Cold, damp and dimly lit, they were thrown into cells a floor below the main hall of the royal court. Myra knew it, affectionately, as the kingdom’s capital hall of executions. Myra also knew the only person potentially getting killed would be her, but it made her fear for her friends no less.

Myra and Magnolia got to share each other’s company in the tight holding cell, while Dacien was being held just a few feet down the hall. Magna had already taken an elegant seat on the wooden bench against the wall, contrary to the way Myra looked through the bars. 

She was hopeful to spot any botanical material she could use to her advantage – it was looking very bleak. Stone walls, iron bars, wooden benches and simple lanterns left upon small tables in the corridor. Myra closed her eyes as she rest her forehead on the iron.

“Well, I see it finally a good time to finish what I was saying.” Magnolia huffed like the arrest, the entire day and night’s worth of travel, was merely an annoyance.

Myra turned her body to attention, gripping a bar in one hand behind her. They were icy cold and almost burnt to touch. It bizarrely brought the tiniest comfort, and Myra needed everything she could get.

“I know of a place that–”

“That can set me free, yes, you said that part. What does that mean?” Myra cut her off with a rushed, panicked voice that she tried her best to reel in. She knew it was rude; nevertheless, her mouth was open before she could think.

Magnolia raised her eyebrows, but allowed some understanding to fit between them. “It’s a tale. But I believe it wholeheartedly. There’s a place in the North that doesn’t listen to the seasons. It breaks the rules of the weather, and everything we know about life itself doesn’t apply. It’s pure magic. It can breed more. It can take it all away.”

Myra’s eyes grew wide as she listened keenly. Images of complete paradise floated over her eyes: from a sparkling brook defying light and gravity, to a forest of twisting trees spiralling around and around, a brand new galaxy twinkling under their canopies. 

Her hand fell from the bar, and she curled it up over her chest. Her heartbeat drummed underneath, beating to a melody of hope. But how could she ever get to that paradise? And what if it wasn’t real? Too harsh were the drum beats, pelting down against her chest.

The clack and shuddering of the main door opening up at the end of the dingy hallway didn’t move either woman. They shared the space they were stuck inside in quiet understanding. 

“Myra, dear,” Magnolia held her hand out. When Myra took it gently, Magna gave her a loving squeeze. Unsure that Myra had gotten the point of her story, Magna repeated, “It can take it all away. You could be free.”

They both neglected to look at the guard placing a plate of bread and two cups of water through the bars. He gave them a haughty, searching look, but they’d never know.

“But you said it’s a tale,” Myra carried on.

“It is. Not every tale is a fabrication. Heck, magic itself was just a tale some 20 years ago.”

Myra sighed and slouched onto the bench. Her eyes caught sight of the food left for them, and the back of the guard leaving Dacien’s cell down the hall. “How will that help us out of this situation?”

Magna pursed her lips, pressed her hands between her thighs to warm them up. “The king wants magic. I remember how fervently he searched for it when you were probably just a babe. But magic doesn’t… I believe magic has a mind of its own. It shows itself only when It wants to, and It really doesn’t seem to like the king.” She huffed a few dry laughs. “I don’t see why we couldn’t convince the king that you will find it.”

“Okay,” Myra looked to the floor, deep in thought. “Could I find it?”

“We can make them believe you can find it.” The smile Magna gave was mischievous and easy, as if she hadn’t insinuated something that would actually get her thrown into the dungeons.

Myra appreciated the confidence her old friend was casting upon her in great measure. She smiled back.

“You two probably aren’t hungry,” Dacien’s voice called from down the hall, a little muffled by the food he was swallowing down. “But this bread is so good?!”

Myra gave an almost haughty look of her own, feeling somehow sympathetic to the guards and the many strange people they’d probably faced down in those cells. Dacien was undoubtedly one of them.

“Good news, Day,” Myra called out. The quick hurl of a nickname froze Dacien mid-bite. Myra would, again, never know of the look on the man’s face. “We have a plan!”

He swallowed too early and had to wash it down with a gulp of water. Thankfully, no one was close enough to see him acting like a rabid animal: a fox finding its first meal in days, or a bear coming out of extended hibernation. He could simply shake this one off. “Fantastic! This- uh- does include me, doesn’t it? You two aren’t spooning your way out of your cell?”

“With what– obviously, with this steel spoon the guard left us with!” Myra yelled back with pulled brows. Magnolia held a hand over her laughing mouth. “Of course not!”

Dacien took a moment to reply. Myra liked the dread he was probably feeling. “‘Of course not’, about the spoon or about me coming with you two?” He carefully asked.

“Is that even a question? About you coming with us!”

“Ha, very funny.” Dacien said with a somewhat monotonous voice. Yes, he was sceptical…and scared – Dacien could count the number of times he had gotten into any sort of trouble on one finger! That's why he figured he was better safe than sorry, “I– I'll promise to stop joking about dating you! I'll try extra hard to understand you and be less…”

“Misogynistic? More aware of your social impacts, especially when surrounded by your friends? Dense?” Myra handed out to a crackle of joy beside her.

“Uuhh…..Yeah.” Dacien echoed down the halls to Myra's smile. “So, what's the plan?”

“We can speak more when they call us into court!”

“Really?!” He huffed, sounding remarkably defeated. “And I don’t think that’s how the court works! We don't get to talk and plan up there.”

Myra scoffed and moved closer to the bars. “Dacien, shut up! Eat your foolish bread and have a nap or something! We will talk later.” Her voice was final and bounced through the dim hallway.

“Foolish?” She could hear Dacien mutter and tut, but he didn’t send a reply hurling back.

She took a seat back on the wooden bench, holding the plate of bread. She offered some to Magnolia, silently. The woman’s laughter and cheery smiles were admittedly contagious, and that’s why Myra refused to look at her. Instead, she tried to keep a faux look of annoyance on her face while hiding the true feeling of fear almost stopping her from eating. Dacien had a good point, and Myra really didn't know what she'd be getting into.