The Deathly Nothing

Chapter 10

My cheek pressed firmly to the stone, it's smooth surface kissing me so delicatly. I still felt slightly numb, as if I'd been emptied of my parts and some were still yet to be put back. Confusing, that's what this all was. The more I thought about it the more lost I became within my own mind. Did this place control me already? Did it warp my mind, dragging it's steel claws through it. It sure felt like that.

A draft poured in from a window up high, a window barracaded with bars. That made it feel somewhat like home, but this was a cell and I was it's prisoner. My new home for who knew how long. Until I die? Between each blink of my eyes I could see a door a few metres away, stone like everything else in here. The walls were stone, the floor and the ledge of rock I lay upon. It could not be described as a bed, I suppose this place is too cruel to offer such comforts.

My body throbbed, I layed still for a moment locked away in the shadows. Swallowed by the stone around me. The breeze crawled up my back but I did not shiver, or pull my dirty cloak closer to me. I felt nothing, in fact this cold almost seemed soothing in some strange way. No sound echoed from behind the door, no voices of guards or whispers. So what was I doing here like this? I hadn't given up already, I couldn't be that pathetic. No, not one prisoner accepted their fate straight away. I had to try to find a way out. To try at the least.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes feeling the dirt that had long sinked it's way into my skin. I groaned as I grasped onto the bars of the window, nothing but darkness stretching into the distance. Hopping from the stone 'bed' I ran to the door, tugged the handle, well it was locked of course. Then to the walls feeling my way around them, all four one side to another. Nothing. Back to the window, gripping the bars again where I pulled and pulled until my hands burned red. No way out. I slumped along the wall to sit upon the stone. I had to get out-

"Good morning mate."

A young man who looked to be a similar age to Zarek, early twenties, leant against the wall near the door. Dark-skinned with shaved black hair and a smirk plastered across his face. His shoulders were slumped a little, he seemed too relaxed. I guess he looked older, wiser than he could be for someome his age. Maybe it was the stuble on his face, along with the tattoos that ran down his left cheek. A humourous expression, one that seemed gentle but sure of oneself. "You look dreadful, really. Breakfast should help, so what can I get you?" he asked calmly, sounding almost excited. Like a small child indulging their parents on their first day of school. He swept over to me, tall leather boots thudding as he sauntered forwards closer.

"What?" I croaked as I stared up at him in surprise. I looked at him with curiosity, maybe I should have feared him but he felt like a longlost friend. Even if he was my enemy something about him was loveable, you wanted to just smile and laugh in his presence. Hazel eyes bore into me- he was curious about me too.

"That's understandable," he grinned as I frowned, "I guess you were expecting some more torture, maybe some questioning not an inquiry into how you like your eggs. On that note, how do you like them actually?"

My lips parted as I sat up right against the wall with a face painted in confusion at the man now sat in front of me. He set down many small bags he seemed to have hidden beneath his black cloak, many of them rattling with what sounded like money. He tossed me one of the larger bags,

"Some change of clothes," he offered with a nod. I reached into the bag to find some basic grey clothing. Then he pulled a bow from his shoulder, it's silver metal glimmering. "Awfully heavy all this but a man must keep safe what he treasures most," he extolled with a grin as he placed the bow over his lap.

"Do you like archery?" I asked desperatley, I had to say something as saying nothing at all felt more dangerous than saying the wrong thing. He tilted his head as he ran a finger along the length of the bow.

"Oh yes, it's quite entertaining yielding a weapon such as the bow and arrow. It gives me a feeling that can't be described, you get me?"

"Yes, I guess that makes sense." I watched him, taking in every detail. Did he have magical abilities too?

"What's your name?" he inquired with a frown as he pushed the weapon to one side bringing his hands to rest in front of him. I rubbed my face once more with a slight sigh before answering,

"Fabien."

"Well my pleasure Fabien, it'll be nice to have some male company in this woman's world," he smiled cocking his head to one side.

"You mean the Queen?"

He nodded slowly, "And her second in command Rudylin, she's always on my back you see," he looked downwards for a moment, he seemed to smile to himself. Smiling about Rudylin. How could she make anyone smile unless it was with fear. "Do this, do that, no not that. Orders she loves to give them you see."

"Do you know the Queen well?"

"Well enough that we could be binded by blood, mate."

"Then why is she- why is she so-"

"Evil? Cruel?" he finished for me. Now he looked me directly in the eyes this time, a stare that was unfaltering. Not so humourous now but more thoughtful. The man seemed to think before answering like working out a difficult math problem. I guess this question was somewhat difficult. "Not everyone is so sinister even if they pretend to be but sometimes it's what they have to do-"

"Including torture? That was something your majesty 'had' to do?" I questioned quitely. This man didn't deserve my spite, he wasn't the one I dispised. I didn't feel like he was someone to hate anyway. Nothing was said in response as he looked away, itching his neck. "Just tell her she did a very good job for me."

"It was wrong," he said softly, "she knows that. It's just all to easy for her to loose control you have to understand that."

"There is nothing I can understand about this world."

"Well, I guess that's something you and I have in common," he answered quietly with a small smile. I nodded slowly, drawing my legs into my chest and crossing my arms. The man began to pack away his things before reaching out his hand to me. I looked at his black-padded glove, contemplating my next move. We shook hands, "Name's Craith." Smiling slightly I nodded to him. He stood up and began to move towards the door. "I'll-uh try spice the place up a bit, it's the least I can do for you Fabien," he murmured, flashing me a wink. Twisting the door handle it screeched open, Craith was half-way behind it before he stopped to look from behind the door, "I nearly forgot! How do you like your eggs again?"

"I'm not that hungry."

"Fried, everyone loves a fried egg," he called before he closed the door quitely and as I sat there I could have sworn the room felt a little warmer.