Fools, these Mortals

Viola Chapter Fifteen

The constant water droplets splashing against the cold stones barely interrupted my sleep. Thick, heavy snores did. Coming from the other occupied cell. I positioned myself closer to the steel bars to get a better look at my fellow inmate. They must be pressed tightly against their own cell wall, as I couldn't see them or their shadow.

Throughout the night, I frequently argued with myself to loosen my chest bindings. The squeezing of my lungs was unrelenting with each breath. Eventually my breathing became too laboured and painful to resist brief freedom for one night. Feeling into my shirt, I untied the slim knot and unravelled the bindings. Air assaulted my trapped ribs, as they expanded from the new extra room in my body. I didn't need to see my skin to know there was bruising along my ribs. I couldn't keep this charade for much longer. Blood taken. No food. Lost a fight to a vampire. Injured, the twinge in my leg reminded me. Now breathing became more tortuous by the hour. Reuniting with Seb would make all these trails worth it. If it weren't for the bindings pressing against my chest, my heart would have broken in two long ago. As the dungeons were underground, no sunlight streamed through to reveal this forgotten pit. My stomach kept track of time, in a sense. Grumbling every few minutes in the quiet cell, snores of my fellow inmate stopped.

"Will you shut up that racket," a deep, raspy voice hissed from the darkness.

I coughed to clear my tight, dry throat. "Sorry." Knowing there was nothing I could do about my empty stomach.

Unexpectedly, the main dungeon door opened. A creak echoed before it was gently closed. Soft footsteps walked further into the dank hallway, along with torch light. Amber flames warned me of their approach, giving me enough time to tie the bindings back into place. My chest ached from the treatment, but it had to be done. Choosing between my status of boy or girl, there was no competition in this castle. With fast hands, the bindings were back into place, my worn shirt and torn jerkin secured once more. Nothing would persuade me from revealing myself. I managed to turn my head to the right to find Ophelia sitting at my cell's bars; worry plagued her tired blue eyes.

"Ophelia? What are you doing here?" I said, though it came out as more of a whisper. Daring to come closer, I crawled to her, forgetting the harsh stone against my knobby knees.

"I thought you could do with a drink. Prisoners are fed at this time, if there is food." With her slim arm's help, I was sat right with my back being sported by a grimy cell wall. Ophelia lifted a water skin from the floor and to my mouth; cool liquid trickled into my system.

"Thank you." The water had oiled my rusty tongue as it trickled down my gullet to a ravenous stomach.

"How did you get here?" Ophelia asked, curiosity entering into her eyes. "Rumours have already spread about you, especially after your fight in the Pits." Ophelia gave me a shy half smile.

I took a sharp breath to steady my nerves at the memory of Tommick's fangs so close to my skin. "It's not in my nature to sit back and accept my fate, decided by others." I shook my head at the absurdity.

Ophelia's words drifted to silence. "I wish I could say the same. Father is only protective of me, I'm sorry."

"At least fate has a sense of humour." I had to find humour somewhere in my predicament. "Don't apologise for other's actions, Ophelia." I stared into her lake blue eyes to enforce my point. "Especially a father's actions."

"I just want peace." Ophelia sighed, scratching through her gloved hands. "You've made quite an impression on everyone."

"I promise you: I have no intentions to jeopardize your position. If I was free to leave the castle, I wouldn't be here." My body shook with the need to escape, to make ground in some physical sense that I was making progress in this backward world.