The Stars Whispers

~ Chapter 3 ~

Dahlia hadn't stood in days, or maybe months, she couldnt really tell, time blurs together when your living in a rotting cell. Her legs felt like two thin tooth picks about to snap as they walked.

The soldier hadn't said another word since they left the cell. He dragged her by the arm into a long dark hallway that she'd only seen through the crack of the door years ago when she had the energy to move. Hundreds of cells lined the walls yet it was pure silence as they walked past.
"Magic" the man says as if reading her mind "they keep the cells sound proof".

Dahlia couldnt help the icy cold hand that trickled down her spine.
How many poor people are looked in these cells to make them do such a thing Dahlia thought as her head fell to look at herself. She couldnt quiet see her skin beneath the thick darkness that surrounded them but she could just make out the slight flow of her thin night gown covered in dirt. It was so thin that she was positive it was see through.

The soldier lead her down numerous hallways, all filled with rusty cell doors.
She tilts her head to peer at the soldiers face, it was emotionless, utterly still. His grip on her arm occasionally loosens as if he were repulsed to even touch her skin.
I could say the same about you

A stench shes never smelt before whacks her in the face. To the left a cell door is ripped from its hinges, revealing a rotting man lying on the floor
"What happened?" It was more of a squeak than a questions but in the hallway you could here the wind it self.
"The man was an accused murderer, he had denied for the past 14 years, he broke the wards that prevent magic wielders from using there abilities but somehow he learnt to defy it" through the dark she could see his face go pale but he kept moving. "He put a spell on his cell that makes no one able to enter, he ripped off the door and stabbed himself 6 times with a magic knife, hes been rotting ever since"
"How long" the words escape as soon as he finishes, "How long"she brings out between clenched teeth as he didnt answer.
His head turned to look at her, sorrow, pure sorrow filled his eyes "18 months"
Her legs immediately jolt, 18 months, 18 months hes been rotting there, all for a statement to show he wasnt a killer, they where. Her breath comes in uneven puffs. Hes an innocent, like me. He deserves to be buried next to a beautiful pond filled with flowered or even cremated. Not rotting in a cell he was forced to live in.
Without another thought Dahlia tips her arm free from the soldiers grip and sprints. Not for freedom, but to the man.

She had been memorizing the turns they had taken since she left her cell. She knew she was right when she was greeted by the stench of the poor man.
No light lit the mans cell, only the dimness of the hallway.
Her iron chains click as she reaches towards the invisible magic barrier. Let me in, she thought whilst feeling the power of the wall pulse under her touch, let me in.

Her hands began to glow. The colour of pure blood, no, the colour of tremendous power. Even with the chains clad around her hands. It shouldn't be possible but it is.
In only a few seconds the cell caught aflame. She had lit the cell on fire without even stepping in the room, as if she wielded the air itself the set aflame.

The air around her went still and she could feel the soldier taking steps backwards but she ignored him.

"18 months is enough, you have done your deed, know go rest and be at peace" she whispered to the flames.

The flames moved around the room like an old dance.
An image of a group of dances clad in red and orange dresses that flowed as they danced along a stage flashed before her eyes.
Who am I, she thought as she stared blankly at the flames.

Darkness swallowed her hole as a cold her gripped her arm.