Elvirund | ✔️

Chapter Thirty

Caphriel slipped in and out of the shadows, hoping to sneak past the guards. There had been very little trouble up until this point, but she wasn't terribly optimistic about the remaining distance. The most difficult part was this last hallway. The only bonus for her was that few had seen her face in two centuries.

"Cobalt!"

"Who's there?"

"Leimar."

Thus, the coast was clear. She ran, slipping on a few of the stones, and came to a stop outside Alethia's cell, where the door was slightly ajar. She crept inside and softly shut the door, calming her breathing. A lantern was shoved in her hand; she lit it and shined the gentle glow over Alethia's face. Her cheek had swollen and both sides were bruised. All down her arms ran scrapes and more bruises. Caphriel gazed in horror at the lacerations, wondering what had come over the First Elder to do this.

"Leimar, was the First crazy?"

"I would like to believe so."

The Second's voice was so broken that she immediately knew. The First Elder had acted deliberately, under no influence. He hadn't been crazy, and he hadn't been inhibited by anything. Caphriel set the lantern down, kneeling by Alethia.

"I hope she'll be alright. I think he's damaged her too far by now." Caphriel sighed.

"She flinches when anything gets too close to her face."

"I know, and I hate it."

The Second Elder shrugged from his seat at the door. Caphriel silently fumed. He didn't care either, it seemed. Did anyone, in fact? Maybe she was the only one that had any qualms about the situation. It was painful, living this way. Her only hope was that one night she could somehow distract the Second Elder and sneak Alethia out.

"I can't expect you to care, I suppose."

"I don't care as much as I am guessing you would like me to. I just don't want the First Elder to do anything that will put the rest of us in a bad light."

"I don't blame you."

She absentmindedly toyed with a lock of Alethia's hair, running it between her fingers and twirling it around. Alethia looked withdrawn, even in rest, and the struggles she had fought through showed clearly on her face. The bruises were a ghastly purple in the dim light; the abrasions all over her arms and legs glowed a caustic red. Caphriel was angry, tired, upset. The First had overstepped many boundaries with Alethia, and was taking more of Raphael's power every day.

"How much did he hit her?"

"He kicked her countless times, anywhere he could land his foot, and he slapped her across the face quite a few times."

"If I kill him he had it coming, then."

"You could say that."

"Good."

Caphriel rested her head on the wall, a hand gently tracing Alethia's wrist scars. The skin was raised and freshly healed, red from the irritation of the dirt and constant rubbing against other things. She breathed shallowly, possibly from the pain of the bruises, and Caphriel cursed in her head.

"You had better go. I think I hear footsteps above us."

"Three days, then."

"Three days."

She stood and nodded, a soft sigh escaping her lips. The Second Elder had been gracious enough to allow her to bypass security every three days, and if it were to continue she had no choice but to comply. He made sure she got in and out safely, so she couldn't necessarily do whatever she wanted. But she appreciated the effort, and the Second was not nearly as bad as the First.