Of Winds And Quakes

25. The Cell

Year of the Lilies
Torrid Season
Dungeon
Altsas

Alysia

MY HEAD THROBS AND MY BREATHE SMELLS FOUL. I'm totally disoriented and chained to the wall of this stone prison, this leaky cell of the dungeon. Though tomorrow is New Year's Eve, the new year marks the beginning of a new season - the Floral Season but the air is still thick with humidity of the Torrid and my skin is sticky and clammy with sweat.

Next to me is a bowl of a creamy watery broth and though my tummy churns and grumbles, I won't give in and eat that disgusting looking broth. It has a sour stench, and it seems like it has been here since the last prisoner. The spoon that lodges in the broth is coated with white crusty something, just looking at it makes me shudder.

Two statue-like soldiers guard my cell. They haven't so much as shuffled their feet since I woke up. Are they even alive? I doubt it. I sit still and stare at their erect backs and wonder how they can have such great posture. I fidget and move my chained hand so the chain rattles and clangs hoping to get their attention but they don't seem to hear me or rather, they are pretending not to hear me.

My throat is dry and my tongue sticks to the roof my mouth. My lips are cracked and they sting whenever I run my dry tongue over them. My whole body aches and one side of my face is numb.I'm extremely dehydrated and I need water immediately. And a bed. I need a bed and a dozen of pillows and some food. I won't mind having a nice meal after days of starvation.

To survive today, I'll need some water. My eyes flicker to the still statues again, their stiff stance makes them almost frightening but I do need a drink.

Should I call the guards? Would they listen to me? Would they even do as much as flinch? I'll try my luck. I run my tongue over my lips, I wince at the sting and clear my throat summoning all the courage I have left in this broken, battered body of mine.

"Excuse me," it is a faint whisper. I can barely even hear myself. "Hello?" I'm much louder this time but they don't move. The whole dungeon is in pindrop silence and I'm being to wonder if I'm the only prisoner, why aren't I hearing moans and wails? Maybe the other prisoners are used to the system.

"Guards?!" I'm quickly losing my patience and consciousness. I'd die of thirst if I don't get some water soon. My yell is hoarse but loud enough to scare away a rodent. They still don't move, they don't even turn to glance at me.

"Shut up, witch." One of the guards hiss with disdain. Though their backs are turned to me, I don't need their expression to show me how much they dislike me. I don't blame them at all, I destroyed some properties and scared their citizens to insanity. Not to mention the flying in the whirlwind act I put on. I'd be calling myself a witch if I was in their shoes.

But it is partly not my fault. In fact, it's not my fault at all! I didn't ask for this kind of life, I never asked for the zapping sparks that surge through my veins, I didn't ask for the powers I possess and I can hardly control myself once my emotions get the better of me. Not that I'd want to.

But my actions have backfired, instead of me running free and trying to locate my sister, I'm shackled to the wall in a stony dungeon cell. If I had any water in me I would have been weeping by now.

"Please," I say in a small squeaky voice," I need water." The situation I'm in is very pathetic; I'm chained to a wall and begging two hard-headed guards for a drink of water.

"Shut up," a deeper voice snaps. "Or we'll shut you up." It's a threat.

My mouth clams shut. I don't exactly know what the soldier means by that but I don't want to find out. Sighing, I lean backwards and rest my frail aching body on the hard stony wall and I shut my eyes. It's becoming extremely hard to breathe, I don't understand how I survive every breath. With every inhale of air, my ribs ache and a shock of pain stills me. My arm is numb - I can't even feel it anymore and my legs are having the case of pins and needles with every shuffle.