Despite hardly knowing the Lysian before me, I was glad to have him near, for I could have sworn I saw the glowing eyes of beasts in the distance.
Frowning, I lay down with the blanket wrapped tightly around myself. Rest was challenging to find. Every single noise made my pulse race. As soon as it would slow enough for me to potentially drift off, there was another unfamiliar sound to set it off.
My travel companion woke before sunrise and, seeing as I wasalready awake after a sleepless night, we were quick to continue our journey under cover of darkness. Neither of us spoke to one another the entire time.
I would have thought that the silence between two strangers of races at war would have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. The quiet strangely did not feel empty.
I did not know where exactly I was being taken, did not know what was to become of my people or me. Yet I felt oddly content, foolishly hoping that the worst had ended. I imagined the Bavadrin people afraid and confused but safe. Imagined myself unharmed, and someday soon returning to the Bavadrin lands. Such thoughts brought me comfort, for I believed in them as if they were fact. I had a fleeting concern that perhaps I was becoming delusional, but I shoved the notion away. If I was to survive the days to come, I needed to believe those things to be true. Edda promised that these things were clear in the future she saw.
Eventually, a city came into view. The first thing I noticed was the lack of a wall or barrier surrounding it. The second were the buildings, some of which were taller than even the trees. Nearly everything was made of stone, and most of it looked the same. I had no idea how people did not get lost navigating street after street of the similar-looking roads, buildings, doors, and windows. The only landmark was the largest structure towards the back of the city.
Lysians in the streets peered at me as we passed. I wondered what they thought of having an outsider enter their land. They probably felt as welcoming as the Bavadrins felt towards Erik.
The Lysian led me to the tall and wide structure further in the city. Was this what castles looked like? It was not flashy or architecturally appealing, just massive and stone. Once outside the thick wooden doors, we dismounted, and he led me into the building. I followed in silent awe. Yet again, hall after hall, it was all thesame. The structure was a vertical and horizontal maze, one I doubted I could ever escape without a guide. It was a prison without the need for bars or a cell.What was the purpose for such a large structure?
“The first three floors are generally common rooms and spaces. Top two floors are private quarters,” the Lysian informed though I was uncertain as to why he provided such information when I expected to be taken to a cell.
Eventually, he stopped leading me through the halls and opened a door to a comfortably sized sitting room. A couple of leather-covered chairs sat in the center of the space along with a small table, and a hearth. All of it was decorated in earthy tones. Within the sitting room, there were two more doors. The Lysian walked to the one on the right and opened it before stepping aside.
He angled his head. “This will be where you stay for the time being.”
I hesitated in shocked surprise. The room was not a prison cell, at least not a typical one. I doubted I was free to leave or walk around. But they were going to keep me in a cageless cage? The Lysians must truly have seen me as harmless, like a puppy that was easily maneuvered, void of its strong adult teeth and muscular physique.
“You will stay here,” he said when my eyes struggled absorbing it all.
It was extraordinarily luxurious. Thick fabrics hung from the windows and walls. Though the room offered more color, it was still made up of earthy lavender tones. The space was grand, nicer even than mine at home.
“Who is in the other room?” I asked, looking over at the other door in the sitting room.
“The King,” he answered and laughed when my jaw dropped and eyes grew large.
Why would the King place me so close to his space? Perhaps he wanted to learn of the Bavadrin ways just as I wanted to know of the Lysians? Whatever the reason, it was clear he didn’t think I was a threat. I doubted they would put the typical prisoner of war so close to their leader. The Bavadrins certainly would never place a Lysian next door to the Leader Superior.
“How long am I to stay here?” I turned to the Lysian, who posted himself outside of my door.
“As long as it is required.” His response offered no timeline.
“Required for what?” I glanced at him, but he was simply staring at the far wall and paying me little attention.
“For us to save our own,” he said, and in his voice, I almost thought I heard sadness.
The door to my room remained open while the Lysian remained in the small common area. I explored my new surroundings further. The furniture was made of dark and sturdy wood, the floor primarily covered by an ornate rug of creams, browns, greens, and yellows. There was a large window and two floor-to-ceiling glass doors which opened to a balcony.
My hand touched the doorknob, pushing it. I had expected it not to budge, but instead, it gave way and opened. Hesitating, I wondered if the Lysian would come running and reprimand my exploration. He didn’t. Quickly, I surveyed the area, noting that I was on the fifth floor. To jump from such a height would risk injuring myself, posing far too great a risk. It would not make for a viable escape.
“If I were you, I certainly would not try jumping from this height.” The guard’s voice sounded from within. I spun around to find him leaning in the doorway of my new but very much temporary room. He had a casual stance, but I knew his senses were poised and alert, trained on me.
My face flushed. The Lysian knew exactly what I was doing and even thinking. Though I suppose it was easy to do given thesituation. What would a prisoner do if not look for a potential escape?
How long had the Lysian been standing in the doorway, silently observing me as I familiarized myself with my prison? It troubled me, for he was so massive, yet moved soundlessly.
“Don’t think I could make it?” I asked, finding no point in hiding my thoughts.
He quirked his head to the side. “Are all Bavadrins like you?” His eyes narrowed a fraction. There was an air of mistrust in the statement, in that tone.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” I walked past him and into the room but kept the balcony doors open, welcoming the fresh, warm autumn air.
“I had always believed Bavadrins were cunning and untrustworthy. Yet you helped Erik, and you don’t appear to lie or spin stories. Honesty seems to ruminate within you. It does not match what we know of your kind.”
