Theurgy: The Journey's Dawn (Book One)

Chapter 31 Imprisoned

The world had gone dark for Opal. She remembers nothing from before, not a flickering flame, of why she was in a prison cell. She remembers coming face to face with death itself, being grasped by a cold hand that sucked the life out of her like a leak in a bucket. His presence had shaken her. And then, that was it. She doesn't know what happened after that point if anything did. When she opened her eyes, she was sure she was indeed dead, and the bleak afterlife had taken her. Death had seemed such a comforting thing then, she would not relish in her death as much as she initially thought.

But then, shock. A shock back into reality, as deep pain, responding to her consciousness, decided upon itself that she needs to be reminded. Pain suddenly flourished, her stomach becoming a bed of cold heat and twisting skin. She felt simultaneously lit on fire and stabbed. It was unbearable pain, and she walked in place on the cold stone ground. Her skin grew red with the intensity as she could no longer feel, see or hear much of anything. She wasn't sure she was crying or screaming, or perhaps both. The infliction fizzled like a spring, and slowly lowered it's harshness upon her like a cruel beast. It took time, but could again take in breathe before she could collapse again. She threw herself against the nearest wall, huddled, and began to cry. Not a wail, but a weeping that punctuated how empty her situation really was. She was in fact, all alone. Hope had betrayed her, made her think that he cared. Then ripped the world from beneath her feet to reveal hell was always beneath her. Her brother is dead. Her mother as well. She dared not think that the world would be any kinder than it needed to be. It was cruel to the core.

She set her hands against the ground, exhausted from how much she let out. The stone bricks were cold, a little wet from tears from moments ago. She used this steadiness to find some sort of bearings for herself. This was a cell, a small one with no beds, no windows, and no light. She felt her way around the room hands first, feeling out her surroundings hesitantly. She fears what waited for her in the darkness. But if it really wanted to kill her, she'd be dead by now. Her fingers grazed over something bumpy and coarse. She reached to pick it up, but a sickening snap made her drop the object. She knew what it was as soon as she held it with both hands. It was a skull. One that was connected to a skeleton in the corner of the room. Again the room was dark, not even bars to look through for some sort of light. All four walls were stone, occasionally something would be carved into them she could trace with a finger, but it seemed less through and through. Only the floor was made from bricks. Not even a door. How did she get in here then? Most surely this is the work of magic of some sort. This was a far upgrade from a simple wooden chest. There was no drama she could pry through, and no knight to set her free. She was like a Firefly that had been caught in a jar like she used to do when she was younger. Now she feels exactly like those bugs must have realized. She wasn't trying to figure a way out. She set her back against the wall, knees huddled to her chest as far away from the skeleton and skull as possible.

She could hear nothing besides her beating heart and depthless breathing. No matter how long, an hour, two, or three, she never seemed to run out of air, despite how sealed tight the room was. It was strange to be deprived of her senses in such a manner. Her others seemed simultaneously dull and elevated. The dress she wore was becoming threadbare, but it was relatively warm. She discovered a bucket, apparently her only toilet. She could not comment on her conditions, things could still be worse. She does not know how, but they can be.

By the fifth hour, she could barely hold energy. Using avra would be impossible in her condition. She felt as faint as a deer in winter. Slowly she drifted to sleep, which was not an issue. She felt exhausted as soon as she awoke. Her eyes fluttered to a close, not fighting at all the tiredness. But seemingly as soon as she shut them, they were suddenly opened again as she heard the grinding of metal on stone. When her vision readjusted to bright light, she was looking at an actual door, metal and rusting at its hinges. She knew that there was nothing in that wall, but then again, magic would be the answer. A man carrying a torch behind him tossed in a sac into the room towards her. He did not seem the same as the scry looking, pale-faced men and women who captured her. She realized how hungry she was when she smelled faint grain. Almost desperately she grasped for the satchel, untying it to find a canteen of crackers and water.