The Call of Nys #5 (Waverly Stump and The 7 Realms)

29 - J U D S O N

Phyllis did not come at dawn.

In fact, for a good number of days after Gyssevear brought him food, Judson saw no other person.

He would spend long hours perched near the window, hoping to spot Phyllis, but she never showed up. The stranger thing was, a sudden quiet came over the Guard House that made him feel more abandoned than curious.

However, he doubted the prison yard was wholly deserted because oftentimes he could feel like he was being watched from a distance. By someone who made no effort to hide the fact. His Elven guards did not show themselves either - the only sign of their presence being a tray of food and water they left under his cell gate before daybreak.

If not that the cell was secured, he would have stepped out to investigate for himself. Though the lock was far from impossible to shatter with a little force, he thought it better to refrain from breaking out.

Something warned him not to.

Whether it was part of the natural ecosystem or the faint sense of foreboding that draped his own mind, winter seemed to grow fiercer. On certain mornings, or so he figured, the atmosphere would be shrouded in such stark white that everything shone.

Elven winters looked and even felt different. There seemed to be magic of some precious kind scattered about in the air - not the remnants of Juniper's broken spell.

Something far different - old, yet lethal.

It felt to Judson's senses as an irresistible vacuum that could suck in whatever it deemed unfriendly. A trap for outsiders. But he did not, in any way, feel like an outsider. Ever since his arrival, he had felt much welcome and that he actually belonged, which was why he prayed that, soon, an explanation for his sudden desertion would be provided.

He sat in his usual spot, listening subconsciously to the wind as it swooshed in and out the window, spraying him with cold air every now and then.

In his hand was a little sprout. The dungeon floor was carpeted with its like. His jailers would be stunned if they discovered the real value of every single plant shooting from the walls. It was fascinating though that because the Guard House was located within the Woodlands it experienced greenery even in the unlikeliest of areas.

Judson twirled the soft plant between his fingers. A bean. The soft green skin of its stem and its twin leaves tinier than his own pinky finger reminded him of newborns, and his mind immediately flashed back to Ayariel. The sudden memory filled him with hot panic and he dropped the stem on impulse, clutching hard at his forehead.

"I see you're troubled."

His gaze shot up immediately.

There, in front of his cell door, stood a woman. A She-Elf.

His eyes shone when she gently pushed the door open - without prying the lock - and stepped forward only two steps. She was dressed in royal clothes that was nothing of the heavy, velvety kind other female royals would fawn over. Her attires were breezy and elegant, and native. Hair as stark white as the falling snow outside overflowed from her head, surrounding her like a cape, complimented by a crown of golden laurel.

Judson needed no introduction to know she was the Queen of Elves.

He rose and lowered in a bow.

"Arise." Her voice was friendly, and the sound of it banished what little trembles had erupted inside Judson without his knowledge.

He looked at her face, on which was a kind and curious expression. She seemed to be assessing him with smiles and frowns that came at infrequent times. It was almost as if she read a confusing book.