A Dark Night

Chapter 2- Enter Kiara

Chapter 2- Enter Kiara

One whole day had passed since Ari had been rescued by Ragon. She had lived mostly in silence and darkness since that time as her rescuer, now captor, had not spoken to her since. Religiously, meals had been brought to her three times a day. Each time the food appeared there was no sign of their arrival, or Ragon, and she was only made aware of them by the delicious smell that they would create, wafting over to her from the shadows of her prison. She had tried calling out to him, even screaming, but it had made no difference; he did not answer her. She had no idea where she was, or if she was even still in Brisbane. Repeatedly she had tried breaking out of the room, but it was impregnable. The thick stone shielded her from notice and provided a fortress from the outside. It was late on her second night of imprisonment when Ragon finally graced her with his presence again.

Ari heard the door creak open and raced over to it, desperate for human or any kind of contact.

“Ragon!” She exclaimed when she saw his face.

He smiled at her lightly and moved over to the floor to sit down as he had done before. Once again he carried a candle which lit his face majestically, the orange glow highlighting his marble features, and Ari was reminded of just how beautiful he was.

“Ari,” he whispered. “I am sorry. I have not cared for you as I had promised. I was arranging some things.”

“I can’t stay here. I can’t live like this,” she pleaded before he held out his hand to silence her.

“I know. It has taken me longer to acquire suitable accommodations for you, hence my apologies,” he said sadly.

“But,” Ari said.

“But I have found you somewhere you can stay and be safe. We leave my family home tonight,” he said standing up and moving to the door.

Ari followed obediently, excited to be leaving the stone prison she had spent countless hours in. She wanted nothing more than to argue with Ragon about her imprisonment, but she was too afraid that this might anger him. Though he had saved her from being raped, he had also killed her attackers. She had no idea what he would do to her if she attempted to flee. Suddenly a loud slamming noise pulled Ari from these thoughts and she watched as Ragon locked the door to the room she had been kept in, slowly sliding a large wooden sleeper into a cradle across the wall.

The next room that Ari walked into was a little lighter than the room she had been kept in. Large candles adorned a central table and shone in concert with the one that Ragon continued to cradle in his outstretched hand.

“This is your family home?” Ari asked, straining her eyes.

She was standing in what appeared to be a large circular room. The walls were made of the same stone as the room she had stayed in, but unlike that room in this one there were deep grooves in the face of the walls, where small grottoes held various shaped vessels. Sensing an odd foreboding feeling, Ari moved backwards hitting something hard and cold.

As her eyes focused on one of the grottoes, she saw a shiny metallic plaque beneath the urn and read out the inscription in a whisper, “Lillian Patrick 1756 to 1895.”

She was in a tomb.

“My mother,” Ragon whispered in reply.

Ari jumped, surprised to find that what she had been leaning against was in fact Ragon’s cold body and she quickly back away from him.

She could make out from the strained sadness on his face that her actions had hurt him and she said, “You startled me,” hoping to spare his feelings.