Igniting A Flame {Kingdoms #1}

Thirty-Seven

Cesca Kristex brushed off the grime layered on her beige, ruffled skirt. She scowled at the dust trickling from the walls and filthy puddles scattered around the cellar, soon to find its way back onto her once pristine clothing. There was something taxing about sitting in a dim corner for hours on end, days perhaps, with nothing to do besides indulging in infinite thoughts. Cesca had never been one to recognize small details and keep them memorized, unlike the pair of brawny immortals residing in this prison as well. She had no doubt both of them had each strand of cloth and every tone of voice memorized. Gods help these captors once the immortal beasts are set loose.

Arvin furiously paced back and forth, the anger radiating from him like thick plumes. Cesca had seen the powerful man show nothing more than a twinge of annoyance from all the years she had known him, but this restlessness had been something new. Not once had he seemed uncertain of a situation or his capabilities, but this...Cesca shuddered at the thought of losing their only hope for a new world.

Yevvi curled into himself in the opposing corner to Cesca, shifting every now and then to a new position. The thundering quarrel still lingering in the air, like a phantom shadow of dread. Arvin hadn't been the only one to display new emotions. She had never seen such rage in Yevvi's soothing oak eyes. Despite his stone cold expression, Cesca peered through those brown eyes and saw a sea of regret and worry. She hadn't asked much of their journeys to Donveil nor of Lukas's own origins after Maragnus's fall, but she could tell that the golden-eyed boy was important to Yevvi; not just because of the prophecy, but also of a family bond.

Cesca admitted to having a lack of knowledge on normal family bonds as her own parents were cold and absent throughout her life. Growing up in the richer, illustrious parts of Donveil—a quaint section split off from the lesser kind—you'd think a young girl would receive anything she ever wanted. Having resided in a large royal household—holding the Kristex, Mars and Luce names—growing ladies were always vying for affirmation among the matrons. Cesca had been indifferent with the petty competitions and ruthlessness of other, much finer, woman. Instead of preening for hours on end, she preferred to hang around the many horses in the stables. She'll never forgot that one mare with the magnificent black coat; eyes of orange like pure flame.

Cesca's mother had always been surly and rife with demands for her youngest child. Find and marry an acquisitive young lord. Be a loyal wife to your loving husband. Cesca feared those common visits of other households, often carrying along a potential lord, in attempt to create a possibility for marriage. Every time, her opponents would gather around, lips slathered in red and finest dresses on; their false innocuous grins hoping to score a chance for themselves. Cesca had been known to deviate from her mother's constant commands, and like her dissenters, each time she would be punished by having the fun ripped from her. She'll never forget the day her mother sold off that wonderful mare; her punitive glare sending tears to rumble from her eyes.

After years of failed coaxing and attempts to feign appreciation and kindness to her iron willed parents, she slipped out of the imperious household in the dead of night to start her new life in a small cosy hut. Not one day goes by where she regrets her decision. Cesca's warm reminiscent smile faded as the echoes of her lost sister still stained her mind. Gods, she longed to hear her sweet voice just once more; to see her thriving and well. Her mother's overbearing leadership hadn't been what drove her off the edge, but what had become of her dear sister...Cesca shook her head, fearing what nasty thoughts may arise. She was never one for unfair and utterly rude thoughts about someone; she was far better than that.

The heavy pounding of thick leather boots boomed through the cellar, those three captors striding up to the entrance with a limp body hanging behind them. "Lukas!" Cesca pleaded, tripping over herself as she slammed into the metal bars, "You dirty buzzards. Let him go!"