Unspoken

Chapter Four

The cold—no, freezing to the touch stone walls that shut me in... The chill that hung stagnant in the air, as if to remind me I would never leave this place. Gazing into the somber canvas beyond my vision made my mind feel dull, but this was a prison, after all, so what could be expected? Yes, a prison, and I was quite familiar with this routine. My boredom nagging at me, I lifted my head to look in a different direction—since my back ached from sitting in this position. A violent shiver spasmed throughout my body at the first sign of movement, though, and I immediately rubbed my arms to fight off the terrible feeling. But this effort was wholly pointless, I knew the cold would never recede.
I hate this...
The tiny little bumps along my skin from the chill were more than just annoying. Even after being trapped in this abhorrent place for so long, it still felt strange to feel cold—to be separated from sunlight. But I couldn't be surprised, not when I had been one with the sun since childhood. I had always felt as if everything—from the very depths of my soul to my fingertips—felt the need to be warm. I supposed it was only natural for things to be that way, though...
Any Aridoran would feel the same in my situation, right?
It had been years since I had seen home... Years since I'd lazed in the afternoon sun for so long my skin would burn. Aridor'd had a wealth of things to offer, but the best parts... What my heart yearned for the most? Surely it was the wheat fields which had gone on for miles; then at sunset they would become dazzling displays of color and splendor, certainly a sight to be seen. And of course, I also missed the sensation of a warm summer's wind kissing my face as I'd run through those very fields, tearing them up and marring their layout.
My childhood... If I could just leave this place and go back to those days for a few short minutes...
I allowed myself to smile, even for a moment, as I thought of all the things I loved—of the things I missed so dearly. The shop owners, the day-to-day pleasantries, the children recklessly running through Cira's streets. Life within Aridor's capital had been ideal and picturesque, though now it simply felt like a dream to think upon. And so, like closing a pretty jewelry box filled with treasures, the pleasant memories of sunlight and feathered wings faded away. Those memories were replaced by bitter reality: the bars of my cell clouding my vision.
Looks like I'm putting the jewelry box under lock and key again... Like always. Ah, why do you always put yourself into such a flurry of things, Kara?
"Someone is coming!" a man's voice called, and it came from across the walkway.
I flinched, startled by sound so suddenly piercing the veil of silence, and glanced over at the man who'd spoken up. I knew him to be Knell—a fellow prisoner in this place, and a good friend. I supposed it was inevitable that some of us would befriend one another, though... Considering we'd all been imprisoned here for eight years now. The rest of the prisoners and I had come to rely on Knell to act as a lookout, given his excellent hearing. From what I'd come to learn about him, he was a hunter, and his family had—before Aridor's fall, anyway—owned a business selling furs. He was also one of the few prisoners who regularly tried to speak to me, since most of the rest stayed silent and didn't reach out to anyone. I could understand why, though... This wasn't exactly a social club. I decided it was best not to dwell on that notion, and instead focused on Knell's announcement.

I hope it's him. I really, really hope it's him!
'Him', being Caedes, the only member of this dreadful clan Avartia who actually cared about me (not including my fellow captives of course). Caedes was my companion, an Aridoran who'd joined Avartia's calvary at a young age against his will. He was also the person in charge with serving our food, though wasn't at all how I'd met him.

It has been eight years since the day I first met eyes with him.
Well, it was safe to say I felt quite differently towards him on that day... In fact, on the day I first met Caedes—the night Aridor fell—I wished no more than death upon him. But things were different now, and he was the only constant in my life... The only thing keeping me from giving into despair. I sighed, then decided to stand and stretch my muscles, the torn material of my sleeveless shirt shifting from the movement—and it made my skin itch. Ah yes, as a prisoner I was provided with the latest fashion from the finest tailors Avartian scum could provide. Sarcasm aside, the leather boots I had were so worn that just last month I'd been forced to pull threads from my clothes. I had managed to stab a few holes into the boots with a spring I'd pulled out from my cot, all so I could 'sew' the soles back in.