through the darkness, like a saintly bridge spanning its way through an abyss of hell. He reached out to touch it, and as he got closer, he had to squint, it was the first time he had seen true light since he was brought down here. He placed his hands in the beam, cutting off the light, and finally could see clearly who he had become, he rubbed his dirty hands on his shirt and looked towards South. The light came through a crack in the wall just five stones above the foot-end of his bed. He sat on his bed and positioned himself to where the light shone on his face; he placed his eye to the hole, hoping to perceive what this girl looked like, and was disappointed when nothing could be seen. The hole curved around a broken piece of rock, allowing the light to bend around it, but not his sight. He sat down again, then after a moment, kneeled up to the chink and thought on what he should say and finally, he placed his mouth to the brick and whispered.

            “Hello?”

            He heard a gasp, and after a brief moment heard: “Who’s there?”

            Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. His heart fluttered in excitement. “I hope I didn’t startle you, I am but a friend.” It felt as if it had been ages since his last friendly conversation.

            “A friend in a prison brings no comfort to my worries,” the girl said. He liked her spirit, though he could tell there was a shake to her voice, full of fear and hesitation.

            “Aye, but no friend in a prison would undoubtedly be less a comfort,” he said back, hoping to calm her. He heard a small giggle, one that she had not intended for him to hear, and he smiled. That’s more like it. She seemed to calm down a little.

            “And yet you still stand a stranger. If I would have a name, I might be comforted but a little.”

            He smiled once again. “Elias, my lady. Elias Reidy from Inclascea, if it please you.”

            “It does please me, and you are from the Plains, sir? Yet so far south. Tell me, what brings you from the edge of the world, Sir?

            “A father’s undoing, acts little known to me before I was brought here.” He paused a moment in recollection. “I have given a name; will the lady grant me the same pleasure?”

            “Not yet,” she said, torturing him.

            “Tell me this then, was it night or day when you arrived here? It seems I have lost track of such matters.”

            “It was night, on Eve of Worship, the moon was at its peak and it was just before midnight. I think it is now well into the morn.”

            A message brought by an angel. He looked towards North, remembering the thirteenth mark he had placed earlier. I was right. He smiled.

            “Thank you,” he said back to her. “I suppose then, that you would like to rest, being it is such an early hour?”

            A moment passed; maybe she had already crawled into her bed. He backed from the wall and lay on his bed, though he would not be able to sleep this night, not at least without a name. He watched the flicker of the light streaming across his cell.

            “Not yet,” was all she said, with what Elias assumed to be a devilish grin, he was intrigued; he hopped back onto his toes and crouched up to the crevice in the wall.

            “What do you require then? I would do anything to hold such company.” He tried his best to be the proper gentlemen he was raised to be, recalling all he was taught growing up.

            “A friend in this place would not prove the worst of ideas,” she said back, “and you don’t have to use such pleasantries. I am but a daughter in a family of modest means, led by the guidance of Trea; and besides, in here, I am no better than you.”

            “What else is there to know about you, ma’am?” he realized what he said. “Apologies, what else is there to know about you, modest girl?”

            She laughed, it was sincere and the loveliest thing he had ever heard.

            “The pleasantries were not all bad, I suppose,” she said through a giggle. “And naught anything of interest is in my reasoning for being here, I would just like an exchange of words to calm the nerves. You should know now that I am quite afraid.”

            “If you are the girl I imagine you to be by your voice, you are too beautiful and too righteous to be in a cell.”

            “You flatter,” she said. “And what else do you imagine me to be?”

            “I am afraid to suspect, in fear of being wrong,” he said gladly. “Perhaps a name would clear the image?”

            “Perchance I should try to gauge you instead, sir,” she said, changing the subject, “I would start with age; I speculate you are not much more than a boy, maybe my age, or that of my older brother. You are from Inclascea, so I assume your family is fairly well-to-do, but yet you are here on your father’s accord. His ‘undoing’ you called it, I would guess he was trouble and never around, and that you were raised by your mother. As of looks, you are not heavy, but  thin. I suppose blond, with fair blue eyes, handsome, and of standard height, with an education higher than most, due to the way you speak. Am I right?”

            Elias smiled. “You have a talent, miss,” he said, “you are true on all accounts but one… I have dark hair, brown like the earth. And I don’t know how old your brother is, but I am more man than boy.”

            He heard a shuffle as she rolled around in bed, she was obviously calmer, “Now it is your turn, Elias.”

            “Let me think for a moment now,” he said. It was difficult to focus on anything except for the sound of his name sung from her mouth for the first time. He forced himself to think of the different things he might say: He could compliment the girl, jest with her, give crude humor, or try his best to be honest. He chose the latter.

            “Well beings you have told me nothing about whom you are or where you are from, this is going to be quite difficult for me. The things you have told me are that you are led by Trea, so you are a religious girl, and that you have a brother, probably very protective. I am going to ignore what you said about being modest, because I feel it isn’t so. You are an attractive girl, both inside and out, and you care for your family and whatever cause led you here, otherwise you would not be here. So you are either passionate or stubborn, or both.” She laughed at that, like he had hoped. “I will guess you have long hair, curled in a way a caring, passionate girl does, and you have fine attire, perhaps a dress, made with the best fabrics, green to match your eyes, which shine in contrast with darker hair, a brown almost black.”

            She started to speak. “You too, sir, are a good player at this-“

            “I am not finished yet, madam,” he said, cutting her off. She laughed.

            He continued guessing. “You were surprised I came from oversea, so I suppose you did not. I don’t see you being the type of person to appreciate cold and hills, so you come from a coastal city in the Woods, Perhaps Bayside, or Isolan even. You had many friends growing up and you can’t complain about your family life; they did everything they could for you and you are rather happy.”

            After a moment she spoke, “Are you finished now, Elias?”

            “I am. How did I do?”

            “Very impressive sir, it seems you know me all too well and we just met not an hour ago. However, there are a few things though, if I may? Although I did come here from across the sea, I am from the Woods. I am of modest means whether you ignore it or not,” she said, her voice bending with a smile that he imagined was on her lips, “and my dress is simple, with gray and red hues, the latter matching my hair. But you were right about my eyes, and much else...”

            “Even though I have never seen you, I would like to call you friend and not stranger,” Elias said, hoping it would not scare her.

            “I think that would be appropriate,” she answered, “my skinny brown-haired, blue-eyed friend.”

            Elias laughed, and said, “My red-haired, green-eyed angel.”

            He heard a deep sigh come from the cell next to him; he could picture the smile on her face, and could hear the flutter in her heart.

            “You toy with the emotions of a maiden,” she said through deep breaths.

            “I have been told I am good with words,” he admitted.

            He heard her sit up in place. He imagined her red hair cascading down her shoulders, between her breasts and down the smooth curves of her back, the thought stirring him to joy.

            “Oh really, sir, and who has told you that? Not your mother I suppose,” she pried; there was silence for a moment.

            “And why should I say when I have yet to receive a name?” he pried back.

            More movement was heard, followed by the clicking of footsteps. Elias could feel her presence right on the other side of the wall, whispered to the chink and he heard her voice clearer than ever before.

            “My name is Elaiyami, sir. Elaiyami McClay.”

            He reveled in the sound. “Elaiyami,” he whispered to himself, careful to not let her take notice. It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard, only to match a girl he was now sure was just as striking.

            “I fear it has become terribly late; I would imagine the sun to be arising in an hour or two. I should take leave to my chambers,” she said, jokingly. “I am glad I met you, Elias.”

            “The pleasure is mine to hold, miss.”

            She kissed her hand and placed it against the wall before turning and walking back to her bed. Elias sat up at the foot of his bed in disbelief; he would cherish the events of this night forever.

            What I wouldn’t give to meet this girl.

            A moment later, the stream of light was put out and even though the world was once again put to darkness, Elias was on a cloud, with the warm sun washing over him. He felt light as a feather and did not want to come back down. He was imagining all the wrong things, he pictured her tight bodice and skirts pulled up past her knees, hair curling around her curves and pooling in the small of her back. He felt a stirring in his loins, and his breath quickening, he turned his thoughts and reached down to stifle his rising urge. He listened for a few moments after darkness set in and heard a faint whispering coming from the room over. It sounded as if his angel was talking to her master, a whisper of prayer that only Trea could here. Elias was sure, though, that he heard his own name once or twice in her speech to God.

            He spoke now: “Oh Trea, lord above, thank you for the angel you sent me in my time of need, now watch over her and keep her safe, in hopes that I may one day set eyes upon my dear Elaiyami.” He finished talking and closed his eyes, though the whispers beyond the wall continued, he closed his eyes and listened, her soft words lulling him to sleep, the most peaceful night he had yet in captivity.

 

 

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

 

            When Elaiyami opened her eyes it was pitch black. She had known it would be, of course, but she thought her eyes would have adjusted better. She was hoping to at least see shapes in front of her. She rolled over in bed, thanking Trea for the pillow she had beneath her head. The left side of her body ached from the way she laid on it during the night; she was not accustomed to sleeping on stones. She sat up in her bed and stood, feeling her way in the darkness, slowly sliding her feet on uneven bricks, her hands outstretched in front of her, she flinched when she came into contact with a cold, wet wall. She brushed a strand of still-curled red hair behind her ear before pressing her face to the stone wall near the chink, or where she thought it to be.

            She stood there for a few moments, listening for any movement, any words, and after a long while only heard a small snore emanating from the cell next to her. She chuckled to herself; she wondered what he looked like just as much as she knew he wondered about her. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a lad that talks in ways to stir emotions like he did last night most likely had a devilish grin to match. She had been kept awake with such thoughts. He seemed the type of man that her brothers had warned her about: the sweet-talking trouble maker that expected only one thing from a woman. Elaiyami had actually enjoyed the conversation she had with Elias the night before, it excited her. He was the reason for her sleeplessness; it was the first time in her life that had happened.

            She pressed her ear to listen again, and only heard the sound of heavy breathing.

            How endearing. She laughed to herself again, silently.

            She wondered about the time. How long have I been asleep? How long had Elias been asleep? She wanted to light a match, but was afraid of making too much noise, even though she was growing tired of the dark. She did not want to wake her sleeping trickster. She stumbled back to her bed and pulled her blanket around her shoulders. Tucking back her hair with a covered hand, she then picked up her feet and turned until her head rested upon her pillow once again. She could just wait until she heard movement.

            After a moment or two, her eyelids once again became heavy and she started to drift off into sleep when she heard a rattle at the door: a jingle of keys against metal, the twisting and clicking of the lock opening, the lifting of the large iron wedge and the groaning of heavy metal as the door swung on its hinges. Light flowed in through the ajar door and the first thing to enter the room was the torch, carried by a guardsman with a blue cloak attached to silver armor adorned with a remarkable crowned sun emblem, the torchlight making it ever more remarkable. It was the same guard as before; another man followed behind him carrying a tray with wooden steaming bowls, a water sack and even a goblet of sweet southern blush. The guard placed his torch in the iron sconce which hung to the left of the door.

            “These here bowls carry some breakfast for ya, milady, I cooked ‘em me self!” the second man said, he seemed proud, sporting a smile from ear to ear, with rotted gums and black teeth, the few he had left. He seemed a poor man, ragged and dirty; he walked with a limp over to her bed and set the tray down. Elaiyami backed away from him the closer he came. “Thank you, sir, I will remember your kindness,” she said from a distance, remembering her courtesies.

            “Oh, lass, haven’t ye got your light and stone figured out yet?” he said, he leaned over to grab the flint and started striking it, getting sparks instantaneously. Elaiyami rushed over to him, “Please, sir, don’t do that…” She tried to come up with an excuse, wanting not to wake Elias. “…I don’t mind the dark, really.” The man ignored her.

            “A little girl like you shouldn’t be in the dark. Little girls get scared real easy of the dark,” he said to her, continuing to strike the stones. A spark caught and the wick came alive in yellow flame, adding to the torch and filling the room with a soft glow.

            “Get on with it, man,” the guard shouted to the cook, who jumped at the order, pulling out linens and one silver fork and setting them on her tray.

            “Enjoy, child, while it’s hot,” he said, bowing to her so low that his nose almost touched his knobby knees, though he looked ridiculous, Elaiyami was extremely humbled.

            The guard grabbed him by the rough collar of his shirt and pushed him out the door. “Get out!” he said, then turned to Elaiyami. “We shall be by presently, miss, if you desire anything else.” He walked over to her and bent low, grabbing her hand to kiss it. She felt her heart jump, the man was indeed very impressive, a dark handsome face that looked fierce surrounded by armor, he was tall and his hands were warm and smooth.

 “You are very kind, sir, but I---” Before she could finish speaking, he stood and grabbed her arm, pulling her into him and pushing his mouth onto hers. She was taken aback. She tried her hardest to keep her mouth closed as he tried forcing his tongue between her lips. She raised her hands and pushed on his face. Finally prying free of his grasp, she backed away and threw her open hand to his face, the slap causing him to turn away. He slowly looked back at her, a sick smile marred with a spot of blood on his lower lip. He jolted towards her, and she backed away terrified, tripping on her skirts and falling onto her bed. Once he had his joke, he laughed, spinning on his feet, turning to leave the cell. He grabbed the torch and before he left, said one more thing, “Perhaps I’ll forget to bring the noonday meal, you pig filth.” He blew her a kiss and closed the door.

            She was left shaking on her bed; she climbed down and got down to her knees.

            “Dear Trea,” she began, “I express the utmost gratitude for pausing the offense that I saw in his dark eyes, and as I know he will return, as is his duty. I ask you to watch over me, and though your protection is mighty, I ask that you grant me the strength of defense in myself. Your most humble servant.” She reached behind the front laces of her dress and found a silver chain which held a cross of green stones; she held it to her forehead and then touched the metal to her heart. She then stood, darted to the wall and cried out to the second person who crossed her mind.

            “Elias!” she said, pounding on the stone.

            “I am here, milady, I awoke when first your chamber door opened and the light streamed through my cell.” His voice was clear, sounding as if it came from just on the other side of the chink.

            “What did you hear?” she said.

            “Everything.” Elias said back, concerned. “I’m sorry he hurt you, Elaiyami.”

            “Oh, it is nothing, I’ve fought away worse, and anyways, I have Trea's protection now, I prayed first thing asked for special attention.”

            “And then came to me,” Elias said, “I am glad I came second to your thoughts.” He joked.

            Elaiyami was somewhat taken aback, He knows I had a feeling for him last night. She felt ashamed. “Only for the reason that we are alone down here,” she said defensively.

            That caused Elias to lose his smile, “I meant no disrespect.”

            “I know, sir, must still be my nerves. Apologies.”

            Elias sat with his back against the cell wall, the beam of light shining across the room, emanating just to the left of his head, he watched the flicker as he thought. The light was a godsend; he could faintly see the features of his room, the bone on the floor, a reflection of the metal door, and the marks that he had carved into the bottom of the wall, they reminded him to carve another. He shuffled off his bed and walked on the cold bricks, picking up the bone and went to the appropriate brick, not having to count this time, he could see where he left off. In the light it had appeared that others had done the same, he wondered about them, who they were, how long ago they had been there, and if they were just like him. He took the piece of bone, placed it to the brick and pressed hard, grabbing it with both hands to carve a line, indicating the fourteenth day of capture.

            Elaiyami heard the scratching sound, and turned to the wall blocking the light from Elias when she passed in front of it. “What are you doing?” she asked.

            “Carving into the wall, it helps me keep track of my time here.” Elias said back. Their exchanged words seemed cross today, the morning's events having rattled them.

            “And what mark are you carving now?” She was curious.

            “Fourteen, miss.”

            She was shocked, “Oh my, Elias, I had understood you were in here but two or three days. I could not imagine being in here any longer. I am sorry for you.”

            A moment passed with only a scratching noise filling the air. She sat down on her bed and picked up the tray of food that had been left, she lifted the wooden lid off of the bowl which released a cloud of steam, a thick porridge was underneath, and under a cloth, an apple waited to be eaten. She grasped a wooden spoon and dipped it in, stirring the pot. She stuck a spoonful into her mouth and chewed a couple of times before letting it slide down her throat, washing it down with her glass of wine. A realization came to her.

            “The guards and cook came to my room, but not to yours this morning.” She put the tray aside, and went to the hole. “Are you well, Elias?” She was immediately concerned.

            Elias looked to the broken pieces of plate with the small amount of cold food still left in its curves. “I am fine, dear Elaiyami, they came to my cell not an hour before you were brought here.” He failed to mention that the visit had only been the fifth trip to his cell, and only the fourth offering food. He looked down at his thin hands and once again felt his ribs. “No reason to worry.” he said, though there was reason plenty, not that she needed to know.

            Elaiyami could tell there was a fault in his story, but she swallowed her questions. “I am glad to hear it.” She looked at her tray of food again, and made herself promise not to eat anymore until Elias had gotten some.

            “I haven’t seen any light coming from your side of the wall either, Elias. You were submerged in darkness before I came to join you, weren’t you? How horrible that must have been.” As much as she ignored the cook’s words, she was afraid of the dark, ever since she was a little girl; her father told her that was where all the demons lurked.

            Maybe he was right; she chuckled to herself, thinking of Elias.

            Elias continued carving, and just as he brought the bone down the brick, his hand slipped and it shattered, a splinter going into his right arm just below his wrist. The wound reddened and droplets formed from underneath his skin. He winced as blood ran down his arm, dripping onto the floor. He held back a shout as he pulled the bone out, tossing it aside. He wrapped his hand around his arm, holding the wound, as blood escaped between his fingers.

            Elaiyami flew to the chink when she heard something clatter to the floor, “Elias, what happened?”

            “Simply an accident, carelessness. Never you mind.” He looked around for something to wrap his arm in. He tore off the left sleeve of his shirt and wrapped the dirty cloth along his arm, which stung when the cloth made contact. The thin bandage was stained and wet in a matter of seconds. He did as much as he could, and watched the blood drizzle until it turned to a slow drip. He got up and walked to his bed, laying down and propping his arm against the wall, elevating his wound. He could hear the girl breathing on the other side of the wall; she seemed on the brink of tears.

            “I want to see you, Elias,” she said through struggled breath. “I fear for you.”

            He was taken aback. “No need, madam, I am quite alright,” he lied, trying to console her. He truly did fear for his fading health and wits. Though the company was much improved, he knew he could not endure much more.

            “A fortnight spent hungry and dark,” she said, “terrible, just terrible.” Her words brought a tear to his eye, he was miserable; the way they treated him was unjust and cruel. Talking about it though made him feel weaker and ever more aware to his sufferings. “I cannot imagine your misery, sir"“

“What did you do that brought you here, Elaiyami?” Elias said, changing the subject for the both of them.

            She sighed; she was amazed at how composed he was. So quiet on such matters. she ached to know what was happening with him. She took his hint, and sat down on her bed.

            “My father is the concierge of the Monastery of Isolan, where I am from. Other religious houses and temples in the surrounding parishes and towns had been destroyed, rumored on word of the royal council. When they came to our doorstep, looking to take us down, my father denied access, and fought back. He is just as passionate as I am.”  She heard Elias’ chuckled and laughed too. “Only a small party had come to talk with my father and I heard that they were all killed, but I do not know for sure. And after they were gone, my father ,Vittorio, was enraged. He and his childhood companion, Cirrus, a man I called uncle, took it upon themselves to bring to an end the destruction of our abbeys and houses. They had me write letters to our loyal companions of God, asking to join the cause of religious freedom. And soon after the messages were sent, we had hundreds of our friends flocking to our home. Isolan was the perfect place. We were all to meet as one, and sail east to Lossain, out of reach, on a pilgrimage to gain back what was lost.”

            “Well, miss, I must say I am pleased that you made your destination, though, I am sure you had a different outcome in mind.” Elias said to her.

            “A different outcome was in mind!” she said laughing. “The missing envoy, of course, attracted attention and some of our messages had gone astray… we were surrounded before we could depart.”

            “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

            “Oh, what a day,” she said as she rested on her bed, lying on her back, running her fingers through her long hair, reflecting, “My heart sank at the first royal banner I saw on the horizon. There were many times I had stood on the stage with my father and Cirrus preaching about enlightenment and freedom. And I believed every word. My family was so fervent towards the pilgrimage; my older brother Benno and his family lived in Temple Rock, and spread word from there and from my mother’s town of Delray. My other brothers are too young to understand the politics, but they loved writing the letters and notes. I was the only one to stand by my mother and father in our efforts. Our followers loved us and revered us, gathering supplies and materials; we were to make a striking impression when we came on the shore of Lossain. ‘A great number for a great cause’ is what my father always said, but we never got a chance. A great number instead came upon us; royal men and armies, labeling us as rebels and heretics, who came to suppress our ‘uprising.’  And when my father once again denied entry, they used force, breaking in, destroying everything; most of my memories of that day consist of fire.”

             Elias listened to every word she said, so enthralled by her tale that he failed to notice the cold numbness in his hand, which had fallen asleep. He was glad she was telling him this story, it made him feel as if she trusted him, felt comfortable in his presence. Fate had chosen him to be the shoulder to cry on, and it made him feel absolute bliss to be the man she relied on. A smile emanated in the dim light.

            “What happened then? If you don’t mind my asking, milady?” he said.

            After a silence, whether of hesitation or poignant memories he could not tell, she continued, “When the flood of silver and blue came through the gates, people scattered and ran. Never in my life had I seen such desperation. My uncle Cirrus and my father grabbed weapons and told us to hide. I saw my mother grab my brothers and run, darting through people all trying to escape. I tried to keep up as best as I could, but I felt a hand tug on my dress and I fell to the ground. A soldier picked me up and bound me; I heard screaming, my voice thrown in with the choir. I heard that Cirrus had been killed, and that was the last I saw of my mother and brothers or even my father.” Another pause took over. “I don’t know where they are or if they still live.”

            “You are very brave, Elaiyami.” Elias said after a moment.

            “I was so foolish,” she said back, “blinded by hope and change. All the while I knew it was not right, I knew the consequences of our actions. My father always said that the people of the faith will rise and join the cause, but I knew that people loyal to the crown would not see the righteousness in our pilgrimage. We were a band of rebels, and I could never bring up the courage to tell my father what I thought.”

            “I am glad you realize your mistakes, Elaiyami, truly. It means you are not dim.” Elias said, putting his arm back down on his stomach.

            “I had two moons to think of it over the Imball Sea; it never left my mind.”

            “What happens next then?”

            “I would imagine, in time, I am to be brought before the royal council to answer for my father, since I do not know if he too was captured.”

            “You’re here for your father too? That’s one thing we have in common, my dear.” Elias said back, igniting the charm back to flame.

            “I can think of a couple other things, sir. Perchance like wishing that this cold wall between us crumbled,” she said.

            “Or at least a bigger opening, so I could know a face for that angelic voice,” he said.

            She rolled her eyes and laughed. “I suppose more light on your end wouldn’t hurt either,” she mocked.

            “Dear lady, I would give anything to break through this wall to see you, run my fingers through your hair in an embrace, to be the cause of your laughter and the receiver of your warm touch.”

             Her laugh turned to a sigh and a flutter made her chest rise. She turned her head to the opposite wall and placed her fingers to her lips, she had devilish thoughts about this lad she had never met. He knew just what to say to let her troublesome thoughts fly free.

            “A girl could easily be caught in your words if she is not careful,” she said, ever aware that she was letting herself fall under his spell.

            “Does a girl say that from within the trap?” Elias joked.

            “A girl cannot be ensnared when she has yet to receive a gentle touch.”

            “Oh, I do wish for this wall to crumble! Every moment spent awake I do, and in every dream! You must know I do.”

            “Well, sir, I must say it has not been many moments spent awake since first I heard your voice.”

            “They have gone rather fast, and all thanks to you, my savior of the dark, damp cell.” A moment passed before he asked a question that consumed his thoughts, “So what is the plan, my dear?”

            She sat up on the stone. “The plan for what?” she asked.

            “Escape,” was all he said. The world sounded so simple, so naïve. “I, certain as hell, don’t want to spend another day down here in the dark,” he added, once again conscious of his hunger and wounds. He silently crept off his bed and down to the floor next to his broken bowl of cold porridge. He scooped a drop with a dirty finger and placed it on his tongue, savoring the taste. He closed his eyes for a moment in sweet splendor.

            “It cannot be long before we’re allowed to speak to the council. Perhaps they will release us after,” she said, with a glimmer of hope in her voice, though not the answer he wanted.

            “I think they will have very different thoughts on the two of us. We're both here on our father's behalves, but I think they will hold you to higher regards.”

            Elaiyami had never thought of that. A council would certainly listen to the tears of a maiden over the brooding thoughts of a silver-tongued man, who she imagined was dirty and unkempt. She could speak for him, she supposed, but she knew not how that would stand up in court. It would also make him feel humiliated and herself embarrassed. She would think on it; she knew more of his story than anyone else and might be the only person who could help save his life.

            “We will see. I heard our Sovereign family is really very kind and just. Perhaps the small council will be the same. And one doesn’t know how my case will be heard, if you remember I stood as traitor with my father. In that aspect, you stand higher than me in regards.”

            “We will see, indeed, madam,” he said with a small laugh.

            “There is someone coming, Elias,” she said.

            And that was when the sounds once again resonated from the hall beyond the walls; Elias heard the footsteps bouncing off of the stone walls in rhythm. The keys jingled as the guard approached the cell, and the click of the locks, and the groans of the metal door followed… in the room next to his. They had come again to see Elaiyami, who rustled in her bed once the door opened.

            The guard entered with the cook, who once again carried a tray of food with him. “I see you still haven’t given up, miss. I am surprised, girls like you never last a day down here in the darkness,” he said. Elaiyami looked to the chink in the wall; she had Elias to thank for that. The guard waved to the cook, who brought the tray of food in to set on her bed.

“I don’t want it,” she said, backing away. The two seemed surprised at her statement.

“And why not?” the guard said, muscles tensing in the corner of his jaw.

“I am concerned. All the while I have been here; you have not brought food or comforts for the man in the cell next to mine. I would like you to give it to him.” She was nervous, she wrung her hands in a ball and stared at the floor.

Elias was listening to her speak, and when she mentioned him, he wanted to scream. The last thing he wanted was for her to give up anything for his sake, though the thought made his heart soar. He was confirmed in his beliefs… he was falling in love.

The guard spoke again, “Sorry, lass, but that scum doesn’t have a father like yours to provide such comforts.”

She looked at him, shocked. “You have news of my father, sir?! Tell me, how does he fare? What of my family?!”

The cook spoke first, stepping forward, saliva spiting from his mouth, “We do not know of his whereabouts, miss, just of the coin we received for your lodging.” That was not the news she wanted.

The guard pushed the older man aside with his foot. “That is enough, Reemin; you are not here to speak.” He crossed his arms defiantly in front of his silver breastplate. “If you do not want the food, what am I to do with it? The coin has been provided for your keeping, not the man in the cell next to you.”

She turned on a different tactic to try and get them to speak. She looked past the guard and to the cook. “Reemin is your name?” she said, “seems an important name for someone of your standing.” She then looked up to the guard with soft eyes as she brushed her red hair behind her ear, “And what might be your name, gentle knight?” She saw his jaw relax and his defenses fall.

“I am Ser Benton, madam, of the Ember’s of Drakewood.”

A boy from the flame house with the sun emblem, how sweet.

“Well, Ser Benton, beings the tray is paid for, what does it matter where it goes?” She brought her right shoulder down, allowing a fold of cloth to fall, draping her arm. She stood, “I would be most grateful to you if you would give it to the poor boy on the other side of that wall, indebted even.” She tried her best to sound flirtatious, not knowing if it was working.

“It is not up to me to decide that, miss,” he said. She saw a bead of sweat form on his brow and smiled. She bent slowly to pick up the tray, watching his eyes follow her, and when she handed it to him, she bent some, stuck out her chest and squeezed her arms together, giving him a show her family would shun her for. “Please,” she said again.

He reached out an arm and took the tray from her, a choke caught in his throat as he tried to speak, so instead the cook spoke, never taking his eyes off her until he was close.

“I think we can make an exception just this once,” Reemin said, and grabbed the tray, giggling when he stared at the exposed tops of her breasts. He turned and exited the cell on unsure legs.

A flicker of candlelight reflected off silver armor and caught her eye as Ser Benton Ember stepped towards her.

“What are you up too, lass?” he said to her, sternly.

“I am only concerned for his sake.”

He leaned his face close to her exposed ear. 

“Never be concerned again, harpy. His business is none of yours, and the next time, I will make it the Warden’s business to deal with your actions.”

He took a deep breath of her scent before leaning back and reaching for the keys that hung from his belt.

“Remember your debt,” was all he said. He turned on his heels and swung the door shut as he stepped through it, the large block of metal crashing shut into its frame before being locked.

Elias listened all the while to the on-goings beyond the wall. And once he was certain that they were indeed coming to his cell, he bounded to action. He ripped another piece off the shoulder of his linen shirt and, with his piece of bone, stuffed the cloth into the hole in the wall, blocking out the light to his cell. It would be the end of him if the guards saw the light shining through the wall. The rest of the work he did in the dark: hiding the other small scraps of food, and turning to hide his bloodied arm. He messed his hair and swallowed his words to hide his hope. He sat on the bed, cowering, waiting for what seemed like ages before he heard the jingle at his door.

More light flooded into the room and his eyes had to adjust once again, The guards torch was much brighter than the candlelight through the wall. Ser Benton stood by the door and held it open while Reemin slowly walked through, bringing the tray in and hesitantly setting it down on the cold, hard bed. He backed away. “Good eve too you, sir,” he said, bowing.

The guard spoke from where he stood, “Reemin, that’s enough, I want you to leave, and speak of this no more. Now go!” He grabbed the cook by the shirt collar and tossed him down the hallway. The man stumbled and composed himself; he looked back once more before hobbling up the stairs.

Benton stepped into the cell and silently closed the door behind him. He walked towards Elias slowly and grabbed the cup of wine that was on the tray. “Having your b***h do your dirty work, boy?” He placed the cup to his lips and threw his head back, licking his lips after swallowing. “How pathetic can you be?”

Elias tried to play his part. “I do not know what you mean, Ser,” he said, squinting in the light. Benton held his torch to the wall, looking for any imperfection. “I know you are talking with her, scum, don’t think you haven’t been heard.” He leaned in close again. “Oh, my green-eyed angel!” he mocked. “Now tell me the truth.”

            The guards words stung, Elias had been discovered. What else have they been listening too? I spoke of escape and treason and love and hope. They think me a childish fool.

He whispered, so as to not let Elaiyami overhear, he was sure she had her ear pressed against the wall. “She is but a voice in the dark, a friend in these rough times… that is all, sir.”

“Well, your ‘friend’ will be released in a few days, as it turns out. Her father is on his way across the sea as we speak. He has come to plead mercy before His Majesty and reunite with his beloved daughter. You will once again be left alone in the dark. See how long you last down here then, lover boy.”

The knife twisted even farther. A tear rolled down his cheek, reflective of his heartbreak. He felt his lungs still and breathing became difficult. He realized just then how much this girl meant to him.

“Blubbering child.” Benton reached towards him and pulled the blanket off of Elias, noticing the bloody bandage on his arm. He tossed his flame to the ground and grabbed the shivering lad by the wrists, squeezing tighter where the bandages were wrapped. Elias let out a cry as he was lifted off the stones. The next thing he remembered was being tossed onto the floor, pain shooting up his legs and arms that attempted to break the fall. The room spun again as he was lifted again, this time by the shirt collar. The last thing he saw was a silver greaved fist flying towards his face, and then darkness.

 

He slowly opened his eyes, a muffled scream awakening his senses. It was his name he realized, calling through the darkness.

“Elias?”

He was lying on the floor, his body cold and still; it took every effort he had to raise his head. His fingers tingled back to life as he brought his hand to his face. His cheek was numb to the touch and it felt swollen and bruised, and as he brought his hand away, there was a sticky red stain on his fingers.

“Elias!”

He looked about the room in a daze. He tried lifting himself off the floor and pain shot through his shoulder, so instead he rolled the other way; there was a drip of water landing just South of his head.

“Elias!”

He positioned his head ever so slightly to let the droplets splash onto his face, the cool, refreshing water slowly trickled over his wounds and ran through his hair, reviving him.

“Elias. Please!” Elaiyami shouted, desperate.

Every muscle, no matter how weak, strained and fought to sit up; he grabbed hold of stone and pulled himself to a sitting position with an exhaustive effort. Out of breath, he laid on his bed.

I have not fared well these days of late. I do not have much strength left.

He reached up as high as he could, feeling for the bone and cloth. The tip of his middle finger barely brushed it, which caused him to reach further, straining to lift his arm higher. He fumbled with the cloth and grabbed just enough fabric to pull the wedge from the wall. Elaiyami’s voice became clearer; she was in a panic.

“Elias. Answer me!” she yelled.

He swallowed, wetting his mouth so he could speak. “I am here, Elaiyami, do not worry.”

            Another scream caught in her throat and instead an uncontrollable sigh escaped her lips. She fell to her knees, her hand still on the wall, pressed against the stone. Her other hand clutched the cross that hung around her neck.  A few more tears and ragged gasps fell into the air before she spoke,    

“Oh, Trea be praised. I thought you had left me alone down here.”

She gave concern to herself to please Elias, knowing he did not want her worried about him.

“I have not left,” he said, “but I seem to have come back quite different.”

“Are you hurt?”

He closed his eyes again, his body felt heavy and he just wanted to sleep, his slow breathing lulling him further into darkness. A cold sensation crept up his arms and he felt nauseous and dizzy. He opened his eyes again, remembering the tray of food. A shaky hand reached across the bed to his right, feeling along the stony jagged edge. Where it once was cold and damp it now felt like nothing. His lifeless fingers bouncing over cracks and dips in the rock. It felt as if he reached forever, his arm was outstretched as far as it could go and his hand found the corner of the bed; the corner where the tray was before his world went black. He began to panic; his eyes darted open, his hands started to thrash about in dread. He needed that food; he was at his breaking point, his lifelines drawn tight, ready to snap.

“Elias, are you hurt?” a sweet voice called through the bricks.

His throat was dry and his thoughts wild. “Not this time, love.”

Elaiyami gasped and sat up quickly, her eyes wide, a thousand different emotions came to her at once, but only one caught her attention. “Love?” she whispered to herself. Could it be love? She knew she felt something for this lad, pity, concern, compassion, admiration, sadness, trust, friendship, confusion, hope, even lust, but… love?

Could it be love? She had many other suitors; many times she tried to force herself to love, but she had just met this lad, had not even laid eyes on him. People cannot fall in love this way. How would I be seen through Trea’s eyes? It was not righteous, not pious… and being in love meant pain and grief if he was not to make it.

“Don’t give up, Elias.”

“You shouldn’t have given me your share, love.”

“You needed it more than I did, and I wish you wouldn’t cal"“

“It’s gone, Elaiyami. They took it with them,” Elias said. She heard a whimper in his words. “I did appreciate it, and I love you for it, but it’s not here, and it was all I had left. I can’t last any longer.”

Now her panic began. She did not want him to leave her; he had fallen into her trap, and she had fallen into his. A droplet fell onto her skirt, staining the gray fabric black. She spoke between tears, wiping her cheeks clear, “What can I do, love? Name anything, I can get it. I’ll scream and someone will come to help, please! Tell me what you want?!”

She quit talking for a chance to let him speak. Moments passed.

“Plea"“

“I want to die, Elaiyami.”

A dreaded silence filled the cell and panic turned to despair. His comment took her breath from her. A rage filled her from the core and burned her thoughts to ashes. She began to yell.

“You want to die?!” She couldn’t wrap her head around it. “How dare you.” She bit her lip to keep herself from trembling. Her head shook back and forth causing tears to fall uncontrollably. “You may not have many, sir, but there are people who care for you, love you… to whom you matter.” Her voice grew louder, both of her hands where on the wall now, one balled into a fist, pounding as she spoke. Her head hung low and she watched the tears drip to the floor.

“You are alive. Do not tell me that you want to die, Elias! Do not. It’s discourteous and revolting.” She darted to her feet, her skirts whirling as she turned and paced to her bed. She sat and rested her head in her hands, the sob building inside of her causing her shoulders to roll. She brushed her hair back with her hands and wiped some more tears back. After a moment, when nothing was heard from the other side, she spoke again, “Very well, I do hope you change your mind.”

Elias heard every word she had said but refused to listen to her. He was sick of hoping. Last time he had marked the wall, when he injured himself, it had been fourteen days in the cell, and since then he had lost track of time. And the guard made it blatantly clear he would not leave this cell. The man had taken every bright thought and crushed it under his silver plated soleret. His body was growing colder, his eyelids heavier; only the sound of crying kept him awake. He felt guilty; he did not want to make her upset. He swallowed and licked his lips, wetting his mouth again. He supposed he should say something, apologize.

He opened his mouth to speak when he heard rustling, a shift on the other side, the heels of her shoes clicking on the stones. He could almost feel her touch coming through the wall. Her crying died down to a snivel.

“I am truly sorry, love.” was all she said.

The emotions of a maiden, he thought, confused. “For what?”

“I was out of line. Get some rest, Elias. Please.”

“I love you, Elaiyami, my sweet.”

Author's Note

hope you like it!