Tale of The Broken Sword

Chapter Forty Two : In the Heart of Darkness

28th February, AD 1657

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Everent felt something smacking against his shoulder. And he bolts up, awake. Everent feels his face for a blindfold but nothing was there. He almost thought that his capture was a dream, a nightmare. For him, it felt too real for it to be a mere dream. His eyes began to adjust itself to the darkness of the prison, which was only lit up by a handful of oil lamps. Moments after his eyes were accustomed to the surroundings, Everent glanced at his cell.

A beam of meagre light streams in from the outside through a reinforced window. It’s not enough for him to see through to know what is it like outside. He doesn’t know what prison it is and where is it. To make things worse, he doesn’t even know what city is he in.

Everent felt a prick on his neck. Silent groaning in pain and rubbing it away, he turned around to see who it was.

“Hey,” A prisoner next to his cell said. “I’ve been throwing rocks at you for ten minutes already. Took you long enough to wake up.”

Everent reach around his back. The bullet was gone. His wounds are patched up and he still felt a light sting in and around his body. A thick bandage straps around his body and his arm. They stripped him off his bloodied clothing and replaced it with some kind of prisoner jacket. They had fixed him up before throwing him into this cell. Everent wondered what else they had done to him too.

“Where am I?” Everent rubbed his eyes, hoping that the darkness would subside and things around him would become clearer. Nothing happened so far.

“You don’t know?” The prisoner chuckled, trying to contain his laughter to avoid the officer from shutting him up. “Look outside your window. Look closely.”

Everent quickly got up and peered through the reinforced window. Amidst the weak light beaming through his puffy face, Everent managed to get a blurry view of the outside. He squinted his eyes and focused on the panoramic view of the city. In the very centre of the city lies its administrative district, judging from the complexity of its designs and structures.

As far as Everent knew, Migrath Alsea or any other Aurelian city does not require such enormous administrative buildings to be constructed. That would only mean that this city is definitely an unfriendly one.

“Don’t tell me that I’m in––” Everent gasped.

“The Capital City of the Ansteig Empire.” The prisoner declared with pride, confirming Everent’s utmost fears. “The city of Veillrichtstadt.”

Everent sighed, leaning his back against the wall. Knowing that he is in the heart of his enemy’s homeland, Everent felt helpless as his heart fell. Chances of getting out alive from this nation were slim enough to make every hardened soldier to shiver and fall to their knee. The Empire was not known to release their prisoners even under agreeable conditions set by both parties.

“How long have you been in here?” Everent turned to the prisoner.

“Since the War had begun,” The man smiled sadly. “I was placed under death row, but they had reduced my sentence to life in prison.”

Everent kept silent after hearing that. The man, whom noticed his change, went up against the iron bar and placed his head between the gaps. “How about you?” He said. "You don't seem to be from here."

“I’m sorry, what?” Everent responded to him, perplexed.

“What’s your story in getting here?” The man smiled warmly.

“Crashing an airship in the middle of a residential area.” Everent replied, keeping his head down between his knees. “They brought me down during the chase.”