The Rebel's Ruler

Chapter 3

Pandora hid in the corridor for so long that she began to wonder if the guards and their prisoner were ever going to emerge from the General's office. She slunk down to the other side of the hallway, expecting the guards to eventually return the way they had come and not wanting to be a sitting duck in front of them when they did. She crouched low on the damp floor behind a marble statue that was located a sizable distance away from the General's door and tried to make herself as quiet and inconspicuous as possible.

She had only just begun to grow impatient when she heard the click of a doorknob unlocking. The door slowly swung open, and one of the guards stepped out. He glanced around, making sure that the coast was clear before nodding to his colleague, who was still inside the room. He marched out, struggling to pull the prisoner along by their arm. Their limp was worse now, and they could barely hold their own weight. They struggled to remain upright as the guards hoisted their arms up onto their shoulders and drug them back down the corridor.

Pandora sneaked along the wall, making her footsteps soft and purposeful to avoid creating any sound that would give her away. She continued to follow the party as they made their way back down the corridor and continued towards the area of the dungeons where most of the castle's prisoners were kept.

They passed empty several cells before reaching a row that housed a cacophony of human sounds and smells. Pandora tried not to flinch as she heard their desperate cries for release through mercy or death. Her eyes betrayed her and drifted towards the horror she had hoped to avoid. She glanced inside one of the cells, and her stomach lurched to her throat. There was one lonely body, shriveled and frail, rocking themselves back and forth in a puddle of their own remains. If they hadn't been moving, Pandora would have thought them dead. She turned away, disgusted at what she had seen. She'd never been this far into the dungeons, and now she knew why. There were human beings living in these absolutely horrific conditions, and Pandora couldn't stand to see any more. She kept her head down, hoping none of the prisoners would be able to recognize her. They would surely be outraged that she allowed them to live like that, and although she felt awful she knew that there was nothing she could do.

When the guards finally stopped, they were outside of the farthest cell from the entrance. It was a filthy cage that received no light and stank of human decay. One of the guards pulled a ring of keys off of his belt loop and selected one. It was long and metal with a jagged decoration sculpted on the end. He inserted it into the lock that was chained around the cell door, and it made a faint clicking sound as it twisted into place. The guard removed the lock and heaved open the bars. The door made an awful screeching sound as it scraped against the floor and Pandora had to suppress a wince.

The guards lifted the prisoner, who had fallen to the floor, and shoved them inside. Then they slammed the door shut, locking it in place. The prisoner lay on the ground, still managing to conceal their face despite the rough handling they had experienced. They didn't make a sound, but they flinched away in pain after bringing one hand to their face. Pandora flattened herself against the wall at the end of the corridor as the guards turned and marched away, their duties finished. When she could no longer hear their footsteps in the distance, Pandora crept in front of the cell and knelt in front of the bars. She sat there for a moment, unsure how to proceed. The criminal appeared not to notice her, so she softly cleared her throat.

"Hello." Pandora's voice came out hesitant and soft.

The prisoner did not say a word, but they lifted their head and slowly began to slide back their hood. Pandora caught a quick glimpse of the silvery magic that wound itself around their hands and she began to go numb. She gripped one hand around a bar, so tight that her knuckles turned white. Realization flooded her like a tidal wave, and it took all of her will power not to cry out in anguish. She looked up at the prisoner's face to confirm her suspicions, and she nearly choked on her own sobs. There she was, laying on the dirt floor, a purple bruise forming around her swollen eye and blood running down her cheek.