|
2/2 - In The
Darkness
I came to and at first, I didn’t panic.
Then, I didn’t panic because I simply
didn’t understand.
It was entirely dark, as dark as I have
only once before known and although there was something
disturbingly similar about this darkness, it was also
different.
My arms hurt. I tried to adjust them and
heard a sound in return, a pain in my wrists.
For a time I thought I was just dreaming.
Slowly, it became apparent that I was not
and still, I was too confused to panic.
When it hit me that around me lay the
mental nothing of Pertineri dungeons it was that I panicked.
I really panicked.
I thrashed and I screamed and thought I
was losing my mind.
That went on for a long time and when I
had exhausted myself I must have either fallen asleep or
fainted and I when I awoke and nothing had changed apart from
the pain being much, much worse than before I panicked again.
It was indescribable.
It was an eternity before any part of me
started to think logically and even tried to work out what had
happened.
An eternity of absolute horror, of
feelings unlike I have ever experienced before.
It was a long time before it got through
to me who had done this.
And even then, I would not, could not
believe it.
Fact.
I was chained to a wall in a dungeon, far
underground.
I was inside a stone circle that disabled
my magic.
The last thing I remembered was being
happy, being with Lucian who wasn’t as happy as I was and
all tense and tight as he had been all evening. There was
no-one else. And I remember him hitting me. I remember seeing
it, his fist coming towards me and me not being able to
understand that, never mind being able to put up a defence.
Fact.
Lucian knocked me out.
He did this.
Lucian chained me up here in the dark and
left me.
And I cannot believe it could possibly be
true.
I cry and call out for help, I sniffle
and beg into the darkness for someone, something. I call to
the creator, the sisters, the white Serein, anyone. I call for
Chay, for Conna, for Lucian, over and over again.
I listen into the darkness and stare at
it until there are stars before my eyes and I’m thinking
I’m seeing shapes, patterns, faces.
And in my mind I’m trying to find every
alternative there can only be to what I cannot think could
possibly be true.
At last, at long last I hear someone. I
see a light, I recognise the light. It is the blue light
Lucian uses by choice when it is very dark around. I try and
call but my voice is croaking, exhausted. There are locks
being undone and a grating and it is him and I have never been
so glad to see anyone in my life.
“Oh Lucian, thank the creator, oh
Lucian, …” I whisper and tears are streaming from my face.
He is carrying a bundle in one hand and a candle in the other,
lights it magically before ducking in through the narrow low
door way.
He places it carefully in a holder on the
wall, comes across to me and crouches down.
I am sobbing incoherently. “Thank the
creator you have come …” I try and say, over and over. I
try to reach him, link him and can’t and I strain against
the chains.
“Shh,” he says and strokes my hair,
my face. “It’s alright. Everything is fine now. You are
safe.”
I wait for him to undo the shackles, to
break them from the wall but he does nothing, just strokes me
like you would an overwrought horse to calm it down and when
my sobbing lessens, he sits down on the blanket on which I
have been kicking and thrashing and which is now beyond the
reach of my feet. I am still wearing the gold coloured shoes
and the dress. I could feel it being that but wasn’t sure in
the dark.
He just sits and looks at me.
I struggle to speak and ask why he is not
setting me free, and I am praying that I am wrong, that he
didn’t do this to me, that his madness wasn’t such that he
would do this to me, this of all things, of all things.
Then he starts talking, tells me that he
will take good care of me and keep me safe from myself, after
all, I stopped him from hurting himself at the Northern Tower,
now he would do the same for me.
When I stop screaming he goes on in the
same gentle tone and tells me that he is sorry for the
inconvenience and that this is only a temporary solution until
more fitting quarters have been finalised for me. I can’t
stop screaming and thrashing against the chains, can’t stop
screaming at him. I can’t stop. I am not getting through to
him, I don’t know what his madness is, I don’t know how to
communicate my fear and terror and total horror at this, that
I don’t understand, why, why are you doing this? What have I
done? What are you doing?
But all I can do is scream and he sits,
watching me sadly, trying to talk about the sense of the
arrangement and all I can do is scream.
When he leaves me I scream even more
until I cannot even make a single sound and later, I become
aware that the candle will burn out and I will be in the dark
again and ….
|