I woke slowly, eyes heavy and lashes sticking together. I was in a different bed now: a small one, not as comfortable as the one I had fallen asleep in. A single blanket covered me, although it was thick and warm, so much more than I was used to. The only other sensation was the dull pain from my escape and fall, and the ache that was always there; it melted together with the pain from the fall.

“Augustus?” Cornelius appeared in the corner of my vision. “Welcome back.” He seemed amused. I was able to shift a bit to see him sitting on the stone floor next to the small bed. “How do you feel? You slept for a good chunk of time.”

In response, my stomach growled.

Cornelius lightly laughed. He shifted on the floor, kneeling beside me. He held up some jerky for me. I grabbed it, quickly eating it. It wasn’t enough. My stomach growled again. I cuddled under the blanket, looking away from him. He just laughed again, pulling the blanket down a bit.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He tapped my nose, then stood up. He walked out of the tiny area, sure to close the curtain that separated me from the rest of the room.

Nearby, I heard someone else mumble and shift on their own bed.

“Marek? Is something wrong?”

“...C-cold. So cold. W-want… Stefan.”

The voice got a bit louder, “Hey, Cornelius. Tell Stefan that Marek wants him.”

“Okay,” Cornelius called back.

“Cornelius is gonna go get Stefan,” the man gently said. “Do you want another healing potion, or more blankets?”

Marek didn’t reply, but I heard him shiver and whimper.

“Okay, I’ll get you more blankets,” the man said. I heard his footsteps echo off the walls. He returned quickly, softly shushing Marek’s whines. “There you go. Warmer?”

“Mm, a bit,” Marek mumbled.

He then fell silent. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. The man’s footsteps echoed off the cavern walls. He gently hummed to himself.

I slowly sat up, looking around.

The walls were made of wood frame with fabric stretched between them. They were balanced carefully on the stone floor, held to the wall and ceiling with chains. As a door, there was a long piece of cloth hanging down from a wooden bar that was held to the ceiling by thicker chains.

All the memories of the previous night came flooding back to me. I let out a shaky breath, leaning on the creaking headboard. My hands were shaking. There were new bandages, clean and soft, around my wrists and ankles. I still wore the blood-covered tunic Bianor had put me in. The small table beside the bed had a pile of folded clothes; grey and soft, with a couple patches of colorful fabric scraps.

I jumped at the sound of a voice. “Marek?” It was Stefan. “Marek, my spark?”

“Mm, Stefan…?” Marek moaned. “Hi.”

“Hello, darling,” Stefan whispered. “How do you feel?”

“...Cold.”

Then Cornelius returned, holding the same small leather bag from before. He sat on the floor next to the bed, opening up the bag. He held it out to me. Jerky. I grabbed the bag, eagerly beginning to eat.

“Okay, okay, slow down there,” Cornelius laughed.

“He eating a lot?” Stefan laughed from the other room.

“Yeah, he likes jerky,” Cornelius replied.

“Mm, shh,” Marek mumbled. “I tired.”

“Okay, we’ll be quiet,” Stefan softly replied.

Cornelius looked at me, holding his finger up to his lips. I nodded, continuing to nibble on the jerky. He went back to his little diagram on the floor. He picked up a bit of charcoal, beginning to draw. As I slowly ate, savoring each little bite, I inspected the diagram over his shoulder. I couldn’t tell what it was. I leaned down, trying to read the words he was writing. Could I even still read anymore?

“What’s… bla-ast pow-der?” My voice was barely a whisper.

Cornelius froze. He slowly turned to look up at me. His dark eyes were wide with shock. He breathed, “You…. You can read?” When I carefully nodded, not quite sure, he softly gasped, “H-how…? Were…. Augustus, were you captured or born into slavery? Did you have any education?”

What to say? My own parents had locked me away, hidden my existence from the world, but I still was taught how to read and write, even if my skills were rusty. I bit my lip, looking away. I glanced up at him, then looked back down. I pulled my knees to my chest and gripped the blanket, unsure of what to say.

“Augustus?” Cornelius’s voice softened.

I glanced up at him, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

He seemed disappointed, but nodded. I pushed the blanket away, swinging my legs over the side. Cornelius motioned to the pair of leather shoes that awaited me. I was slowly able to put them on after a bit of struggling, a bit of pain, and a bit of help from him. I took the cloak that was folded on the table, wrapping it around myself and pulling the hood up, and I held the pile of new clothes to my chest.

“If you’re taking him to the pools, take him the back way,” Stefan piped up.

“I will,” Cornelius told him. He lowered his voice to speak to me, “You probably need to bathe, anyway.”

All I could do was nod.

As he led me through the dim caverns, Cornelius began softly talking to me, “So… you can read? I don’t think I’ve ever met a slave that can read. Commoners being able to read isn’t exactly an everyday sight, let alone slaves. In that case, you must’ve been captured. Will you at least tell me how old you were? How old you are now?”

I hesitated, then breathed, “I think I’m… 27. Bit difficult to tell in the dungeons, but…. Emperor Bianor would always give me something, even if it was just a bath free of the guards.”

“Well, you’re completely free now. No emperor to tell you what to do.” He glanced back at me, “The emperor would give you things? On your birthday?”

I nodded, smiling at the faint memories. His gifts grew less and less over the years, turning into either a small pastry, being allowed to bathe on my own, or sometimes even a new tunic. But maybe what he had told me was true. Maybe he really did have some love left for me.

The pools were located in a cavern with many waterfalls flowing from one pool to the next. There were tattered lanterns sitting about, flickering amber and casting their light like snakes along the walls.

“I can leave, if you’d like,” Cornelius said. “I’d just like to take those bandages to wash, and put some fresh balm on your wrists and ankles. There’s soap and towels there, and those clothes should be a bit big on you.”

“I….” I didn’t know what to say. I managed to choke out, eyes burning, “I don’t think I want to be alone.”

Cornelius looked surprised. “...Okay,” his voice was soft. “Okay. I’ll… just… turn away and let you get yourself sorted.”

I sniffled as he turned around, then began fumbling with the cloak. I tossed the bloody tunic aside, hissing in pain as I unwrapped the bandages to reveal my raw and peeling ankles and wrists. My feet were cut up, and so bruised they were almost entirely blue on the bottom. My nails were broken, and there were bruises all over my arms and legs, particularly dark around my hips. I kept the new clothes close as I carefully crept into one of the pools.

The water was surprisingly warm, much warmer than the cold baths the servants forced upon me before I was meant to sway someone. I sunk into it, curling up with my knees to my chest and my arms around them, almost moaning.

“So…,” Cornelius eventually sat on the stone near me, only his legs in the water. He had rolled up his pants and removed his boots. He thought for a moment, beginning to wash the cloth bandages. He seemed frustrated. “Ugh, I’m trying to think of something to talk about, something to make you more comfortable here.”

I nudged his leg, “You?”

“You… want to know about me?”

I nodded, curious.

“Well, uh, that makes sense. I guess…. Well, I joined the Rebellion when I was 17 ‒ I’m 31 now ‒ and began messing around with blast powder, and stuff like that; it’s this mixture that explodes when ignited.” He lightly chuckled. “It…. It could get messy sometimes. Accidental explosions are where I got half of my scars.” His laugh faded. He wrung out the wet bandages and set them aside to dry, and deeply sighed, “We’re so much smaller now than we used to be.” He looked at me, curiosity in his deep brown ‒ nearly black ‒ eyes, “How much do you know about the emperor? You know his name, right?”

“Bianor,” I mumbled, nodding.

“Bianor,” Cornelius slowly echoed. “That’s… actually a really pretty name, as much as I hate to admit that about such a horrible person. Is Emperor Bianor older or younger than me?”

“He’s… about your age, I think,” I softly said. I thought for a moment. He was nearly 18 when our parents had locked me away at age 13. Our parents. Our own parents had locked their child away in the deepest dungeons.

“Augustus?” Cornelius breathed. “What’s wrong?”

I hesitated, biting my lip. “My parents. They…. They did this to me.”

Cornelius stiffened, “Your parents… sold you? To the royal family?”

Not the full truth, but the truth I would have them believe for the time being.

Cornelius struggled to control his breathing, “How old were you?”

I moved closer to him. “...13.”

He sucked in a deep breath. He gently touched my shoulder. I shuddered, and he quickly pulled away, “I’m sorry. You probably don’t like people touching you after… all that happened.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re not like them.”

He hesitantly laid his hand on my shoulder, “Is…. Is this okay?”

I nodded, embracing his touch. His hand was surprisingly warm. I leaned on him, closing my eyes. His kicking legs occasionally brushed against my arm, shifting the water. The warm water.

“Why is the water warm?” I softly asked.

“The forge is below,” he explained. “The heat from the fires often warm the water just enough to be comfortable. Plus, caves have a natural temperature; it’s warm in the winter and cool in the summer.”

We were both silent for a long time. I sunk into the water, letting it soak my red curls. I occasionally glanced up at Cornelius. He seemed relaxed. There was a little scar under his eye, only visible where the light caught its bumpy edge.

I slowly reached up and touched it. Cornelius blinked, looking down at me. I ran my finger along the bumpy scar. It ran along the edge of his eye socket, curling around the outer edge like a crescent moon. I had never felt a scar before. I didn’t scar.

“Oh, th-that was from a battle,” he pulled away. “Got distracted, a soldier hit me pretty hard. Bastard nearly took out my eye.” He lightly chuckled, leaning back. “I took out his leg so I think we’re even.”

I stared at him. Then I softly asked, “...Have you ever killed someone?”

“...Yeah. Well, my explosions ‒ bombs ‒ have,” Cornelius sighed. He looked down at me, and I had to look away. “...Your clothes, they’re… covered with blood. From what I understand, you…. You’re a lust beast? You… devour people?”

I sank into the water, moving away from him.

“How many people have you killed, Augustus?”

I swallowed. “I….” Tears burned my eyes. “I lost count.” This was it. They were going to get rid of me. I was a murderer, a monster, and no sensible people would want such a creature around.

“How old were you?”

I blinked, glancing up at him with wet eyes.

“How old were you when you first killed? I was 22.”

I took a shaky breath, “I…. I was 16, I think, maybe.” I glanced up at Cornelius, suddenly feeling like a broken bucket, spilling out everywhere. “My purpose… was to sway people. The emperor would get me cleaned up, put me in a room with them, and I was meant to… convince them,” I curled up tighter under the water, suddenly hating that I was unclothed around him, even if he was unaffected. “A-and, if he wanted to get rid of someone… he… let me feed.”

After a tense moment that seemed to stretch for eternity, Cornelius let out a long, low sigh. “Augustus.” My muscles tensed against my will. I couldn’t look at him. “I promise you, nothing like that will ever happen to you again. Not while with us. We’ll protect you. I will protect you.”

Apparently that was all it took.

I leaned into his side, bawling my eyes out in a flood of pent-up emotions. He just sat there, hands gliding through my tangled curls with a gentleness I didn’t know how to deal with.