A Tale Of Crowns And Swords

A light in the darkness

Hestia

The darkness enwrapped her completely. There had only been a few moments, when she had seen light in the last years. At times, one of the Flamespeakers has entered her cell with a lit up torch, but there had never been more than a dim light. The darkness has accompanied her for too long now, so she had given up her hope to ever escape the cell long ago. She had faced the thought, that she would meet her end in the darkness. Only the wish, that her time there wouldn't be too long remained to her. To open her eyes or to even speak a word was a pure waste of her already low energy.

Suddenly, she felt something. A touch on her cheek, softer than the first wind on a spring morning, yet she knew, that something was there. She sensed it's presence, so different than the one of the Flamespeakers or Edith. As if some was only partially present. An aura, no, more like glance, that was shot at her, but as if there were eyes without a body. At least not a physical body. Not really present, but it wasn't really absent either.

Gradually and with much more effort than it should be necessary, she opened her eyes. It teased her too much, even lured her, to see this being, that had touched her. If it would even show itself. She wasn't entirely sure about that. Most likely it would vanish right when she would open her eyes. Maybe it would attack her? Had it made her agony and indifference to its advantage, only to make her its prey? Would that be the last ritual of the Flamespeakers? And if that would be the case? She would end up as the prey of this monster. She would end. Torn into tiny pieces and devoured in it's stomach, but she would end. The darkness would vanish and she could escape this miserable place. Now she wanted to open her eyes, in the hope, that she would finally meet her end.

Green eyes. Inhuman green. Eyes of a monster. It would be her end, certainly. There was a faint smile on her face. She smiled at those strange, green eyes. Like emeralds, they shined in the darkness. They were almost inviting. As if a hand would appear in the next moment and would guide her to another place. Seductively the darkness covered her and touched her cheek anew. Soft, like a light breeze, a shadow that placed itself upon her, yet she could feel it. This would be her end and she would meet it with a smile on her face.

The door of her cell swung open and the light of a torch lightened up the small and oppressive room. Die emerald green eyes of the stranger vanished as suddenly as they had appeared. Like a shadow, that was driven away from the light. Her eyes closed anew, blinded by the light, that now infiltrated her cell. She had lost all feeling of time an eternity ago and couldn't tell wether it was morning, noon or night outside the dark room. The only routines she knew in her cell were Edith, Micheal and the rituals of the Flamespeakers. Yet, if they came to her regularly, was beyond her knowledge. She only knew the order of their appearing.

Edith was by far her favorite part of the routine. She didn't know many faces. Either she simply forgot them or didn't want to memorize them. Yet Edith. Edith was the best face she knew. She had blonde, shoulder long hair, blue eyes and a clear voice. While the Flamespeakers often only mumbled und consciously spoke illegibly, Edith spoke as she wanted to. Often she was vulgar and cursed at the Flamespeakers, Micheal and mostly her brother, yet it was obvious, that she was speaking the truth. Exactly that could only rarely be said about the Flamespeakers and Micheal.

When Edith didn't curse at a person, she often cursed about her leg. Though she wasn't really cursing her leg, but more the fact, that is wasn't existent. Edith had told her, that the Lightbringer must have had a grudge against her family and that was why she was born with one leg less. It was just another reason for her to curse at her uncle and brother. Edith's father had been able to smith her a substitute, yet it would never be able to replace a real leg. Her father was pretty much the only person, that she didn't wish to rot in hell. Her father and the prisoner, that she apparently cared enough for to visit.

Edith was intelligent, at least she was able to read. She had even taught it herself to a bigger part. Edith spoke about the world outside often. About what they would have to do, if she would get out of her cell one day. However, those talks mostly ended with an awkward silence. They knew, that those dreams would likely never come true.

Still, she would never want to give Edith away. Not only because she was the only thing, that kept her going, but because it had been Edith, who gave her her name. Hestia. The name of a Lady of Fire out of one of Edith's books. Hestia couldn't even remember her own name. She didn't even knew, if she had ever had one. She couldn't remember and didn't want to anymore either. Whatever brought her to this place, deserved to be just as cursed as Edith's brother and her uncle.

If it wasn't Edith, who killed Hestia's time in the dark room, it often was Micheal, Edith's cursed uncle. Micheal was and elderly man with a bald head and wrinkly skin. The only thing, that gave away his kinship to Edith, were the same blue eyes. Different to his niece, Michael spoke formally. At least Hestia thought of him as more educated and wiser than the other Flamespeakers. Yet, she couldn't tell whether Edith, who only counted nineteen years, or Micheal, with a lot more life experiences, was the more intelligent one. Both had their own kind of wit and knew how to make use of it. Though , Hestia preferred Edith's way.

When it was Micheal, who dared to come into her cell, was that often shortly after Edith had left. Between them, the conversations had more structure. Micheal always brought a book with him, sometimes even two, and had taught Hestia how to read over the years of her imprisonment. In the beginning, she didn't know what to do with this skill. Reading was for the nobility and not the peasantry. In addition to that came her perspective, on never being able to have use of being able to read in the world outside. Yet after a while, she had been able to find peace with the thought, that reading would be her window to the work outside. It became her second favorite method to kill time, right after the talks with Edith. Though there wasn't much of a choice.

Micheal only spoke about what she had read. He asked, what the pages contained and what she would think about it. Her answer had always been the same. She would never be confronted with the world outside anyway. Micheal always nodded then and left her in the dark room.

The last of the three options was the worst. Worse than the isolation in the dark room. Worse than her hopelessness in her cell. She had developed a hatred for the Flamespeakers in the past few years. They wore red robes with a badge replicating a flame. The Flamespeakers faces changed often. No one stayed longer than two or three rituals, which is why Hestia gave up the effort to remember their faces or even their names.

Gradually, her eyes got used to the bright light of the torch and she didn't have to blink constantly. First she could recognise a silhouette. It was the one of a man. Micheal? Edith hadn't been there first and usually Micheal came to Hestia after her. Hestia looked up a little higher to see the face of this man, yet that wasn't possible. He wore a mask of black fabric, which only left a gab for the eyes. Dark brown eyes. They stared at Hestia coldly.
"It's time.", he said and on some days, Hestia would wish herself back to the dark room with the emerald green eyes.