Silver Silence

Illusions of the Fevered Mind

Once Sonia started replacing his food, the drug took a week to leave Siles' system. The nausea came in crashing waves, the burning spread from his skin to his stomach, and on the sixth day, he lost his sight. The darkness started as spots, like drops of watercolor with uneven liquid edges. Then it spread like a wildfire, engulfing his vision until nothing remained.

Siles didn't tell anyone. He continued to lay on the dirt floor as he had the previous six days of his withdrawal from the drug. He kept his eyes shut most of the time, but opened them periodically to check if his vision had returned. Retrospectively, he realized he should have eased himself off of the drugged food instead of cutting it off all at once. He hadn't known just high his dosage had been. But he refused to focus on the past. He decided the blindness was nothing more than a symptom. A temporary symptom, just like the fever and the twisting feeling in his gut. It would go away. If it didn't, and the blindness remained after the fever and nausea left, then he would tell August. But not yet. He didn't want August to worry.

On the seventh day, Siles awoke to a cool breeze, trickling through the boards covering the dungeon's half-moon window. For the first time since he had arrived in that dark and damp place, he felt good. He lay there for a moment, relishing the feeling. He doubted it would survive the test of movement. Movement would bring the nausea and the pain rushing back, he was sure of it. After Siles started to notice the hard dirt floor pressing against his spine, he opened his eyes.

A guard stared down at him. A frown twisted his lips, shades of green and blue streaked his irises, and several white hairs sprouted in the space between his salt and pepper eyebrows. Siles couldn't help but laugh. The guard's frown deepened, but Siles' smile widened. He could see. His hopes had come true. The blindness had been temporary after all.

"Has he gone mad, too?" the guard turned away from him, looking at August.

"I... don't think so?" August replied.

Siles quickly suppressed his euphoria. He shoved himself upright and leaned against the wall. For once, the ground remained steady beneath him. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he examined the guard crouched in front of him. The guards had never entered their cells before, not even to deliver their meals. Something had to be wrong. "I tend to laugh when I'm surprised," Siles lied. "Why are you here?"

"I am responsible for keeping important prisoners alive, and yesterday's shift informed me that you were unwell. They described you as sweating, pale, and unconscious during most of the food deliveries." The guard removed a glove and pressed the back of his hand against Siles' forehead. "You don't feel feverish."

"I feel fine," Siles said.

"You feel fine?" The guard frowned.

"I'm tired and I can't stay on my feet," Siles corrected himself to keep the guard's suspicions at bay. "But I assume that's because of whatever your people have done to me. Besides that, I'm fine."

The guard put his glove back on and stood up. "Regardless, I will have to bring you to the infirmary. The Queen would kill me if something happened to you." He extended a hand, and it took Siles a moment to realize he was offering to help him up.

Siles took the guard's hand and swayed when he stood, falling against the guard in a show of weakness. In reality, he felt fantastic. He wanted to leap into the air and relish the feeling of the steady ground when he landed. The guard didn't know this, of course. He led Siles out of the cell and fumbled to pull a pair of handcuffs off of his belt. He wasn't following the safety protocols Siles would have expected in a castle dungeon, but then again, the guard thought his prisoners were drugged.