Mikyl is imprisoned in the dungeons of Kaladis, a castle standing uninhabited since the war. It was originally owned by a wealthy Human couple but was repurposed by the Elves to serve as their confinement system. They saw it as a historical structure worth preserving and using for their own purposes.
My heart races as I walk through the bustling streets of Kaladis, flanked by two stern-faced personal guards from Erhorn’s manor. Their weapons clink against their armor with each step, and I can feel the scrutiny of the common Elves as they watch us pass by. I try to appear confident, my hands swinging freely at my sides, but I can’t shake the feeling that they see me as the criminal about to be thrown into the dungeons of the imposing castle ahead.
The dank, musty air envelopes us as we make our descent below the castle. The walls, made of ancient stone, seem to loom over us like menacing giants. The stench of mildew and decay lingers in the air, making it difficult to breathe. The faint flicker of torches cast eerie shadows on the rough-hewn walls. Water drips steadily in the distance, echoing through the labyrinth of corridors. Chains rattle softly, a haunting reminder of the prisoners who once languished here. Each step forward is met with the crunch of gravel and the occasional scurrying of unseen creatures fleeing into the crevices of broken cement. The deeper we venture, the more the oppressive weight of the earth above makes itself known, as if the very ground is trying to reclaim this place of despair.
When the guards finally pause by the wrought-iron bars of a cell, I peer in and find that Mikyl is laying on a cot facing the wall. I nod to the guards, and they take a few steps away to provide me with privacy.
“Mikyl… it’s me…” I announce. Mikyl turns over and slowly sits up on the edge of his cot.
“What are you doing here? Haven’t you heard of what I’m being accused?” he proclaims as he hunches over, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso. His skin is pale, almost translucent, with a sheen of perspiration despite the cool temperature of the room. Dark circles hang heavily under his eyes, which are red-rimmed and unfocused .
“Of course I’ve heard, but I want to hear it from you. You wouldn’t tell me before. So, tell me now. Explain yourself,” I declare grasping the iron bars. Tears well up in my eyes at the sight of him. He stands up and strides over to those bars that separate us. A shiver runs through his body, a visible tremor that he tries to suppress with deep, uneven breaths. His hands twitch uncontrollably, portraying a nervous system in disarray. Erhorn was right. His body is repelling against the absence of the Auraroot that it has come to depend on.
“I didn’t kill that man, Rosanhi.”
“Why are you so ill? Will you at least tell me the truth about that?” I ask, even though I already know the answer, hoping he finds a way to be honest with me for once.
“It is true what you hear… I just couldn’t stop. I didn’t know—didn’t understand. I’m so sorry.” Tears leave his eyes and trickle down his grimy moist cheeks. His plea for forgiveness makes me weep.
“Did I—not make you happy? Was it my fault?”
He looks up and into my eyes. His hands reach for mine and he wraps his calloused palms over them, strongly replying, “No! This was of my own doing Rosanhi. Don’t you ever dare to think otherwise. You did nothing to deserve the way I have been treating you. I see that now.”
“You are to be taken to the capital tomorrow. There is to be a trial for the murder. They have witnesses Mikyl.”
“A witness to what though? I didn’t kill him. I found him… yes. I searched his pockets for money, and...” he pa uses before continuing, “and for Auraroot, but he was already dead!”
“I don’t know what to do to help you. You’ll plead your case to the King and pray to the God’s he shows mercy.”
I hate to sound so matter of fact; I want to show him more sympathy. I want to be a good and supportive wife. I just can’t right now. I’m furious with him! Not only has he ruined his own life, but I have been made to suffer along with him. He didn’t care—not until it was too late.
“Please tell me you will be there Rosanhi. Please. I cannot go through this alone.” His shoulders heave with each sob. Tears trace lines of regret down his cheeks. His voice is a broken whisper, each word laced with the weight of his remorse. “Please,” he pleads, the word barely audible.
“I’ll speak with Erhorn, but I cannot make any promises.”
The guards make their way back over towards me, “It’s time to go, Miss.”
“I have to go, Mikyl.”
He squeezes my hands with his for a few seconds longer.
“I love you, Rose. No matter what you might think of me now. I have always loved you… will always love you.”
He finally lets go and I take a step back, gazing at him one last time, uncertain if I will ever see him again. Instinctively I rush back, pressing my lips desperately against his between the bars, salty tears staining our final goodbye. I turn away and trudge out of the dank underground depths as my marriage crumbles into nothingness, leaving behind only that bittersweet kiss as a reminder of what once was and what could have been.
My feet drag me back to Erhorn’s mansion, my thoughts in chaos. Mikyl’s words echo through my mind, and I struggle to make sense of them. My head is a jumbled mess, and I can’t seem to sort through it all at once.
“Rose!” A high-pitched feminine voice calls out to me, and I turn to see Alyndra waving and running after me carrying a bag full of what I can only assume to be books. I stop and wait for her to catch up, greeting her with a melancholy voice—evidence I had been crying.
“Hi… what is all of that?” She can tell I’m not my normal chipper self.
“Ah… never mind these… I heard about Mikyl. I’m sorry.” She lowers her eyes in pity.
“Thanks… but I would rather not talk about it. So, tell me something else, what are you doing so far from the library?”
She senses my need for a subject change and quickly obliges.
“These are the books and scrolls I was pulling from the archives for Erhorn. They’re for the Fire Rites. Erhorn leaves for Eirina tomorrow… didn’t he tell you?”
“No, I guess he didn’t. Then again, I’ve been a little preoccupied this morning.” I reply, rolling my eyes .
“Yeah, well… it’ll be a nice little break for you and the girls. Light work detail while he is gone. Right?”
She places a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. I can only manage a nod as we approach the front steps to Erhorn’s mansion. Theo is sitting on one of the porch chairs, reading a book with his feet propped up on the railing.
“Ladies…” he remarks snidely lowering his head slightly. Alyndra sticks her tongue out at him. Before we can even reach the door, Lenna is pulling it open with a force of excitement.
“Guess what?!” She bellows. “We’re going to the Capital! Erhorn has asked us to go. He says he needs his servants. So, we’re going!”
Well, Mikyl will be happy.
Lenna’s excitement about the Capital city is a welcome distraction from my thoughts. All I can focus on is the possibility that this may be the last place I see my husband alive. After Lenna finally stops her enthusiastic jumping, we manage to pass through the doorway just as Erhorn steps out of his office and into the foyer.
“I take it Miss Lenna here has told you about our travel plans?” He says with a smirk. “We depart at dawn; you girls can have the rest of the day off to prepare for our leave.”
Lenna—still giddying on about the Capital—and Ava trot off to the kitchen for their coats.
I turn to Erhorn, “Thank you for this, Sir. I wasn’t sure how to ask… ”
Erhorn looks at me with a sneaky expression on his face. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about Rosanhi. Every Lord needs his servants when he travels…” he winks with a grin and turns to go back to his study, waving a hand in the air. “See you in the morning!”
I’ll never understand how that man seems to always know… everything.
“Need a lift?”
Theo is still sitting outside on the porch as I exit the mansion. I pause at the top step, my gaze sweeping over Kaladis.
You can see the castle of dungeons from here .
“Thanks, but I’ll take the scenic route home tonight,” I reply, my feet already carrying me down the cobblestone path towards the docks. I take a glance back at Theo. His eyebrows are arched and for a moment, he is the very picture of astonishment, his mouth agape as if words have escaped him. I can’t bring myself to care. I need solitude, a chance to sort through the mess in my head. It’s not right of me to be having these thoughts or feelings about Theo. I am a married woman. I love Mikyl.
Don’t I?