The Dreamfarer

35

Mae woke up in shackles. 

Her pulse roared in her ears and she glanced around frightfully. She saw that the chains of her shackles were fastened to the ceiling, just the right length to allow her to stand, her arms stuck in the air and clasped together. When she looked down, she saw that her ankles were also chained to little handles on the floor.

Her head was pounding like a drum, pain from her temple jolting throughout her body with each strike. She had no idea what she had been hit with, but by the feel of her bruise, she figured it was something hard and heavy. 

It took her a while to realize where she was, and the only reason she even did was because of how much time both of her parents had spent here throughout her childhood. She was in the Royal building; the place where Swynborough's Congregation met, and the place that the Enforcers, along with other branches of the town's local government, made use of whenever necessary. 

It took Mae much less time to realize that she was in a cell. The bars in front of her were not rusted as she had always imagined cell bars to be; they were perfectly polished, a gleaming silver, as were the chains and shackles she was restrained with. 

When she looked through the bars, she recognized the Congregational room, somewhere she had been inside numerous times throughout the years, whether it be to just go talk to her father or fetch him for dinner. She knew the room by heart, and thus she knew that she must be in the only cell that occupied the space here.

Most prisoners were sent to the lower levels, into cells where the noise they made would not bother anyone that happened to be working. However, there was one cell in the Congregational room for when the members of the Congregation needed to interrogate a prisoner. If Mae remembered correctly, this cell had been occupied by many criminals both petty and dangerous alike. Some of them had been tried and released, others had been tried and sent back to the basement holdings, but a few had been tried and executed. Mae hoped that that had not happened in this very cell; the thought made her cringe.

The entire wall opposite Mae was made up of glass, but a type that would hold up against most non-magical attacks, for the safety of the members of the Congregation inside. Mae strained against her bindings, wishing she could stand against the glass and survey her town; the blizzard was still raging, that much she could see from here, but she was too far from the window-wall to make out any details.

"Please don't fight against the restraints, Mae," an apathetic voice said. "I would rather not hurt you again."

Mae tore her eyes from the storm outside and searched the room for her sister. She found Vivienne sitting at the head of the table that the Congregation members sat at when there was a meeting or trial in session. Her feet were propped up on its marble edge and she was holding what Mae thought was a nail file, examining her nails as if she did not have a single care in the world.

"What is this, Vivienne?" Mae demanded, still struggling. She bucked her body, hoping that if she did so with enough force, the chains that were binding her wrists might pull out of the roof of the cell. Instead, all she was rewarded with was a violent chafing from the cuffs, and she let out a weak cry at the pain.

Vivienne tutted and started on the nails of her other hand. "I told you not to fight them."

Mae lifted her chin and glared towards her twin. "What is going on, Vivienne? Why am I in here?"

Vivienne smirked in her direction and laid down the nail file. She crossed one ankle over the other and leaned against one of the arms of the chair, giving Mae her full attention. Mae could not see in her sister's face any sign of remorse, any indication that Viv had been forced into doing what she had done, that she was not perfectly content with the current situation. It terrified Mae, and she had no idea what it might mean.