There was a rancid stench in the air, and Freidrich’s arms were covered in bile and blood. He was carving at the strand which attached the still-glowing orb to the head of the monster. The damned thing was far tougher than he had hoped. The strand itself had a soft and sinewy exterior, wrapped around a tough yet bendy bone-like core. The dagger dragged back and forth, sliding just millimeters deeper with each pass.
“You know what? Screw this. Garen! Hold this damned thing up for me!”
Garen blinked, seemingly surprised at the order. “Uh, alright sir.”
The wide-shouldered man looked strange in the blue light, and Freidrich could tell that he had learned his lesson as he refused to look directly at the orb as he grabbed the stalk and held it up.
“Stretch that thing taut.” Freidrich ordered, and the warrior obeyed.
Quickly cleaning off his dagger, he sheathed that in favour of his longsword, then he took a step back. “Everyone, keep your distance.”
He could hear the sound of boots splashing in puddles of beast-blood or scraping against stone all around him. As things had quieted down, he hefted his longsword and swung it at the stalk. It cut the thing clean in two, just like Freidrich had hoped.
“There we go!” he said as blood flowed out of the stalk as gravity did what the no longer pumping heart could not. “We have a light source.”
It wasn’t as luminous as a torch, but the light was far more steady, and Freidrich prayed that it’d last longer than the torch had. “Remember, no looking directly at the light.”
Muttered ‘aye’s could be heard from around him. He took the stalk from Garen and resumed their path through the endless underground.
Meli fell hard on the smooth stone floor. She tasted copper in her mouth, and her ears rang as Britza towered over her. Despite only being a year older, Britza was both faster and stronger than her. And she was always keen to let Meli know as much.
Meli had just started to push herself off the floor as her arm was yanked away, dragged up and behind her back as the older student locked her down with an iron grip.
“Ow! Ow!” Meli squealed, and she felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
“Enough. She is beaten.” The instructor’s voice interrupted Meli’s personal torment.
The grip was released, and Meli’s arm fell to the floor beside her. A large hand gripped her by the collar, and dragged her up onto her feet. “You’ve been here for two months, child. Either you are very slow to learn, or you enjoy punishment.” Nymh said, the older woman looking down at her as if she was looking at a poorly performing racing spider rather than a person.
“I don’t… I-it’s just-” Meli started, Nymh’s disdainful expression silencing her.
“Excuses. As a hand of Lilith, you need to be able to take down foes far stronger than yourself. Observe. Learn. Practice. Never make excuses. Excuses won’t save your life from a barbarian’s sword, or a noble’s dagger.”
“S-sorry.” Meli whimpered.
“Never say sorry. Only the weak beg for forgiveness. Shut up and learn.” Nymh’s grip on Meli released, and the woman returned to her seat.
“Again.”
Britza smiled, and was on Meli before she had managed to prepare herself.
She was beaten again.
Meli’s stomach growled. Her poor performance had lead to her being sent to sweep the floors rather than to join the others at dinner.
This wasn’t uncommon. Not by a longshot. She took solace knowing that she would be allowed to eat at breakfast.
She hated being here.
She hated these evil women. She didn’t want to become an assassin. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She just…
She wanted to not be hungry.
She was always so hungry.
Her stomach’s continued growling snapped her out of daydreaming of sweet rolls and fried mushrooms. Looking around her, the corridor was empty. Good. No one had seen her drift off.
She took a deep breath, and continued with her chore.
Sweeping this underground structure was a tedious job. There were four wings of the structure stretching out from the central temple. She was familiar with three of them, the fourth was only for those who had been admitted into the sisterhood.
She didn’t even want to know what happened to those that failed. It really was better just not thinking about it, and instead focus on not failing.
Yeah, that was a good idea.
Pushing the dust and dragged-in dirt before her, she proceeded through what at times felt like an endlessly crawling corridor.
First it snaked to the left, then it turned a sharp right for a little bit, and then it started snaking to the left again. She didn’t know why it was constructed like this. The temple was ancient. Not ever her parents-
She quickly dismissed that train of thought.
No.
Do not go there.
She stopped. Her stomach growled again. This time, her stomach hurt a little. She put her hand on the wall on her left, only to feel the cool brass of a doorknob meet her hand.
Turning to see, she could tell that somehow she had ended up in the eastern wing, the- the old wing.
She remember what the prisoner had told her.
A treasure in the old wing.
She could also remember the stories of the other girls. The other trainees.
Of why the old wing was disused.
It was haunted. Or at least that’s what they told her.
Ghosts of the trainees that failed. Or something. Each story was different, but she had no real wish to find out.
No, she didn’t really want to find out, as much as the treasure tempted her. She wasn’t brave. She would get punished for sure. She didn’t want to be punished again. The old woman would know she did something she wasn’t supposed to.
But what if the prisoner was telling the truth? What if she didn’t have the power to see everything?
It wasn’t worth the risk.
No, she’d just keep her nose down and she’d be fine.
No punishment tonight. And she’d get breakfast tomorrow.
She resumed her work, despite her protesting belly.
Then she stopped.
She could smell something.
She didn’t know what it was, it smelled a little like a freshly baked sweet roll, but not quite.
She sniffed the air.
It smelled delicious.
Her mouth watered. Her stomach screamed at her to find the delicious smell.
But where did it come from? She was on the other side of the temple from the kitchens and the dining hall.
She looked around.
The door to the east wing was ever so slightly open, and there was no doubt – that’s where the smell came from.
She hadn’t opened the door.
It had opened behind her. Everyone was supposed to be in the dining hall for dinner.
Her heart fluttered.
Ghost!
She stood still, staring at the door for what felt like hours.
No ghosts. No spooky noises. No movement. Just that heavenly scent.
She was so hungry.
She moved towards the door. Maybe it was one of the other girls playing a prank on her, using dessert from the dinner to bait her?
She cautiously opened the door, holding the broom as a makeshift weapon.
“H-hello?” she meeped, her voice almost failing her.
Nothing.
The old wing corridor was lit. The torches burning heartily. No ghost. But why were the torches lit?
Then she saw it. The source of the smell.
It was a pastry sitting in the middle of an impeccably clean floor.
She could see the steam rising from it. It had to be just removed from the oven.
She looked around. No pranksters. Still no ghosts. She took a step inside, keeping her grip on the broom firm. “Hello?” she said, a bit louder this time. Nothing. No response. Her stomach grumbled. Her mouth watered. The pastry was right there.
She hurried up to it, grabbing it from the ground and turned and ran out of the wing.
She closed the door behind her as she returned to the main corridor, panting slightly as she pushed her back to the door.
She studied the pastry, almost burning her fingers on it.
It was a deliciously browned sweetbread, somewhat amber in color, covered in what looked like brown powder and white flakes.
She broke off one of the flakes, carefully sniffing it, before putting it in her mouth. It melted deliciously. It was so sweet. She had never tasted anything like it, and her stomach roared for more.
She took a big bite. It was juicy, and just barely cool enough that she didn’t burn her mouth. A cascade of tastes like nothing she even had words to describe flowed into her mouth.
All too soon, the pastry was gone. She wasn’t full, but she didn’t feel like she was starving anymore.
Who had put something so delicious for her to find?
She stood away from the door, looking at it for a moment.
She had been inside, and nothing bad had happened. Maybe there was no ghost? Or maybe it was a nice ghost who was giving out pastries?
She turned the handle, and the door slid open again.
Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t hurt just to look for the treasure?
Lyssia sat doubled over the chamberpot, grateful that her captors would at least afford her that courtesy as she emptied her breakfast into the stinking thing. It wasn’t the first time since she arrived down here that she had issues keeping her food down. Pregnancy sure had some less than pleasant side effects.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been in this cell. It seemed like Drada was giving her food irregularly to throw off her attempt to use the food schedule to account for days. And she was always fed the same slop these days. Always a thick stew and water.
At least she didn’t go hungry as she waited for… something. An opportunity? That was unsure to ever arrive?
The cells were tightly guarded, and it seemed like Drada had made it her life’s mission to make Lyssia’s stay as unpleasant as possible.
Every few days, at least she assumed it was days, Lyssia was removed from the cell and forcefully washed.
Lyssia had been through that torturous excuse for hygiene three times now; and each time she was left bruised and her skin scratched from her jailer’s insensitive touch.
Worse yet, this last time had left her coughing. Lyssia hoped it was just a cold.
She pushed the chamberpot aside, feeling her forehead. She was slightly warm, but it was impossible to tell if she had a fever at this point. Her joints ached, but that might just be due to the bruising.
She ran her hand over her stomach, feeling it just slightly distended outwards. Thankfully, that was the only thing they, too, were gentle with. Her child. And for both of their sakes, she needed to get out of there.
She had tried to use the wooden splinter and her nails to get the lock open, but so far she’s just managed to tear a couple of nails with no progress.
She needed something sturdier to turn the lock as she used the splinter to push the springs into place. She needed metal.
She could hear the latch of the food slit pull open.
So soon?
It didn’t make any sense. No one usually came by for hours after breakfast.
“Hey…”
Ah. The child. “Hey there, Meli.”
“I, uh, I found the treasure…”
“My mirror?”
“Uhuh!” the girl sounded excited.
“That’s a good girl. It was where I hid it after all this time.”
“Yeah. I guess the old woman isn’t able to see us?”
“Not unless she’s actively looking, and I’d wager there’s a larger risk of the guards seeing you talking to me than she.”
“So… um…”
“You have questions?”
“Yeah.”
“Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere.”
There was a pause as her conversation partner seemed to consider what to ask. Lyssia was happy to have a break from the monotony of her stone box that didn’t include being tormented.
“So… is it true what they say? You lived up in the barbarian lands? You went savage?”
Lyssia found herself laughing.
“Yes, it’s true. I was sent up to the surface to kill a human. He saved me from a demon, and I fell in love with him.”
“Humans can kill demons?” The girl seemed genuinely surprised at this. Obviously she would be, Lyssia mused. No way she knows about Steel.
“Not all humans, but mine can. They have something called steel. Works even better than magic against demons.”
“So… um, how did they capture you?”
“The sisters? They infiltrated the city I was living in. Ambushed me in the middle of the night, when it was darkest.”
“Darkest… so it’s true?”
“Hm?”
“There’s a big burning orb floating in the air up there?”
“The sun, yes.” Lyssia smiled to herself. “At first it hurt, that’s how bright it was. But when I got used to it, I grew to love it. The sensation of the sun on my skin. The warm breeze. The cool shadow of a tree. The endless starry sky….”
“Um, what’s a tree? What is a starry sky?”
“A tree is like a giant mushroom on the surface, but instead of one big cap, it has there roots on the top side as well, with small things called leaves on them. And stars are diamonds that cover the sky when the sun isn’t out. You see, on the surface night and day are very different. There’s this thing called the sky, it’s like this ceiling of the surface, but there’s nothing there, just air, and during the day everything is bright, and the sun sails through the sky. And Stars are like glowing diamonds that you can’t see during the day because the sun is so bright, but at night they fill the sky from one side to another.”
“So where does- wait, someone’s coming.”
Lyssia could see that the mirror was pushed into her cell, and the feeding slit was closed behind it.
She scooted up to the door, leaning her ear towards it to hear what was going on outside.
“What are you doing?” Drada’s baritone was unmistakable.
“N-nothing mistress Drada, I’m j-just sweeping the floors.”
There was a moment of silence, before Lyssia could hear a grunt.
“So sweep. Get out of here.”
Lyssia could hear the pitter-patter of the girl’s feet disappearing down the corridor.
She put her hand down on the handle of the mirror.
It was a beautiful thing, the mirror itself as big as two of her palms next to one another, and the frame and handle was made with gold-plated brass, studded with fake gems.
It was beautiful, but nearly worthless. She remembered her disappointment when she had learned that. When she had snatched it, she had thought that the thing was solid gold and worth a fortune.
She looked into the mirror, and could see a reflection of herself.
Her head was covered with unevenly-shaved hair, with small locks still having a little bit of length to them, leaving her looking like a diseased wretch.
She threw the mirror to the side, and she immediately regretted it as she heard it clonk towards the ground and softly shatter.
She held her breath for a moment, listening to see if Drada had heard it impact the stone; but there was nothing. She sighed. But she had to get rid of the evidence, if not to avoid discovery, in order to avoid accidentally cutting herself.
As she turned to see the mirror, big triangular pieces lay on the ground beside it.
It lay face down, and there was more broken glass beneath it.
She put her fingers around the handle and lifted it up.
Clink.
It didn’t sound just like glass falling down, but also… metal?
She rooted through the broken glass and found…
A square piece of bronze. She kept looking, and found a small pick.
It was a lockpicking set.
She looked at the mirror, and could see the indents in the brass where the two had rested behind the glass.
She hadn’t put it there.
They had been there all along.
She had never noticed.
Lyssia smiled as she felt tears well up in the corners of her eyes.
She felt a rush of joy run through her body.
She could get out of here.
She could escape.
She looked at the now-empty mirror frame, and noticed a very tiny, very fine piece of writing on it.
I thought you could use this. Yours truly, B