ATLANTION - LAYLA BOOK1

Part 30 Layla

Layla retreated to her old position, trembling as she covered herself with her shabby nightgown. Another growl echoed in the darkness, sending chills down her spine. She strained her eyes but could not see anything in the pitch-black cell, not even the wall at the end. Time crept by slowly, like an old snail, and life seemed to melt away like an old wax candle. Her feet felt wooden, the rock sapping the warmth out of them.

Death seemed inevitable as she stood there, barefoot, shivering in her thin nightgown. But as her stomach growled, the sound louder than the nearby beast, she laughed with tears in her eyes. Death by starvation could be another option. The hunger pangs were carving her belly, and Layla's mind wandered to warm, soft bread, like the one Ella would bake. Salty tears ran down her cheeks, and she tasted the salt on her lips.

She hit her belly, trying to silence the growling noise. If the creature lurking in the darkness heard her, she might become its dinner. Suddenly, a rusty giggle tinkled at her back, and an older woman's voice whispered, "Aww. You must be starving."

Layla turned to face the woman and replied, "Yes, lady, I am famished." She could barely make out the woman's features in the darkness, but her eyes were huge and brown, like they were made of raw clay.

The woman giggled again, with a soft blend of madness, and said, "Have mercy on me and talk louder; I am ancient and barely can hear anything."

Layla hesitated, afraid to draw the beast's attention. But the woman assured her that there was a thick magical wall between the cells, so she needn't worry.

Summoning all her courage, Layla stepped forward, stretching her right arm to feel for any obstacles. The cell was more extensive than she had thought, and her forehead throbbed as she collided with the back wall. The woman in the neighboring cell asked if she was okay and assured her that her eyes would adjust to the darkness.

"This place is bare stone, not even a cot to lay my aching bones," Layla grumbled.

"Ah, that sounds good," the woman said cheerfully, clapping her hands.

Layla was taken aback. "How is that good? I am freezing in here."

"It means they don't intend to keep you long," the woman explained. "The longer they keep you, the more attributes your cell has. They pick the young and strong for their games. It's better to win the battle or die than to rot in here."

Layla pondered her words. What would happen to her? Would there be a trial or would they throw her into the arena with a troll? She resolved to fight and leave her mark on them, even if it meant biting a chunk of their faces.

As the woman hummed a beautiful tune, Layla crouched closer to the bars to listen. The song was about endless forests, green trees, hummingbirds, and sunny summer days. The lyrics spoke of love, dreams, and passion, of reckless hearts boiling with wonder. Layla felt a spark of hope in the dark and terrible place, something that kept her warm and alive.

"How did someone like you end up here?" Layla asked the woman, rubbing her numb toes.

"When I was young and full of hope, I tempted fate to give me more," the woman replied. "But sometimes, fate is cruel enough to give us what we wish for. People are like carts; if they are not strong enough to carry all the power they collect, they break. 

Layla felt the overwhelming urge to scream in despair, but as she looked at the warm golden glow around her, she felt a sense of surrender.

She still smelled Farrar's sweat and blood on her hand, tears streaming down her cheeks as she wondered if he too was huddling somewhere in the darkness with her.