Displaced

Chapter 62

Over the past few seasons, Arlette Faredin had been inside so many different dungeons and cells that she felt she could write a guide book about them. As far as dungeons went, Crirada's was by far the best she'd seen. Instead of being chained to a wall, unable to move about, she had an entire cell to herself. The cell, one of the "three solid walls and one made out of metal bars" variety, was surprisingly spacious given what she was used to and even had a straw mattress in the corner. It was still a dungeon, though. The presence of a bed didn't alter the fact that she'd been locked up beneath the citadel in Crirada for the last day and a half, trying not to lose her mind.

The story of Arlette's childhood had, as expected, fallen entirely on deaf ears. Erizio Astalaria was, for all his insufferable flaws, an incredibly respected leader and warrior. The most powerful earth Observer known, he single-handedly forestalled any Ubran attempts at tunneling beneath the great wall surrounding the city. Not only that, he and his staff had expertly managed the defenses of the city so that Crirada still stood in defiance of the Ubran armies, something that few would be able to accomplish. But that brilliance came with a level of arrogance and high self-regard that meant Arlette would never be able to convince him he was wrong. Supreme General Erizio Astalaria wasn't one to let the truth get between him and his conclusions, and sadly enough for her, he'd concluded decades ago that she was some secret Ubran agent.

It looked like Arlette's role in the Siege of Crirada was over. She'd likely remain here in this cell for the remainder of the battle and be taken by the Ubrans, or Erizio would kill her. She wasn't sure which was a worse fate.

With a depressed sigh, Arlette fell back onto the straw mattress and stared at the ceiling. It felt absolutely wretched to be so powerless. Here she was, stuck in a cell while Sebastian lurked in the city, free to enact his diabolical plan.

Or was he? Arlette had been so sure this time that she'd found him, so sure that she'd basically bet somebody else's life on it. Her failure had thrown everything she'd believed since starting this entire debacle into doubt. The siege of Crirada had in many ways been an accident. The disappearance of the so-called "monster" who had rampaged through Nocend was likely the only reason that Crirada hadn't fallen as quickly as the cities that had come before it. Had the Ubrans planned this? Had there been a limit to how much this monster woman could take before she was out of commission, and the Ubrans had known that meant they wouldn't be able to use her at Crirada? Because if they hadn't known, there would be no reason to send Sebastian here as they wouldn't have thought they'd need him.

Everything that she'd bet her life on, and by extension Sofie's and Pari's lives, was based on assumptions, feelings, and guesswork. At the time it hadn't felt that way, but now, in the cold dampness of the dungeon, she saw her decisions in a different light. She'd become so swept up in her hatred of the Empire and Sebastian for what they'd done to her homeland that she'd made choices based on pain and past trauma rather than cold logic. The very idea that she'd be able to have any effect on the outcome was patently laughable now. She felt adrift like she was falling through an empty void, unable to do anything but spin wildly in turmoil.

"That's quite a face you're making, you know."

Arlette flailed about in surprise so hard that she fell off the mattress. After coming back to her senses, she looked up to find a man in his twenties with long, dark brown hair lying on the straw just beside where she'd been, his hands reaching up to cup behind his head in a relaxed, nonchalant manner.

"Peko, if I could strangle you right now..."

"Hey, Arlette, how's it going?" the man replied with a cheeky grin. "You really got yourself in a mess now, didn't you?"