Something Lost (Original Draft)

Chapter 17: Centre Yew Lower Dungeon Day 1

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Day 1: Centre Yew Lower Dungeon

This place was truly miserable, it was unbearably hot and humid, never had I experienced a hellacious environment like this. Luckily, the guards didn't confiscate the canteens we carried in with us... something told me we would need them later.

I found my emotions would flare up randomly, most of my outbursts were triggered by the frustration of not knowing what was going to happen to us... it was still unclear what occurred and why we were being held captive, blamed for the murder of Centre Yew's King.

Within the first few hours of our luxurious stay, I managed to maneuver my cuffed hands around my legs freeing them from behind my back. I was quite proud of my accomplishment, as small as it was. With my new-found freedom, I found it easier to explore our surroundings.

Several torches lit our cell, I walked around in their faint glow searching for anyway of escape. As I dug at the walls and flooring, James would laugh and advise me save my energy. He also reminded me that if I did manage to find a way out, I would still be trapped by the main door that sealed the entrance to the temple. He was right, and besides that I would have had to leave him behind... and I couldn't do that as tempting as it was at times.

After several unsuccessful attempts at digging around the chamber door, I finally gave in to James' ranting and plopped down on the warm floor.

"I've been told that it is improper to ask a lady this, but hell, since we're here and we have all the time in the world." He chuckled to himself and when he noticed my lack of response he rattled his chains until I could no longer ignore him.

"What are you talking about?" I asked annoyed that he was beating around the bush, I would rather have him spit out what he was about to ask then act like a bumbling fool.

He cleared his dry throat. "Your age."

It took a moment for me to realize that he did, in fact utter that ridiculous question. I examined him wondering if he was serious, his curious stare back told me he was.

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Is this how we're going to pass the time before they string us from the gallows, by answering stupid questions and playing silly games?" I replied while lifting my cuffed hands to my shoulder, I wiped away a trail of sweat that was tickling my neck.

"I just thought," his voice went hoarse and he cleared it with a cough. "I thought it would be better to talk than sit and stew, there's no use in that... besides you look like you need to talk."

The last thing I wanted to do was talk, but I could tell it was really he who needed to.

"How old are you?" I retorted sarcastically.

"Twenty-two." He smiled back victoriously. "Your turn." Twenty-two, he acted younger, perhaps it was the way he carried himself. He seemed too foolish to be older, but so was I for thinking a few extra years would make someone act like a grown up.

"The end of next month I would have turned nineteen," I answered begrudgingly while digging at the cracked clay floor, I really hated answering him but it seemed only fair since he had answered my question.

"Don't worry, you'll live to see that day yet."

I continued to pick at the flooring, pulling up small pieces of hardened clay. I stacked them into a small pyramid, until they could hold no more pieces.