"Freedom." Winter cried out to the silhouette standing in front of her. "That is all I wanted, your majesty, to be Free." She had a twinkle in her eyes, as if she were dreaming of a better life. A life where she could escape these chains and iron bars keeping her from the outside world, a life where she wouldn't be a victim to prying eyes, a life where she could be herself and not be judged, a life where she could truly be Free.
"You will never know true Freedom, my dear," A deep, shrill voice replied, his thin lips creating an echo as he spoke. "But thanks to my kind and, forgiving, nature, I have freed you from the fate of an execution. However, I can't just ignore your little trick. That, my dear, is why you will stay here in this cell for the rest of your life." He brought his face down to hers and twisted a wicked smile, "Execution would've been too quick, Sweetie. Watching as you rot is much more satisfying." He spun on his heels and trudged out of the cell, smothered in his pride.
"But, it-" Winter cried out, but was cut off by the echo of the gate as its metal bars clanged against another. Soon following it was the click of the lock. "It wasn't me..." She succeeded in fighting back the tears when the King confronted her, but now she could no longer hide them. She sobbed into her dirty, raw hands and when she looked up, anger filled her eyes and she gritted her teeth. She lurched forward at the bars to bust her way out, but the chains stopped her about a foot away. She screamed with anger and longing but no one came. After a few minutes, she slumped back down against the solid, concrete wall.
'How could I have trusted them?' She thought to herself. 'They aren't my friends, just a bunch of thieving, lying cons.' She shook her head in regret and disbelief as she realised she was never going to be Free.
Hours passed and no guards checked on the prisoner. Winter heard footsteps on the hard, cobble floor edging closer to her cell. "Hello?" She asked. "Who's there?" She listened out for a voice, but there was no reply, just more footsteps. She could start to see a huge shadow forming on one of the dungeon walls from the torchlight. Sweat started to bead at the top of her forehead and she wiped her clammy hands on her tunic.
A dragon about the size of a small dog gave out a pitiful growl and peered around the corner. The familiar sight of his greeny - blue scales filled Winter with relief and warmth, despite their cold and wet glisten. He sneezed and a small, orange flame burst out of his nostrils. Winter laughed and flinched. After spending hours in the complete silence, she forgot the sound of her own laugh.
"Anwyl, over here buddy," She whispered. As if he read her thoughts, Anwyl trudged over to the iron bars, coiled his neck back and lurched it forward again. His tiny mouth opened wide as giant red flames pressed up against the bars, a wave of heat flowing past them and hitting Winter like a punch in the face. She turned away, shielding her eyes as they burned in the heat.
Moments passed and Winter felt the cool, night air against her face again. She turned to her dragon and could see him clearer through the gaping hole in the bars, where the iron just simply melted away. Her heart thumped against her chest and her palms felt sweaty. Her mouth felt dry as she realised that she might just be able to escape. She paused, gathered her thoughts and then ran forward forgetting about the restraints forced on her wrists and ankles. Anwyl read the expression on her face and melted away the four chains bolted to the wall. She ran out of the cell, grabbing Anwyl and perching him on her shoulder.
'How had he got through the gates?' She thought as she ran, 'Dragons have been forbidden here for years, surely he wouldn't have gone unnoticed.' The cold, gritty stone stung at her bare feet as she thumped them hard against the path in a fast rhythm. She finally reached a corner and peered round it. A smile crept up on her as she saw her tatty, old satchel lying on a wooden table. Two guards stood in between her and the table, armed with a large bow and quiver on their backs, a long sword with an engraved hilt in their sheaths and a knife hooked on the breast pocket of their chain mails.
Winter's head hurt as she desperately tried to come up with a plan, but before she could do anything, Anwyl had already walked off into the open and the guards darted towards him with swords unsheathed and their knuckles turning white from the tight grip. She panicked and exposed herself, running to pick her mischievous Dragon up and then dart in the opposite direction. But, as she neared Anwyl, a thin object whistled past her ear and into one of the guards' flesh. He fell to the ground quickly just as a figure dressed in a dark green, hooded robe rushed past her and armed his bow with another arrow, firing it at the other guard's head. There was something about the way he moved that was almost elegant and swift, in Winter's eyes. The guard raised his sword and the arrow bounced off the strong metal. He grinned while the figure fired another, but this time up at the wooden beam above his head. He followed the arrow with his eyes and ran forward, still looking up. Just as the guard looked forward again, a knife embedded itself in the middle of his brow. Winter yelped in shock at the sight, she didn't even see him throw it. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his eyes stared blankly at the air in front if him, as he sunk to the ground with a thud.
"Uh, thanks." Winter said, still staring at the hilt of the knife stuck in the guards skull. The figure didn't reply and just pulled the arrows out of the beam and the guard and retrieved his knife. Winter watched as the guard's arms and legs twitched when the knife wiggled in his brain. The figure wiped the blade of the knife with a red-stained rag. She tasted bile and had to hold her stomach. After putting his weapons away, the figure bent down and stroked Anwyl, who lovingly soaked up the attention like water. Winter hopped over the guards bodies, gasping when she saw blood pouring from the other guard's eye, where the arrow had sunk directly into his pupil. She grabbed her satchel from the table and ran back to the figure, trembling over what he'd just done to protect her. 'Why is he doing this?'
The sound of chain mail rattling and swords scraping against leather filled the staircase behind the wooden table. The figure grabbed Winters arm and she felt the blood pulse harder through the veins in her fingers.
"Ow, you're hurting my arm." She whispered, feeling as if she was talking to no one as the figure blanked her. He loosened his grip and she sighed in relief. Having never been in this part of the castle before, she felt lost and hoped that the person guiding her knew where they were going. Breathless, Winter begged for them to stop. She bent her head over her knees and gasped for air. The figure could have kept running, he was in no way out of breath. A leathery mask covered his mouth and nose, making him look even more mysterious. 'What is it that he's hiding?'. A torch on the castle wall above them cast a shadow over his head, and for the first time since he saved her, Winter could see his eyes. To her surprise, she saw that they glowed an icy blue and pierced through the shadow hovering over them. Their eyes met for a second before he tore his gaze from her.
An arrow broke the silence as it dug into the wall at breakneck speed. Winter yelped and the figure grabbed her arm once again, pulling her in the direction of one of the watch towers. Anwyl flapped by their heads and let out a small roar. Once Winter had regained her strength, she ran faster, running side by side with the figure. They looked at each other as they ran and his eyes crinkled as his cheeks raised. A smile.
