The Trials of Sybil

Chapter Fifteen

Sybil

The cell door slams in my face. The sharp clang of the cold metal bars echoes through the dimly lit room. The rusted iron smell fills my nostrils as I grip the bars tightly, feeling the rough texture of the metal against my skin.

"Why?" I stare vehemently at Kieran before me. Red-hot anger bubbles and churns inside my stomach, like a boiling cauldron. I feel the tension building up inside me as I clench my teeth tightly together. I raise my fist, and with a sudden burst of fury, I slam it hard against the bars. The impact sends a sharp pain through my hand and a jolt through my arm. I can smell the metallic tang of blood on my fist and taste the salty tang of tears as they well up in my eyes. The intense moment of release leaves me gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest, and my knuckles throbbing with pain.

I had only been two turns away from freedom. Why did his royal pain in the ass have to be walking that way at that exact moment, and how did Kieran know where I was? Did I even have a chance? My fury dissipates into an icy, bitter feeling in my stomach.

"Why?" Kieran laughs coldly before reaching through the bars like a viper, gripping my chin in an iron grip and pulling me towards him. I flinch as the cold metal scraps against the skin of my cheeks. "Sybil, I am the seer to Queen Tricella. Her greatest confidante. Why would I let the most precious thing she's sought for over 100 years escape?"

My fists ball and I pull back my arm, preparing to slam into his most sensitive parts when a sudden calmness washes over me. My muscles relax of their own accord and it's all I can do to keep upright.

"But the garden." I whisper as I stare over his face, trying to gleam any semblance of goodness in him. "You ordered the poison to be left out of my food and drink."

"You were starving yourself!" He shouts in my face. His thumb lifts to trace my bottom lip, and I recoil from his touch. "You were withering away to nothing and your power was not manifesting. You're no good to us if you're dead or unhappy." He lifts his free hand to my shorn hair which has grown back just past my shoulders and grips it tightly. Through the bars, he leans in so close that our faces are just inches apart. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face, the sour stretch of ale with the hazy, powdery floral undertone of opium poppy. I lift my brows in surprise.

"I am unhappy. I am meant to be free to canter in the fields under the stars. I am meant to be a healer to my people and those in need. What I do know is that I do not belong locked up in a dungeon in a kingdom hundreds of miles away from my home." I sneer, my nose wrinkling up as I reach out and weakly grip the front of his mage robes. "From the scent on your breath, I know you are unhappy yourself or in great pain to be self medicating with opium."

"You know nothing. You are nothing but a poor half-trained peasant from Kallistar. Your only use is the power and happiness you provide my Queen. Until your usefulness wears out." He scoffs and roughly lets go of my chin. I lose balance and careen towards the dirty stone floor littered with moldy straw. My head hits the stone with a resounding crack. Lights flash in my periphery as I stare up at him, smiling at my prostrate form. He takes a shuddering breath, raking a hand through his tidy, swept back hair before straightening his robe.

"You will be the means to get what I have always yearned for. I have foreseen it." With those last parting words, he turns and walks away from my cell, his long silk robes whispering against the floor. I descend into unconsciousness with one final thought.

I'm going to die.

***

My head is pounding as I'm awakened by the sounds of a child crying and a warm tongue licking my cheek. Water droplets fall one by one from an unknown source, echoing through the silence. I squint, trying to adapt my vision to the low light. The dampness in the air is palpable, the musty odor of the surrounding area penetrating my nostrils. I feel a chill running down my spine, perhaps due to the coldness of the atmosphere or the eerie stillness of the surroundings.