She didn't know if it was the headache that woke her, or the taste in her mouth. Both were equally foul, as was the smell of the air she breathed--a combination of unwashed bodies, damp woolen clothes, rotting something-or-other and the choking smell of decay, with a little rancid food and stagnant salt water thrown in for seasoning.

The next thing she became aware of was the fact that her wrists and ankles were bound with heavy iron chains that chafed and bit into her soft skin, and she was blindfolded. She was also being carried by two or more men, who were undoubtedly the primary source of at least one component of the stench. They smelled as though they hadn't bathed in years. Shana breathed shallowly through her mouth, hoping she wouldn't have to deal with the fetid air for long.

The men carrying her stopped. Metal scraped on metal, and she heard the protesting groan of a poorly oiled lock. Hinges screamed, accompanied by the groan of wood, as though a seldom-used door was being forced to open against the wishes of its warped frame.

"All right, whut th'hell're y'all waitin' fer? Th'Warden'll be right pissed if'n that'un ain't locked up proper!" a twangy male voice snarled.

"Keep yer goddamn britches on," someone growled near her ear. "Th'bitch'll be locked up soon's you get the friggin' door open so quit wastin' our time."

Metal screamed again. "Well, put 'er in then," the first voice whined.

She was carried a very short distance and unceremoniously dumped on what felt like a pile of straw. "Th'Warden said we was to take th'chains off, an' take that-there blindfold off too," a third man said.

She made sure her eyes were closed and feigned unconsciousness. The heavy chains were roughly removed, scraping her arms and legs more, and the blindfold ripped off her head. It took some of her short brown hair with it. She bit the inside of her lip hard to keep from crying out.

"Well, git out then. Three guards on this'un!" It was the first man who spoke. Booted feet clumped over the floor. The hinges screeched as the door was forced shut.

Shana lifted her eyelids just the slightest bit and tried to look around. The light was too dim. She opened her eyes the rest of the way.

No one was in the tiny room with her. A single weak torch sputtered and wavered, dimly illuminating the rest of the room. Massive spiderwebs draped every corner and most of the ceiling. Long trails of mold crawled down the dark, rough stone walls. She was nearly certain she heard the squeaking of rats.

She was lying on a pile of hay covered with dirty, rough wool. The hay smelled like it was several years old and moldy in the bargain. The wool wasn't any better, and had the added stench of sweat and unwashed humans. Also, it was cold. Shana shivered in her sleeveless shirt and cropped shorts.

Where am I? The accents she'd heard were indicative of the lower classes...the lower classes of Sandora.

Oh God, I'm in Hellena Prison.

The thought nearly made her vomit. That was it, then. She would die here. No one ever left Hellena alive.

Dart will come for me.

Shut up, she snarled silently at that childish hope. Dart would not come for her. He wasn't stupid, nor to her knowledge suicidal. He would not come chasing into Hellena Prison after her.

That meant she was on her own for an escape. Her item bag was gone, as she'd expected, and so was her weapon. Perhaps she could steal a bow. It wouldn't do much, given her lack of physical strength. Shana sat back and considered her options coldly. She could try to escape or she could sit here waiting.

She would almost certainly die in an escape attempt, and she knew she didn't have the strength to try it right now. Frowning, she examined her wrists and ankles. The cuts and scrapes oozed blood sluggishly, and didn't look particularly clean either. Shana knew some first aid, but not enough to help without clean water to wash the cuts. Or bandages.

The sheer hopelessness of her situation hit her then, and she curled into a small knot on the lumpy bed. She was alone, in Hellena Prison, obviously heavily guarded. She was injured and had no way to deal with her injuries, nor did she have a weapon. Even if she could get a weapon, she would never be able to get out of this place alive. Her skill with bow and arrow wasn't sufficient to take out all the guards, and even if it was, objectively she knew her body was too fragile. Any blows they landed would take her out easily.

Oh God....Dart, where are you when I need you? You promised me you'd take care of me.... Shana buried her face in her hands and wept.

~*~

She must have cried herself to sleep. It was the noise outside that woke her. Shouts, clashing weapons. She sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes, and bit back a scream as an enormous cockroach began to crawl up her leg. She kicked violently and it soared across the room. Shuddering violently, she looked around to be sure no more vermin were approaching her.

"Stop them!"

She scrambled to her feet, bracing herself. "Double Slash!"

Dart?

That was Dart's voice!

"Harpoon!" She didn't recognize that voice, deeper and rougher than Dart's. Someone groaned and she heard something heavy crash into the door of her cell. Then there was silence.

Oh God, Dart hadn't been killed had he?

"We'd better throw their bodies down into the ravine," the deeper voice suggested. "The less obstructions to our escape with your friend, the better."

"You're right, Lavitz." That was Dart's voice again. Thank God. Shana leaned back against the stone wall for a moment, weak-kneed with relief. Then she forced herself to straighten and rubbed her hands over her face, hoping the evidence of her earlier tears was gone. She wanted Dart to see her as a young woman now, not a child.

A key scraped in the lock.

The hinges squealed.

There he was, in shining red armour. His blonde hair still poked up at all angles in untamed spikes, and his blue eyes searched the cell.

She launched herself into his arms. The armor was hard and dug into all the wrong bits of her when he wrapped one arm around her, but she didn't care. He had come for her, and she was safe.

"Come on, Shana, we'll get you out of here," he said gently.

Oh, not THAT tone! She knew it meant he was thinking of her as his baby sister again. She sighed faintly.

"Lavitz and I will protect you," he said, starting to lead her out of the cell.

She picked up the bow that lay on a crate nearby and aimed it carefully away from them, testing the string. It was a decent weapon. "I can fight too!" she protested.

The shock in his eyes slowly turned to an assessing gaze. Secretly she smiled. She'd just jogged the first of his assumptions about her.

It would take time, but her knight in red armour would see her for the woman she now was, not the child he had left behind.

She smiled as she began to follow him and the blonde man in green, the one he called Lavitz.

~*~

Author's Commentary: Well, I got kinda stuck there at the end, but I don't mind how it turned out ^.^; Please C&C if you read this far!