Beginning of the End

Down in the Dungeons

                I place the letter on my bed where I am sure she will see it, and with a heavy heart, I walk out of the room and slam the door behind me. Finally, I can leave and focus on what really matters; the rebellion. Aramina stops to wait for me to catch up, so I run to meet her, and just as I reach and form a thought on the tip of my tongue, she speaks first.

                “What happened back there Zianna, are you okay? I can understand if you feel bad and do not want to continue, you know I can make it on my own.” Aramina asks me, seeing the tears I feel forming in the corners of my eyes.

                “No, it is not that. I am young and know nothing of the world without my mother and father telling me about it. They were cruel sometimes, but at the end of the day, they are my parents and they took care of me. Anyways…” my sentence gets cut off by my tears, now uncontrollably down my face. “Do not worry about me, just keep moving so I can stay hidden from the guards down there.”

                “What are you talking about? We are only staying for the day and then returning for the execution ceremony. I guess if you so desire, I could bring you down here more often or take you for other parts of my duty.”

                “No, I would not like to be involved too much in your duties. I have a plan instead.”

                “What is that plan?” she asks as we walk in silence. “You are not obliged to tell me, but I do have a feeling that you will need my help.”

                “I thought that we could stop the execution and run away; just the three of us. That is why I wrote that note to my mother, so she would understand and leave us alone. I have had a suspicion that our prisoner is somebody more dangerous than she appears to be, so we have to be careful and cover our tracks beyond recognition.” I suggest, hoping my plan will work.

                Aramina does not respond. She leads on until we reach a plain wooden door with a single cast iron handle locked in place. I always knew we built a dungeon down here, but I never would have guessed that I would be exploring its very cells and passageways so early in my innocent life, which is soon to take a turn in the wrong direction if our plan succeeds. The air feels damp and muggy, making it hard for all these prisoners to survive down here, that is if they survive the prison and make it to the death by execution phase.

                She opens the handle by raising a lever, and my mouth hangs open. Rows upon rows of metal-barred cells occupied by both men and women wailing, even moaning, while some just sit, sulking in the corners of their cells, awaiting their almost certain death. Dim lanterns hang on the walls, casting eerie shadows up in the damp, hard stone walls, our shoes filling periods of unwanted silence. As we walk by each cell, the inhabitants all stare at me as we walk by, thinking nothing of Aramina’s expected presence. I try to avoid the cold glares, but their poor, beaten faces make me want to cry, keeping my gaze fixed on them, thinking about how hard it will be to only free one prisoner from one cold prison cell. I am too busy thinking that I almost miss the cell at which Aramina stops to open the stone door, the young girl looks away as we enter, obviously not used to two people taking the time to speak with her.

                “Have you come to take me away already? I have only been here a mere two days.” The prisoner says cautiously.

                “No, no, we have only come to ask you a few things; we mean no harm at all.” I say, trying to sound comforting, but that does not seem like something I am much good at. “My father and mother will come to take you away tonight for an execution ceremony, but do not worry, I have a plan to stop the ceremony once they come.”

                “So you must be the young princess, Zianna. I must ask, what brings the heir to the throne down here to see a lowly prisoner like me?”

                I nod, turning to Aramina for questions to ask, even though I wish we could just take her and run to some other land, where the people are not tearing the lives of their own children apart because of some surprise assault from the Badlands.

                “So,” says Aramina to the girl. “If we are to set you free later, I should at least be allowed to know your name.”

                “I will not tell you my real name until the time is right; which you will know, and only then will I tell you.”

                “Well then, since I am not able to know your name, I shall ask you some more difficult questions instead. Let us begin with you telling me how you came to survive my very well-thought out attack when I surveyed the area and found nothing but dead bodies?” Aramina asks.

                “I survived because I put myself in a position to survive. I evaded your hideous beasts and fellow soldiers, hiding while other civilians fought to the death.” The prisoner says. “I even outwitted you, Aramina, and I thought you had me with that bolt of fire!”

                This girl is very arrogant, not stopping to think about who the real authorities are and the power they hold over her, think to myself. Though I have never been down this far underground before to see any of these prisoners, something about her seems familiar to me, making me wonder where I have seen somebody like her before here in Torah. Even…

                “What makes you think you could run wild on our land, marauding our farms, destroying our buildings and worse; killing our innocent people?” the prisoner screams at both Aramina and I, cutting off my train of thought.

                Looking her in the eyes, I finally see how she hid from our soldiers. She has a twinkle of hope and defiance in her bright blue eyes, her thin but muscular body trying to resist us and the claims my parents think they have to destroy the rest of the world. Her voice, though childish, is used with a strong sense of authority, almost like she believes she can stop Torah’s separation plans, as I wish I could do myself.

                “You know who I am prisoner! You have no right at all to speak with such authority to the person who has the choice to let you go.” Aramina counters with such force that the prisoner shrinks back away from the metal bars stopping her from escaping. “Now, I would like to know how you came to beat me, because I only fought a few rebels face-to-face, so do not lie to me; I remember who met their end.”

                “You placed your shot wrong and you dared to leave me for dead. My power played no part in anything.” The girl snaps back.

                Aramina walks away, facing me, her eyes burn a more fiery shade of red, clearly angry at how he defiant prisoner treated her. Her face, contorted in anger shows just how unhappy with my plan she is, like she would not be able to bear spending another minute with this girl, however innocent she may seem to me. I look at her, a feeling brewing in the pit of my stomach and I realize that I must know who this prisoner is, or who Aramina thinks she is that she could treat both of us the way she just did.