By the time the chills that leak into my cell whisper of winter, I’ve fallen almost entirely to my flame, the last comfort I have left. The snake becomes a permanent resident, its inky black eyes there to swallow my fear when it threatens to overwhelm me.
On one such day, I pace my cell, the snake sliding at my heels. Fire circles my hand, but I am not satisfied. Something cold thrills through my veins, a faint sense that change is alight.
I don’t have to wait long to confirm the thought. Just as I turn for the final of countless laps, the floor gives a violent shake, almost enough to knock me over. Stumbling, I reach for the wall, only for another tremor to shudder through the whole cell. This time, I notice the dull thud that accompanies it, muffled by distance but loud enough to travel far.
I sit down heavily, the shaking stone sliding from beneath my feet. I barely have time to brace my back against the wall before everything shakes again. It is more intense this time.
My heart thunders along with the distant sound, brought on by the confusion and panic that shivers through me. What is happening? I remember such tremors occurring once before, what she told me was an earthquake, but that was far milder than this. Besides, this does not originate from the earth. Together with the noise, it vibrates from above.
Another thud, but this one doesn’t shudder in the same way. There is more give to it. After a moment, a second tremor comes along with an almighty crash.
Something has fallen. I don’t know enough of what is above to guess at what, but it sounds huge. Tentatively, I rise, staring nervously at the ceiling. Whatever is happening above, the rigid hairs at the back of my neck suggest it is nothing good.
I strain my ears. The faint sound of regular pounding, something akin to a march, catches my attention. It soon fades, however, and though I reach my senses as far as they dare to travel, I cannot detect anything else. I pace across my cell, attempting to release my coiled frustration through my flame. The snake hisses at my side.
Silence rules, its burden heavy. Occasionally a faraway shout cuts through it, perhaps even a scream, but each ends as suddenly as it begins.
Leaning against my bars, I take it all in, fidgeting with my fire. The war comes to me, along with a rush of fear. Though my memory is cloudy, I’m sure these disturbances have not occurred before. Do they indicate a battle? Have Oscensi’s lines really fallen this far back?
A sudden noise jolts through me, sending me stumbling away from the bars. Those heavy steps again, but not directly above as before. These are closer, close enough for me to pinpoint a direction. Holding my flame close, I stare out into the gloom of the corridor beyond my cell.
A sharp, scraping hiss echoes from the darkness. Metal on metal, perhaps. I search every scrap of information I have of the world, and recall the notion of swords. Another, troubling sign that the fighting truly has reached this far, if what I hear is the meeting of blades. I have no way of knowing which way the battle is swaying, but I pray for my kingdom all the same.
Then again, it is as pointless as every other of my prayers. If the enemy has already infiltrated this far, one small duel will change nothing.
Another thought strikes me in a wave of cold, momentarily blazing my flame higher. If the war is lost, then many lives will have been taken with it. Perhaps the idea I have battled with hope for so long is a truth. Perhaps she really is dead.
With a shake of my head, I regain control, tempering the flame to a small flicker. She is stronger than that. The girl I know doesn’t like to give in.
Besides, my mind is running away from me. The whole concept could easily be a misconception on my part, a trip of my imagination, and in reality all is fine. The war is raging far away, with equal ferocity but at least some fragment of hope.
I sigh. Hope has done nothing for me. Why believe its reassurance now?
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