In the dank gloom of Marius Honorius' dungeon only three people were left alive, though it looked and smelt as though there was no living thing other than the mad muttering priests at their alter. In a small hole in the side of the dungeon sat a small boy known as Lucan, though he was afraid he did not cry or scream for help. Across the room from him was another cell containing, what some would refer to her as, a woad called Guinevere, she too made no sound in the gloom of the dungeon. Yet there was another in that place, in the smallest cell in the corner of the room lay a young woman of 25 years of age, out of the three she had been an inhabitant of this place for the longest, as far as she knew around 3 months. Though she had never actually seen her comapions she had exchanged a few words between to find out their names. Her fingers were dislocated, and her body beaten, yet she had survived, and vowed that she would survive long enough to see the sky once again. As her companions she made no sound, but that was the only thing which she could claim a similarity, for she was no ordinary person, she had powers, dreams to tell the future, and power held within her own blood. Her name was Mya.

It had been three months since she had seen daylight, three months was all she could think of, what had happened to her home in that time, had her small field of crops survived, had her animals died or had Marius claimed then as his own when he had her dragged from her small cave and had her locked in the dungeon. She still retained hope than she would see that life again, where she was not tortured for hours on end by mad priests, where she had good food just outside her front door, where she could be free to do what she liked, when she liked. But with each day the hope that she had of seeing freedom failed, and she came closer to giving up.

There was a distant cry of pain, and Mya realised they must be torturing one of the other inmates. "Better them than me" she thought to herself, but a feeling of dread lay in her stomach, how long would it be before it was her turn, because there were not many of them left now the torturing came more frequent than before. She shivered from the cold, her rough woollen dress not protecting her from the cold any more than it protected her from the beatings. It had been so long since she had washed that she no longer noticed her own smell, or the dirt which encrusted her skin. The cry came again and she recognised that the cry was made by Guinevere, meaning that it was her turn next. She was unable to suppress the sob which came from her very heart then, she was so afraid, though she would never admit it, all she wanted was to be anywhere but in that dungeon, even being Marius's serf would be better than this she thought to herself, but only for a moment "No" screamed another, stronger voice from inside her, I will not be his serf EVER! He is no ruler or commander of me, I am free". She heard a soft whimpering and a scraping of metal on stone as Guinevere was returned to the cell, a quick shuffle of feet and a grubby brown robe with matching feet appeared at her cell.

"No, No, No, No, Please not again, please let me go, I did no wrong" Mya protested as the priest roughly grabbed her by her arms and dragged her forcefully out of her cell. Her turn in the wheel of torture that exsted between the three left alive.

"Not until you realise the error of your ways WITCH!" screamed the mad priest, as he dragged her to another dank stone room, full of metal instruments, and proceeded, despite her protests, to chain her to a stone bench, wrists and feet. "You must return on the path to God, you must die as an example Pagan"

"But I am not a pagan, I'm not, I'm not" answered Mya, knowing that this would not stop him as he proceeded to heat iron rods in a frie at the side of the room.

"whether you are a Pagan, or Wiccan, or Monkey you are not of God, You must be punished, you must learn from your mistake so that you can enter heaven" replied to priest, a sadistic smile etching across his face as he retrieved the red hot rod from the fire.

"Please No, I am on the right path, I do worship my own Gods, please Let me be, let me be." She cried before he trust the side of the rod on her wrists, the smell of burning flesh accompanied her terrified scream.

Hours later, or maybe days later, from what Mya could tell she lay back in her tiny cell, curled in a little ball to try and stop the pain in her stomach, caused from the lack of food. She had only consumed what Fulicina had been able to smuggle into the dungeon, which wasn't much as it was, but in the last two weeks the food had stoped completely, and now Mya had to rely on the filthy cup of water which they were allowed daily to fil the whole growing in here stomach. She had an inclination that the water was only given to them to ensure that they lived to die from starvation rather than out of an act of kindness from the priests. She was crying silently to herself, her pain was so great now, her body ached and her legs were cramped, she longed to be able to walk or run even if just for a moment. She lay like that for days, the priests muttering to their icons in the background before eventually she must have drifted into sleep.

BANG, BANG, BANG, Mya was awoken by the sound of crashing brinks and metal, for a moment she thought that someone had come to rescue her, but the feeling of dread inside of her prevented getting her hope up too high. Yet, soon she saw a shaft of light come towards her, the sound of people clambering down the stone steps. In her state she could barely grasp what was said in a conversation at the entrance to the room, but from the tone it sounded much like an argument. Suddenly she hard the clanging of metal against metal, and her hope and some strength returned to her, they were being rescued. She prepared herself for them to come to her, but after a minute she could not hear any more cells being opened. "My cell is to far away for them to see" she desperately thought, but she heard at least one person left in there. With the newfound strength she brought the chains on her wrists to the bars of her cell and knocked the two together.

At the other end of the dungeon Tristan heard the sound ofclinking metal; he immediately swung his sword at the priests throat.

"Is there anyone else?" he growled, and the priest could only shudder under his intense gaze and point to the far end of the dungeon. Swiftly he made his way to the far end of the dungeon and spotted one last unopened cell. He crouched down and what h saw made him gasp for breath. Inside what a battered and beaten young woman, but there she was summoning up her strength her eyes showing an inner passion, but still retaining a slightly hunted look. He took his sword and broke open the cell, he held out his hand but she did not take it. Mya had decided that she should not immediately trust these men, she recognised them as Samation knights, men of great skill, and little morals or so she had heard. She crawled out of the cell and using most of her strength stood infront of the man.

"Do you want no help, you are weak" he asked in a sympathetic voice, she smiled slightly but answered:

"No thank you" in her hoarce voice "I wish to walk on my own" and with that he accompanied her out of the dungeon and let her use him as a support as she made her way up the stairs.