Beautiful Darkness

➵A Silence Filled with Words

Morning turned into night and the stars blissed into days. I don't know how long I have been in this cell. My thoughts have consumed me while nightmares lock me away in the cage that is my subconscious.

Consciousness is a man's compass and I am quickly losing direction.

Dakota continues to be the only person I have had interaction with excluding my first confrontation with the interrogator. I questioned at times if even he was real; my dreams consumed most of my being. I was weak beyond comparison. Skin and bones is all I have become. All that is left is the fight inside me. A lullaby my caregiver sang to me when I was a child rises to my drifting thoughts. She represented the mother figure I always craved to have. My lips crack open as I lightly hum along.

Baby mine, don't you cry.
Baby mine, dry your eyes.
Rest your head, close to my heart,
Never to part, baby of mine.

Little one, when you play,
Pay no heed, what they say.
Let your eyes sparkle and shine,
Never a tear, baby of mine.

If they knew all about you,
They'd end up loving you too.
All those same people who scold you,
What they'd give just for the right to hold you.

From your head down to your toes,
You're not much, goodness knows.
But, you're so precious to me,
Sweet as can be, baby of mine.

My discomfort slowly dissipates as the words turn over in my head. I drift back into a dead sleep.

***************

An infinity of time passes before I awake again. The metal noise of the door once againrings throughout the room. The interrogator walks in.I squirm away from his presence, too weak to tolerate him.

"I see our Princess is looking well."

"Screw off." A wicked grin slides across his lips. He walks several feet until he is directly in front of me. His eyes flicked down to my tied limbs.

"Tsk. Tsk. Your hands look broken," His fake empathy rolls off of my shoulders. "I suppose your exterior is finally reflecting the interior." With a quick movement I did not know I was capable of in this condition, I slam the front of my head into his. He stumbles backwards into the wall. His hands are once again around my neck. I struggle to breath as his nails claw into my neck. My skull throbs as his grip tightens.

"For someone who looks like a frail old woman, I'm genuinely surprised you had the strength."

"It doesn't take much to surprise a Light." I emphasize my bitterness. All of a sudden he releases my neck leaving me confused.

"Smart girl. Trying to arouse my anger to avoid the real reason for this confrontation."

Actually I just wanted to beat the grin off of your ignorant face.

I bite my tongue.

"I have a few additional questions, Princess. For instance, who are your parents?" The question answers itself, the king and queen. I answer regardless.

"King Dimitri Beaumont and Queen Electreia Beaumont." He simply nods his head.

"What about their spiritual identities?" He presses.

Spiritual identities identify every person's beliefs. Typically, the matter is very private and personal. Each identity signifies a certain history or event that directly affect the believer. The energy alone can be associated with immense power. Only those of a bloodline receive an identity. I have yet to have chosen one.