Crimson Guard (Completed)

Chapter 4

I slowly regained consciousness to a throbbing jaw that travelled up to my cheekbone and a low murmur of voices. Confusion swamped me as I listened to the grumbling, unrecognisable tones.

Where was I?

I started to open my eyes, bracing myself for a piercing light, but some internal instinct begged me to keep them shut. To listen.

"...she was found with coin and shielding charms from the Wildecrest household in a holster..." a distant voice rumbled in disapproval, too far away for me to hear all of the sentence.

A different voice filtered into my hearing, another masculine vibration. "...Wildecrest wants her imprisoned immediately..."

At the name, the past evening came roaring back to me. The heist, the unexpected appearance, being exposed, and my mad dash to find safety.

I cursed myself for getting caught, even though I shouldn't have since it was General Volorn who managed to trap me. As a highly trained soldier, as well as a Cerulean, I only had a meagre chance of escaping his eagle eye. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on my side today.

I strained to hear any more conversations between the unknown men, barely hearing the whispered words "...we have no choice..." before booted feet thumped on wood floor, trailing away from my prone state.

I blinked my eyes open, taking full view of my surroundings whilst it was safe to do so, but I stayed lying on my back in case the voices returned.

I was lying on a cot in a small compact room that barely seemed big enough to fit two people in. From my reclining vantage point, I could make out that the walls were painted a soft eggshell colour, which was worn and dirty after years of neglect.

A single small window lit up the room with the moonlight's beam. It illuminated a candle that rested on the windowsill, and its small burning flame flickered to a small breeze that the old window allowed to swish through minuscule space.

The room would have seemed old, uncared for, if it wasn't for the soft bed beneath me. The pristine white linens glowed like a fluorescent ghost in the candlelight, and the soft mattress was stuffed with wool rather than the usual straw I was used to.

A small scuff sounded beside me and I snapped my gaze towards it, finding movement within the shadowed corner.

A man lay sprawled in a chair beside the bed, his golden hair in disarray as though he had been sweeping his hand through it. A frown was etched into his face as if something greatly puzzled and frustrated him.

General Volorn, I realised with rising panic.

He was wearing the same clothes from the Wildecrest home, telling me not a lot of time had passed since our encounter, except now they were creased and rumpled.

I shifted my eyes as the door to the room swung open, revealing another form I vaguely recognised. It took me a moment to place him, but I soon identified him as the soldier with ocean blue eyes from the woman's home.

His leather armour seemed to mould to him like a second skin, showing off an impressive physique. He stood at over six feet tall, but he looked taller from my horizontal view. A single strand of black hair had fallen to the front of his face and he slowly lifted his hand, sleeking it back whilst watching his general with a troubled expression.

I waited for them to move, to call on the fact I was awake and in their custody. But they seemed to be musing over something, completely in their own world.

Finally, something in my favour.

Slowly, I started to move, darting a look to the door to judge how quickly I could try to escape. I had the element of surprise on my side; however, they had years of training on theirs. Even if I somehow managed to dive my way out of the room, I still didn't know where I was. It was a risk. But the alternative...