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Chapter 3: The Marquis's Prison

For Idesin

By Draconicon

The prisons were everything that she had been told they would be, and everything miserable that could come from life. Lucia leaned against the back wall of her cell, her eyes closed, her ears twitching from side to side as she built a picture of it in her head.

The soft creaks and grinds of metal, the doors of other cells opening and closing. Yammering words, angry, sad, drunk, resigned. All sounds of people who were not where they belonged, who knew that they were out of place. Heavy bootsteps, thick and hard with authority that went too-long unquestioned. Clinking metal on metal, weapons tapping bars to get the attention of others.

More than the quality, the sounds built a map for her. Two lines of cells, and a bend in the hallway to her right where the cells went on for a hundred feet more, though after that it was hard to tell. Her ears twitched left and right, counting the creaks, the groans, the steps. Nine cells on her right, ten on her left. Twenty cells on the opposite side of the hall. A door with a creak in the bottom hinge that led to the rest of the castle.

She could 'hear' it all, and see it in her mind. Which was good, as she could not see it with her eyes.

Lucia the bat opened her eyes again, seeing no difference in the darkness of the world, save one. Here and there, among the cells that were occupied, she could see...light. Glimmers, mostly, little more than a flicker the strength of a candle that was diluted and spread over the body of a two-legger, but against the darkness that they were set against, bright enough to notice.

Colors aplenty, there were, though in here, it was mostly various shades of red. From dark crimson to a color just below the darkest orange, they were, though she had little idea what it meant.

Learn it well, Lucia, the old woman said. Learn it well. Well, I tried to learn it, but you would not teach, she thought. The bat shifted in her cell, looking down at herself. Not red, but blue, though with a tint of pink here and there. Would love to know what that's about...

Not that it would help her here. Lucia slowly stood up, keeping her back to the wall for balance until she was sure that she wasn't going to fall over. She looked to her right, listening for any sound of a cell mate to that side. No sounds came, and nor did any light of a living being. The bat placed her hand on the bars, feeling her way around until she got one, and rode it towards the far end of her cell.

The door was locked tight, and unlike her older sister, she didn't have the skill to pick it, even if she had been given the tools by now. Instead, the bat knelt down by the door in a squat, her eyes downcast as she waited. She knew the routine; there was always an accomodation to make, either with the guards, or - if one was lucky - with the lord of the land himself.

She waited for an hour before anyone came to her, and she saw the auras first. She was surprised, considering the difference in them. The bigger one - or who she assumed was bigger, from the thicker limbs of light - was a faint, vaguely pink and gold color. She'd seen that one before, learned it. Loving enough, but not firm enough to be as effective as they might be, with the power of gold.

The other, though...

Lucia had to fight not to look away. Auras, in her experience, ranged from those that could be blown out by a wind, and those that stood like a bonfire. This...this was one of the latter. A roaring, purple bonfire that threatened to break the bounds of the silhouette that contained it. She had never seen one of that purity of color, not when it had reached this strength. And not contained in something small, either; such things normally came from age, experience, journeys, discipline, or any number of other things.

She felt...sorry, in a way. Whatever had happened to this boy to give him this could not have been worth it.

The bigger shape cleared its throat, and she turned her head to him. At least he didn't burn her to look at.

"What?"

"I apologize for your treatment at the hands of my men. They...weren't supposed to leave you like this."

The bat could hardly complain. They had left her with her smallclothes, her undergarments. It was better than what the guards of the southern lands had done, when they had imprisoned her entire family by 'mistake'. Lucia shrugged.

"It could be worse."

"You were caught stealing, however."

She didn't say anything. The lord was silent for a moment, then nudged the smaller shape.

"Um...you...he means you were caught...in the act of snathi."

Her eyebrows went up at the sound of her own language, and she pulled herself slowly in front of the purple fires of this younger one.

"How? How do you speak -"

"He's acting as my interpreter," the lord said, and she turned to glare at him. Ineffectually, perhaps, as she couldn't see his eyes, but she managed his general direction.

"I did not commit snathi. I was given an item by a wisper in the church."

"Bastian? What does that mean?"

She looked at the purple flames in boy form, and wondered. Could he truly understand her? How was such a thing possible? Her folk taught their language to no one, and avoided those that tried to study it.

She saw the smaller shape hesitate, a blurry semblance of hand pressed to his chin. The bigger shape turned.

"Bastian?"

"She...she said a fae was in the church, father."

Father? The bat's ears flicked back and forth, her mind racing. She'd heard rumors that there were those blessed in this land with a gift of understanding, and that the local lord's son was one such. Was that the case? Could he understand everything? She looked at him, curiously, and whispered in her language.

"You are blinding me..."

"But...But you're already blind...aren't you?"

He understands...he can hear what I say...

The idea terrified her. Such magic, such power was beyond the wizards and the shamans of the south and east. This was a power only granted by those much, much higher in the world, and her pity for the boy turned to fear. Fear for her, and for him, with an ability like that...

She was not given time to dwell on it. The bigger shape reached for her, taking her by the shoulder and forcing her to look at him.

"There are no fae in the church. I ask that you tell me the truth."

"I already do, lord of men. I was given something by what you call a fae."

"You are lying to me. You stole from my church, and you were recovered with the stolen object. This is -"

"Why would I lie?"

"The same reason most do. To avoid trouble."

Lucia shook her head, slowly sliding her way over to him. She looked up at the lord, her head vaguely around the waist height as she looked through the bars.

"There's no language I can say this in that your son won't hear...but if I wanted to avoid trouble...there are better ways to avoid it than lying."

"F-father? What...what does she mean?"

The pink and gold shifted slightly, darkening to a sort of red. The bat smiled slightly, reaching through the gap in the bars to grab the bigger shape by his leg. She could feel something, not much, but something, above her hand as she kept talking.

"I would say you have a choice, lord of men. Investigate your own church...or let me offer something more clearly."

"It would gain you nothing."

"It would ease the quiet."

"..."

She let go of him, seeing the peculiar shade of red that always meant humiliation streak through his pink form. It was a shade that she was more than used to seeing. Most of the people her folk spoke to had that shade, either after visiting the caravans after dark or being treated to the card skills of the wandering folk. They couldn't stand the fact that they lost, or that they had indulged, and had to erase the memory.

The bigger shape shook his head, turning from the cell. In short order, he had the boy dragged along with him, and she watched as they made their way to the far end of the hallway. The bat slowly shook her head as the light of the small shape eclipsed everything else in her vision, burning too hot and bright to let her see anything else, like a bonfire would eclipse the light of fireflies.

She looked away.

He will be in pain, in the future, she thought. The bright fires were not a guarantee of greatness, but only a measure of...something. She hadn't figured it out yet, but the brighter one was, the greater the sum of the something was. Experience, discipline, power, capability; all of them added together, but what the final combination was, she had yet to name.

They disappeared, and she was left alone in the jail again. A whistle from a side cell caught her attention, and she turned. Another prisoner, a deeper red...another color she knew all too well, since her blinding.

"You want to make me that offer, girl?"

"You have nothing to offer me."

She rolled over, and pulled the blanket that she'd been given over her head. She knew what she was worth, and she knew that the prisoner couldn't afford it.

#

Lucia woke some hours later, and sat up with her back against the wall. The sounds of night had come to the cells. Not of the sky and the creatures of the night, but of the softer sounds. Deep breathing, the sound of sleeping men and women. The emptiness of no movement. The stillness of the air. Everything combined to make the sound of darkness.

The bat sat with her legs crossed, thinking back to her time in the Church of Four Hearts. She was told it was named for the four corners of the heart, for love, passion, fidelity, and faith. She had no idea if that was true, but she remembered what was in it.

Hidden as an altar boy, a young man that had spoken with her in the old language had taken up her day. He'd told her of the treasure that the church had hidden, and had showed it to her as well. A small thing, but one that glowed with a white light that she had only seen in the purest of things. White light, streaked with green. Once more, without explanation, but with the same hue as things that had belonged to the old gods.

He'd begged her to take it, and she had. She'd run, guided on by...by...

Lucia leaned her head down, feeling the water on her cheeks and wiping it away.

It wasn't sight. Just colors...but what colors they were.

Auras came only from people, but with the artifact in hand, she had seen shapes. She had seen buildings. She had seen things that she hadn't seen since she was a little girl, since she was barely walking. It was nothing but a pale imitation, but so long...

And now, it was gone. And she was in prison for it.

I did not commit snathi. But knowing what it is... She admitted, she would commit it now. Knowing what it did, what it would give her, she would take it in a heartbeat.

The sound of darkness was disturbed by a soft click. Barely enough to break it, but enough for her ears to pick up. Her left ear rotated, taking in the sound of the door opening, and the sound of footsteps. One? No, two people. She turned.

The blaze of purple light was there again, and almost too soft to see, so was the pink and gold from before. They had returned.

She felt her way to the front of the cell, still squatting as she had been before, and looked up at the bigger shape. Lucia forced a small smile.

"Did you look?"

"...Yes."

"You didn't find anything."

"No."

"But..."

She looked at the smaller shape, his fire. No change to it, no sign to what he was. Pure purple, pure power, pure whatever the greatness was...

"Your son did."

"He...claims to have done."

"I...I did find something, father. T-they did speak in...in another tongue. In the -"

"The old tongue."

Lucia felt their eyes on her more than saw them. She shook her head.

"He will be gone by morning. He will know that you know."

"Why? It would only blow his cover, if he was hiding here." The lord sniffed. "I doubt you -"

"He did what he could. And I will be proven right, when he isn't here by morning. Watch him, if you will. He'll disappear as all wispers do when they are found. And then, when I'm proven right...what will happen to me?"

"..."

"What will happen to me, lord of men, when you know my story is true, and your treasure is as fine as ever?"

"That...isn't entirely correct."

Lucia blinked, the lord continuing.

"Your touch seems to have unhallowed it. It is no longer blessed."

The bat didn't know if she was crying or not, but she felt she was, at the loss of such a treasure.

The End