The Last Summoner

Chapter four

Chapter four

It's been about three days I think. It's hard to tell as I spent most of the time just lying on my back in a cold dark cell, surrounded by stone for my amusement. Here I lay pondering...no wondering would be a better word, on whether we will be saved soon or not.

True to her promise, Cynthia would come at meal times, sneaking food for my sake. There we would talk, as she explained if anything changed, while I learnt about her life style before she was captured.

She was a seamstress for her village, while her husband Bob was a miner. They have been married for fifteen years, and boy did she have a lot of stories to tell. She would talk about the children playing pranks on a daily basis, or the songs that had been sung. She would even talk about Bob's failed attempts to knit a scarf for her, a red tattered one that was larger on one end. She still cherished it with all her heart.

In return, I would tell her stories of my uncle and I.

Being the unstoppable force of brawn and no brain that he was. The amounts of bars he was kicked out of for starting a fight was nearly uncountable. Yeah, I didn't have the best stories, they were mostly the same...except for one.

"There was a time when my uncle wanted to replace his old vest that got torn during a midnight raid," I told Cynthia. "I was nine at the time, and I didn't know his size. So in order to surprise him, I went to buy one while he was still asleep, and I accidentally bought one way to small for him. That was one of the most undignified moments that I ever saw him, as I tried to give it to him in the mercenary guild as well."

"And he didn't thank you?"

"It was an expensive vest that I spent the majority of our money on, so he wasn't too please. He ended up repairing his old one himself, as he didn't actually want to depart from it. I think in the end, he threw away the one I bought him as he couldn't use it."

Cynthia couldn't contain her laughter from the story.

I stayed silent as I listened to her soothing laughter, a smile on my face. I couldn't help but feel at peace with someone listening to me.

"Hey, Cynthia, you've been married for fifteen years right?" I asked.

"Yes that's right."

"Have you ever thought about having children?"

Cynthia smile faltered slightly. Her eyes seemed to drop away from mine.

"No. My husband and I are busy all the time. We have thought about it, but it would just get in the way of work."

"I see...sorry for bringing that up."

Cynthia reeled back defensively, raising her hands up.

"It's fine don't worry about it. All the children of the village are like our own anyway."

I smiled, as she ruffled my head, being wary of my wound. She returned the smile, and stood back up.

"I'll be back tomorrow, don't do anything strenuous, and don't be seen by the trolls outside this cell."

"I get it. You said this multiple times already," I muttered.

"It's just a reminder. Have a good rest Marcus."

She left the cell, closing the gates as softly as she could, before disappearing with the lamp she carried. Once my cell was fully dark once more, I lay back down on the bits of hay and closed my eyes.

As I tried to go to sleep, the heavy steps of trolls dragged something along the floor. There were growls of anger, as I opened my eyes once more.

I peered outside the cell, so see a rough silhouette of a couple of trolls dragging a body along the floor. The opening of another cell could be heard, before they threw the body in, before closing the door and locking it. There were a couple of snorts, before the unconscious looking figure seemed to twitch. The two trolls flinched, and both took a step back before stopping, as the unconscious figure didn't move anymore. Satisfied, the two trolls left, as I lay my head back down on the floor, closing my eyes and pretending to sleep once more.