Ashes by Stelmarta
Boy, it has been a while. Sorry about that, folks, it has been a very busy three weeks. But I swear that the next one will be here next Saturday, you have my word as an esca otaku.
This chapter is dedicated to RAD, who was my very first reviewer *ever*.
Yeah, this one's kinda short, but longer things are to come.
Enjoy! Oh, and review!
PART X – The Dungeon
Laesha opened her eyes very slowly. It felt as if someone had taken out all her bones, whacked them around a bit and then put them back in the all the wrong places. She was in a dark cell, with stained and mildew pocked stone walls, a thick wooden door and a single small barred window.
"Where am I?" she asked to no one in particular, groaning and closing her eyes again.
To her surprise, she got an answer; "In the dungeon of the Temple of Dust. You were unconscious for most of the trip over," It was Owl speaking; apparently their captors didn't consider them important enough to be separated.
"Was I?" she mumbled, "Oh. What happened to Crow?"
She didn't get an answer to this. She glanced at Owl; he was glaring fiercely at a particularly moldy spot on the wall. She half expected it to burst into flames.
"Owl," she said as she sat up, fed up with his sulking, "Get over it, whatever happened won't go away if you ignore me."
He turned his glare at her, "Crow betrayed us."
"Lying doesn't make it go away either,"
He reddened in anger, and a little voice told Laesha that she shouldn't have brought it up.
"I am not lying," he spat out, "Remember all that 'outrunning destiny' crap she was talking about and the legend of Ashes?"
"Yeah, Ashes, some poor chick who has to live with Dust and dies a lot."
"Laesha, would you just shut up and listen?"
She did. Something was telling her that she shouldn't annoy Owl when he was in this mood.
"And do you remember what the Forsaken called her?" he said with a little sigh of exasperation.
"What Forsaken? We fought a Forsaken? And we're still alive!"
"Laesha!" he growled, at the end of his badly frayed patience, "Crow IS Ashes."
She felt the bottom of her stomach drop out, "What?" she gasped.
"The eclipse is in seven days. She'll be sacrificed and all the other prisoners, including us, will follow shortly after her." Owl again concentrated on the moldy spot on the wall.
"But—she never said anything," Laesha was still having a bit of trouble grasping this news. It did make sense, now that she thought about it, the secrets, evasions, and why Cayn was holding her in the first place. But…Crow? Ashes?
"And now we're going to die because of it," said Owl with a nasty edge to his voice, "It's all her fault."
Laesha's eyes flashed from hazel to chartreuse and she stood up, furious and impatient with Owl's sulking, "Would you god-damned get over it! It's not her fault that she was born; it's not her fault that we're here now. And it's not her fault that your family's dead. When the gods get involved, you can't blame mortals. When will you realize that?"
He turned towards her; angry lines etched into his white face, but didn't say anything.
~*~
Not another word was spoken until their dinners (some thin glop masquerading as stew, and black bread) came. Laesha had spent the time dozing; she was still exhausted for some reason. Owl had fumed and brooded so fixedly that she was starting to feel guilty about attacking him like she had.
The door opened, and a guard carrying two battered tin plates entered the cell. He placed their dinner on the ground, for them to pick up themselves.
"So, you kids having fun yet?" he joked, rather tactlessly. He was perhaps twenty-five, with tousled blond hair and white teeth displayed through his broad smile. To Laesha's eyes he looked far too good-natured to be a member of a death cult.
"Okay, fine," he said in gracious indignation, "I was just trying to lighten the mood, no need to get so icy on me," Owl's fists were clenched, and he was glaring at him. The guard raised an eyebrow at this, and then looked to Laesha, "Is he always like this?"
She blinked at him; she was too confused at his behavior to respond. "Jeez, you guys are talkative. I just figured that I should get to know my guardees; I'm not going to kill you or anything. It just gets awfully lonely on these long guard shifts, and I figured that it's worse in a cell and that we would both appreciate the company," he said this all very fast, "Whoa," he was staring at Laesha's face, "Your eyes just changed color!"
"Uh, yeah," she said weakly.
He beamed so widely she thought his face would collapse, "Good, now that words have been exchanged, I'm Rhys." He leant down and extended his hand to her to shake. She took it rather cautiously.
"I'm, uh, Laesha, and that's Owl," she couldn't help but trust him; he wore amiability like perfume
"I'm not going to try shake his hand," he added in an undertone nodding slightly in Owl's direction, "because he might yank it off," he waggled his eyebrows. Laesha smiled back.
"Well, I gotta go," he said, straightening up and heading for the door, "If there's anything you need, just shout. I can't guarantee you'll get anything, but at least you'll have a sympathetic ear. It's been lovely meeting you two, and I'll see you at breakfast!"
Rhys flashed one last blinding smile at them and left.
After a long moment, Owl got his food and sat back in his corner, "So, gone over to the enemy already?" he asked her acidly.
"Well considering that you're my only other option for company, and you're being a snotty bastard, I have absolutely no problem with chatting with 'the enemy'". Laesha got her plate and sat down. She began attacking her food with a singular focus, almost, but not quite oblivious to Owl's expression, which fell somewhere in between angry and hurt. But she did see it, and it made her feel terribly guilty. And on top of that, an idea was niggling her.
Finally she couldn't take it anymore, "Look, Owl, I'm sorry to be so harsh, but you know it's true. So stop with the sad puppy look. Sulking won't help us get out of here,"
"Get out of here? Have you finally cracked?" he asked, bewildered. At least he wasn't sulking.
"Well," she began blandly, "I thought that you wouldn't want to die here in misery, at the hands of your enemy, in such a dishonorable and painful way…but maybe I shouldn't have assumed," she was really laying it on, but he was listening now.
He narrowed his eyes, "What are you talking about?"
"Well, I was thinking we could escape in some way –"
"Are you sure you're alright? I think you need some more rest," he said with a hint of mockery in his voice.
"Oh, shut up, Owl. I'm serious,"
"Well, that's great, but do you have some sort of plan or is this all idle speculation?" he was definitely mocking her now, a faint smile played along his lips. Laesha decided that being teased was worth it if this worked.
"Not a plan as such, but I'm getting there," she said, "I was thinking we could get the other prisoners involved,"
"How? We're separated by locked doors and stone walls, it would be kind of hard to communicate," he said skeptically.
"Well, that's where Rhys comes in,"
"Okay, that settles it," he threw his hands up in exasperation, "You are stark, raving mad. Why in hell would we ask the enemy if he'd help us beat him? He'd either laugh his way out of the cell or have us killed on the spot,"
"I don't know, he seems too nice to really be on Cayn's side," she said.
"How could you tell? He could be some sado-masochistic creep who only pretends to be friendly to get his victims off their guard," said Owl.
"Good point," she conceded, "But we wouldn't ask him straight out or anything, we'd try and find out where he stands first,"
"I can just see it now, 'So, mister, how do you feel about prison revolts?' Yeah, brilliant plan," he snorted.
"Fine. Do you have any ideas?" Laesha asked, slightly annoyed, though smiling despite herself.
"No, yours is fine," he said glibly, and grinned at her when she put her face in her hands in infuriation.
"Fine," she said, massaging her temples, "I'll talk to Rhys in the morning when he brings breakfast, you just continue acting like a bastard and he won't suspect anything. Okay? Goodnight." She took a ragged blanket from a pile by the wall and curled up the floor, exhaustion creeping up on her again. Owl was smiling as he closed his eyes.
Definitely worth it.
Boy, it has been a while. Sorry about that, folks, it has been a very busy three weeks. But I swear that the next one will be here next Saturday, you have my word as an esca otaku.
This chapter is dedicated to RAD, who was my very first reviewer *ever*.
Yeah, this one's kinda short, but longer things are to come.
Enjoy! Oh, and review!
PART X – The Dungeon
Laesha opened her eyes very slowly. It felt as if someone had taken out all her bones, whacked them around a bit and then put them back in the all the wrong places. She was in a dark cell, with stained and mildew pocked stone walls, a thick wooden door and a single small barred window.
"Where am I?" she asked to no one in particular, groaning and closing her eyes again.
To her surprise, she got an answer; "In the dungeon of the Temple of Dust. You were unconscious for most of the trip over," It was Owl speaking; apparently their captors didn't consider them important enough to be separated.
"Was I?" she mumbled, "Oh. What happened to Crow?"
She didn't get an answer to this. She glanced at Owl; he was glaring fiercely at a particularly moldy spot on the wall. She half expected it to burst into flames.
"Owl," she said as she sat up, fed up with his sulking, "Get over it, whatever happened won't go away if you ignore me."
He turned his glare at her, "Crow betrayed us."
"Lying doesn't make it go away either,"
He reddened in anger, and a little voice told Laesha that she shouldn't have brought it up.
"I am not lying," he spat out, "Remember all that 'outrunning destiny' crap she was talking about and the legend of Ashes?"
"Yeah, Ashes, some poor chick who has to live with Dust and dies a lot."
"Laesha, would you just shut up and listen?"
She did. Something was telling her that she shouldn't annoy Owl when he was in this mood.
"And do you remember what the Forsaken called her?" he said with a little sigh of exasperation.
"What Forsaken? We fought a Forsaken? And we're still alive!"
"Laesha!" he growled, at the end of his badly frayed patience, "Crow IS Ashes."
She felt the bottom of her stomach drop out, "What?" she gasped.
"The eclipse is in seven days. She'll be sacrificed and all the other prisoners, including us, will follow shortly after her." Owl again concentrated on the moldy spot on the wall.
"But—she never said anything," Laesha was still having a bit of trouble grasping this news. It did make sense, now that she thought about it, the secrets, evasions, and why Cayn was holding her in the first place. But…Crow? Ashes?
"And now we're going to die because of it," said Owl with a nasty edge to his voice, "It's all her fault."
Laesha's eyes flashed from hazel to chartreuse and she stood up, furious and impatient with Owl's sulking, "Would you god-damned get over it! It's not her fault that she was born; it's not her fault that we're here now. And it's not her fault that your family's dead. When the gods get involved, you can't blame mortals. When will you realize that?"
He turned towards her; angry lines etched into his white face, but didn't say anything.
~*~
Not another word was spoken until their dinners (some thin glop masquerading as stew, and black bread) came. Laesha had spent the time dozing; she was still exhausted for some reason. Owl had fumed and brooded so fixedly that she was starting to feel guilty about attacking him like she had.
The door opened, and a guard carrying two battered tin plates entered the cell. He placed their dinner on the ground, for them to pick up themselves.
"So, you kids having fun yet?" he joked, rather tactlessly. He was perhaps twenty-five, with tousled blond hair and white teeth displayed through his broad smile. To Laesha's eyes he looked far too good-natured to be a member of a death cult.
"Okay, fine," he said in gracious indignation, "I was just trying to lighten the mood, no need to get so icy on me," Owl's fists were clenched, and he was glaring at him. The guard raised an eyebrow at this, and then looked to Laesha, "Is he always like this?"
She blinked at him; she was too confused at his behavior to respond. "Jeez, you guys are talkative. I just figured that I should get to know my guardees; I'm not going to kill you or anything. It just gets awfully lonely on these long guard shifts, and I figured that it's worse in a cell and that we would both appreciate the company," he said this all very fast, "Whoa," he was staring at Laesha's face, "Your eyes just changed color!"
"Uh, yeah," she said weakly.
He beamed so widely she thought his face would collapse, "Good, now that words have been exchanged, I'm Rhys." He leant down and extended his hand to her to shake. She took it rather cautiously.
"I'm, uh, Laesha, and that's Owl," she couldn't help but trust him; he wore amiability like perfume
"I'm not going to try shake his hand," he added in an undertone nodding slightly in Owl's direction, "because he might yank it off," he waggled his eyebrows. Laesha smiled back.
"Well, I gotta go," he said, straightening up and heading for the door, "If there's anything you need, just shout. I can't guarantee you'll get anything, but at least you'll have a sympathetic ear. It's been lovely meeting you two, and I'll see you at breakfast!"
Rhys flashed one last blinding smile at them and left.
After a long moment, Owl got his food and sat back in his corner, "So, gone over to the enemy already?" he asked her acidly.
"Well considering that you're my only other option for company, and you're being a snotty bastard, I have absolutely no problem with chatting with 'the enemy'". Laesha got her plate and sat down. She began attacking her food with a singular focus, almost, but not quite oblivious to Owl's expression, which fell somewhere in between angry and hurt. But she did see it, and it made her feel terribly guilty. And on top of that, an idea was niggling her.
Finally she couldn't take it anymore, "Look, Owl, I'm sorry to be so harsh, but you know it's true. So stop with the sad puppy look. Sulking won't help us get out of here,"
"Get out of here? Have you finally cracked?" he asked, bewildered. At least he wasn't sulking.
"Well," she began blandly, "I thought that you wouldn't want to die here in misery, at the hands of your enemy, in such a dishonorable and painful way…but maybe I shouldn't have assumed," she was really laying it on, but he was listening now.
He narrowed his eyes, "What are you talking about?"
"Well, I was thinking we could escape in some way –"
"Are you sure you're alright? I think you need some more rest," he said with a hint of mockery in his voice.
"Oh, shut up, Owl. I'm serious,"
"Well, that's great, but do you have some sort of plan or is this all idle speculation?" he was definitely mocking her now, a faint smile played along his lips. Laesha decided that being teased was worth it if this worked.
"Not a plan as such, but I'm getting there," she said, "I was thinking we could get the other prisoners involved,"
"How? We're separated by locked doors and stone walls, it would be kind of hard to communicate," he said skeptically.
"Well, that's where Rhys comes in,"
"Okay, that settles it," he threw his hands up in exasperation, "You are stark, raving mad. Why in hell would we ask the enemy if he'd help us beat him? He'd either laugh his way out of the cell or have us killed on the spot,"
"I don't know, he seems too nice to really be on Cayn's side," she said.
"How could you tell? He could be some sado-masochistic creep who only pretends to be friendly to get his victims off their guard," said Owl.
"Good point," she conceded, "But we wouldn't ask him straight out or anything, we'd try and find out where he stands first,"
"I can just see it now, 'So, mister, how do you feel about prison revolts?' Yeah, brilliant plan," he snorted.
"Fine. Do you have any ideas?" Laesha asked, slightly annoyed, though smiling despite herself.
"No, yours is fine," he said glibly, and grinned at her when she put her face in her hands in infuriation.
"Fine," she said, massaging her temples, "I'll talk to Rhys in the morning when he brings breakfast, you just continue acting like a bastard and he won't suspect anything. Okay? Goodnight." She took a ragged blanket from a pile by the wall and curled up the floor, exhaustion creeping up on her again. Owl was smiling as he closed his eyes.
Definitely worth it.
