The Crimson Bow: And the Eagle Insignia

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

" ... It's very real, fool ... "

" Earth "

Year 700. April 4rd. Morning [07:30]

Geuss. Shi'av Prison.

So says the Timekeeper

*

The blaring of the wake-up gong sends a muscular boy jolting up into a sitting position with his reddish brown hair in a ruffled mess. Once he manages to process what the noise is, he groans and wipes his face with his hand. It's been only a few days since he was thrown into the prison, and he still isn't used to being woken up by an obnoxiously loud gong and the banging of guards and prisoners. He lays back down on the pillow-less, stone-like 'bed' and pulls his arm over his face. The boy sighs in exhaustion, he feels like he didn't get a wink of sleep last night. That dream can only be to blame, what a waste of sleep. The boy grumbles something inaudible under his breath, a few curses thrown into the mix, and rolls onto his side facing the wall. The stone wall is so different from the wooden walls of the knight's cabins where he used to live. Back when he had pride and dignity, and before he'd been stripped of his sword and title. All for being framed. To someone who looks hard enough, it's obvious that he's innocent. But he wasn't born in Shi'av, and is therefore forever branded as an outsider, so what reason would they have to give an outsider a fair trial? Just to let out his frustration, the boy is tempted to punch into the wall in front of him, and perhaps he could even leave an indent. That would satisfy him.

"'Ey sleeping beauty, you 'eard the gong!" a voice calls to him from the other side of the cell. He turns over in bed reluctantly to face his cell-mate. He is a ragged twig of a boy who grew up on the streets and took to being a thief. His cell-mate is pale in comparison to his well-muscled body from years of training as a knight, and he has his numerous scars to wear like battle armor around the his smart-mouthed cell-mate who is just a few words away from a punch in the face.

The boy pulls himself up in bed and scowls at his cell-mate, "You don't need to remind me." The shackles on his arms feel tight around his skin, and the reminder of his imprisonment is enough to put him in a bad mood. He doesn't have the patience for his cell-mate's loud mouth this morning.

His cell-mate mock-cowers and lets out a disgustingly crackly laugh, "Don't get testy Bayard! I'm just savin' ya' from the drillin' you would 'ave gotten from the guards!"

Bayard snorts and fiddles more with his shackles, having no intention of responding to his comment. He manages to push up on his shackles, and move them enough to he can see the irritated, red skin underneath. The boy grits his teeth and runs a hand over the sore skin, recoiling at the shooting pain.

"Hehe, you won't get those things off that easily," Bayard's cell-mate snickers and draws closer to Bayard, but he halts abruptly and lets his jaw drop. "Y-yer eyes... Weren't they both green?" he stutters, taking a frightened step back.

"What're you spouting, you churl?" Bayard growls and shifts off his bed to stand up. He walks over to a small bucket of water in the corner of their shared cell to take a look at his reflection. He peers into the water. Normally, he cannot see the color of his eyes, because when he was a knight, a clergy woman from the church who checked his physical condition once a year determined that he was colorblind, but only to the colors red and green. When the water stills enough for Bayard to get a good look at himself, he notices that one eye's color is visible to him, while the other is not. It's just as his cell-mate said, one of Bayard's eyes have turned an earthy brown.