The last thing she'd known was darkness.

The first thing she felt was heat.

This didn't feel like the summer of Braavos or the warm winds of Pentos. This was… different. The girl formerly known as Arya Stark opened her eyes to see where she was. In the dim light, all she saw was four stone walls and what appeared to be a thick locked door. With a dawning horror, Arya realized exactly where she was.

A prison cell.

She fumbled with her shaking hands for her Needle. Instead, she found what was presumably a chamber pot and a thin rag that she guessed was supposed to be a blanket. Arya sat back on her haunches in defeat, scanning the room for any improvised weapons or escape routes.

Nothing.

A sudden rap on the door made her jump, but she quickly tiptoed up to it, ready to make her presence known.