The Ashes Wake

Chapter 7: Arwen

ARWEN

"Today the Queen made me practice from sunsup to sunsdown. Even when I wept because I was so tired, she made me keep going. She kept saying how special I was. She said that someday, I was going to save the Realm. Over and over and over again."

Entry from Arwen's journal, aged ten
6922 Year, Novus Season

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The Striigite-forged manacles that grasped his wrists were so tight and had been on for so long that Arwen felt he couldn't remember the last time he was free.

His place in the castle was a small, square chamber he'd come to know well. The floor was made of 36 tiles and the walls even less. They seemed to encroach ever closer, getting tighter every day, sucking the air of his world, out of his room, out of his lungs. His hair was another reminder of how long he'd been kept locked up this time-golden, disheveled, and shoulder length. He hated when it reached his shoulders.

Sudden movement made him scramble towards the small flap in the door of his hovel. A piece of parchment with cold slop on it passed through the opening and he reached for it, only to be reminded of the manacles that held him. He leaned forward instead, dropping his head to the miserable excuse of a meal.

In a matter of seconds it was gone. Only then did Arwen realize how thirsty he was and that his water hadn't been delivered with the slop.

He tried to shout but his voice wouldn't work. It was as if it had been in a deep sleep only to be suddenly awakened, like a hibernating gnome when the first warmth of the novus months reached their dens.

Arwen tried again. "Hello!" It was raspy and faint, but there. "Where-where's my water?"

Silence met his ears. He banged his feeble fists on the door, the sound of his manacles hitting the metal a painfully sharp sound, but no one came with his water. He would have cried but he didn't have the tears to spare.

Arwen thought of how reduced his life had become-forced to eat like a monster, without utensils. He hadn't bathed in weeks. His life in the castle was great, sometimes. When the Realm Queen had use for him he would eat from their dragonscale dishes, bathe in the fountains in his quarters, and sing for the famous guests of the Queen.

But that seemed very long ago. He had never been locked in the metal chamber for so long; he had never gone uncalled upon by the Queen for so long. And he knew why. It had been his bad behavior last time-his defiance to her needs.

It seemed the greatest cruelty to give him all the pleasures of the Realm and then whisk them away, reducing him to endure whatever this unimaginable torture was.

There were no windows in his chamber, and it was always cold. He hadn't seen the suns-his sweet suns, in so long. They called to him every day, wanting him to sing to them and to the Realm, but he was trapped, and he could never get out.

At least not until the Realm Queen didn't have need of him.

"But she always has need of me..." Arwen whispered to the walls and to the mice. "She always comes back, eventually."

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Do you recognize who Arwen is? If not, maybe return to the "The Before" chapter ;)