Regent Witch

Chapter Ten

Rats scurried off to the sound of the creaking door and the light of the torch. If odor could kill, the entire dungeon would have been quarantined. Sasha travelled down the long and dark staircase with Rosemary and a guard. The princess tightly squeezed a handkerchief over her nose. Unfortunately, the piece of cloth did little to keep the smell from pinching her senses. Sasha gave a firm expression of disgust with every small breath she took.

The entire dungeon was engulfed with darkness and shadows. The only source of light and air came from the narrow space under the door. Everything was dim, even with a torch in hand. Sasha was barely able to see anything around her, but the muddied floor. If it weren't for the mild groans and ringing chains, Sasha would have never guessed that anyone was in the dungeon.

They wandered, until they reached a cell. The guard held up the torch. Light spread a bit further into the cell, revealing a scrawny man in chains. It was the former "Sir" Jean. The man still in chains and his eyes still looked as damaged. Thick shadows grew under his eyes, while his mouth hang open for dust to circulate in.

Oddly enough, his body didn't look as bad as Sasha had expected. He was undoubtedly covered in dirt and he did have the smell of a wet horse, but considering the information he kept from the regent, Sasha was expecting scars and some missing teeth. Sasha felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment at the prisoner's disposition.

"Sir Jean?" Sasha called out.

The prisoner took about three seconds to raise his head and a few more seconds to recognize his visitor. He closed his lips and swallowed whatever saliva he had left on his tongue. "Princess?" he wheezed out.

Sasha replied with a nod. "It is I," she confirmed. Sasha turned to the guard that accompanied her. "You are dismissed. Just leave the torch."

The guard bowed and handed the torch to Rosemary. Sasha fell silent. No one said a word, until the guard had left the dungeon and closed the door behind him. Soon, a light slam was heard and darkness crept back behind them. It was much darker with only a torch. The flame's light barely revealed Jean's bony face.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Jean first spoke.

Sasha collected her thoughts. Several questions crossed her mind. "I need to know about the tonic," she replied.

Sir Jean swallowed. "If you're also looking for a way to make the tonic, then I am afraid I cannot help you," he said.

"No, that's not it," Sasha said. "I just need information about it. What can it actually do?"

Sir Jean grunted and fixed his position a little. "The tonic is a concoction of evil," he answered. "It supposedly could grant strength, remove fear and pain. However, it comes at a price. Upon drinking it, a person loses themselves to madness and goes into a blood frenzy."

"Why did you want this tonic?" Sasha asked.

"I didn't know about the effects, I swear!" Sir Jean cried. "Despite my position, there was a subordinate that outshined me. He was nowhere near my rank, yet others had greater respect for him. Envious of his skills, I took the tonic in hopes to impress the others as well."

"Clearly it didn't work out," Sasha said, crossing her arms.

"Once I regain my senses, I found my sword bathed in the blood of my enemies and friends," Sir Jean sank. "My envy took the best of me and caused me to spill the blood of my brothers."

"Rather disgraceful for a knight, I must say," the words blurted out of Sasha's mouth. Though harsh, the princess felt no urge of retracting her criticism. "Where did you even get the tonic?"