Chapter 11

Lady Warner stood in the flaming hallway; mortar and rubble falling from the walls and ceiling fixtures. She watched as her four children ran as fast as they could through the fire to the door at the end of the hallway. As they became smaller and smaller, her heart sank deeper and deeper. They were so young and innocent; and going through this trauma could and would scar them for life. The four children ran further and further down the corridor and disappeared within a cloud of smoke. Their trampling footsteps became quieter and quieter.

And then they were gone. Like dust in the wind.

A rush of emotions flooded Lady Warner and she fell to the floor. Tears fell from her eyes but evaporated just as quickly – the heat was intense. But for a moment, she forgot about the dangers surrounding her and wept for the loss of her children. She prayed that they would make it out alive and live long, happy lives. Even though it would be without her. Priscilla may still have been a teenager but she was mature and Lady Warner was sure that she could lead Yakko, Wakko and Dot to safety.

Despite her surroundings, Lady Warner slowly rose from the floor and glanced solemnly through the door on her left. She made her way through it. Through the darkness, Wakko's drawings were visible on each wall including; a full family portrait of stick figures each drawn with a different bright crayon colour, a questionable knight in shining armour (purple armour to be precise) and what Lady Warner believed to be a dog however this was debateable. Looking around the room more, stuffed animals could be seen lined up against the wall on wooden shelves. Other toys were scattered on the floor in wild disarray. In the corner, a crib was standing in the shadows. It looked lonely and this saddened Lady Warner. It once held all of her children at one point. When they were small and fragile. When they needed her most of all.

Watching not to trip on the abandoned toys, she walked slowly over to the crib. She could feel herself shaking, despite the rising heat in the room. Glancing into the empty space, a small patch of pink seemed to shine in the darkness, catching Lady Warner's eye. Slowly and carefully, she picked up the small piece of fabric. It was little Dot's stuffed rabbit; so small and worn. She remembered it used to belong to Priscilla but she offered the rabbit to Dot when she was born. The ashes had clearly done some damage as the pink colour, which used to be so vibrant, now looked dull with small patches of charcoal grey. She caressed the soft fibres and stitches with her fingers.

Many wonderful memories flooded her otherwise clouded mind. Memories of Dot when she was first born; so adorable and happy. She remembered that Dot never cried when she was born, she smiled. The boys were smitten when she came home with Dot. They wouldn't leave her alone for weeks; bouncing up whenever she cried to help with the feeding and even the diaper changing. Dot was smitten on the boys as well. There were even times when she needed her brothers by her side at night to stop her from crying. Occasionally, Lady Warner found all three of them sharing the crib, cuddling together. Priscilla was a natural as well. She would always make up the most wondrous stories for her younger siblings and would tell them with such vigor, sometimes even acting out scenes and doing voices for the characters. The sound of her children's laughter then filled her mind. It was so joyful to hear, even in her imagination. She found herself smiling.

Almost immediately after, Lady Warner snapped back to reality. She stared again at the empty crib, clutching the small rabbit even tighter now. Against the rising temperature in the room, her tears were a cold relief on her cheeks. Another comfort was the soft material of the rabbit as she clutched it to her chest and sat her cheek gently on its head.

'MOM!'

The voice echoed so loudly in the corridor outside; sending Lady Warner's heart into a frenzy.

'MOM!'

It was Priscilla.

But she didn't understand. The kids should be long gone by now, away from the castle, on the road to safety. So why was she hearing her eldest daughter's voice. Why was she still here?!

Her motherly instincts kicked in and she immediately found herself running down the hallway towards the same door that her children had passed through just moments ago, small rabbit plush still in hand. Priscilla's voice seemed to be coming from the bottom of the stairs.

'MOM!'

True enough, as Lady Warner opened the door, Priscilla's voice was louder, clearer and much more desperate than before. Her heart rose to her throat as her mind raced; thinking of all the chaos that could be waiting at the bottom of these stairs. Her breath was rushed and panicked. She stumbled down the stairs as quickly as her legs could carry her. So quick, that there were times she missed a step or two and fell with a thud, painfully onto her side. Despite the pain, she got back up and continued to flee down the spiral staircase.

'MOM! MOM! MOM!'

'MOM!' Lady Warner awoke startled to find Priscilla standing over her shaking her shoulders violently. 'You have to wake up, come on! He'll be here any second!'

The footsteps were getting louder and louder. His obnoxious boots trumped their way down the dungeon staircase; his silhouette ominously flowing down the wall, growing larger and larger. The closer he came to the dungeon cell bars, the more intimidating he became to Lady Warner. Priscilla, on the other hand, looked upon him as a nuisance with a head that was so big she was surprised the crown fit.

As he stood at the cell bars, he puffed out his chest and sighed.

'Good morning ladies. It's wonderful to see you this fine morning.' He bellowed.

Lady Warner sharply bowed her head upon hearing his voice. Priscilla reluctantly followed. Her ears were still sore from yesterday and she did not care for a repeat of the incident.

'I certainly hope we will have no mishaps today. You are both on your final warning. The damage done to my very expensive, one of a kind, satin white cape cannot be undone unfortunately. So the punishments shall continue until I see fit.'

Priscilla, still bowing her head, glanced over to her mother. She looked petrified. She was shaking and Priscilla could swear she was whimpering as well. Her bottom lip was quivering and her eyes were so wide that she wasn't blinking at all. Priscilla had planned a snide remark to retort with but decided against it upon seeing her mother.

'Yes sir.' Both Lady Warner and Priscilla both answered in unison.

The door to the dungeon opened.

Another day had begun. A day of servitude. A day of hardship.

Another day where Priscilla missed her father, her siblings and her freedom.

Another day where Lady Warner lived in fear. Fear of a man she had known for years, a man who stood by her husband's side through his life.

Another day where hope for salvation dwindled towards non-existence.

'Yakko…please hurry.'