Alfred watched as the giant wall loomed closer and closer. This thing seemed to be over 200 feet tall! There was a hole in the side of the wall, which Alfred guessed was for things to go in and out. It was surrounded by knights with their swords drawn and at the ready. They seemed to brace themselves as their envoy got closer.

Eventually, they all stopped and Ivan got off his horse to talk with the guards closest to him. Alfred stayed where he was next to Arthur. He heard some other soldiers muttering to themselves. He inched closer to see if he could hear them better.

"What I want to know is how a Russian is Captain of the Guard," a blonde guard whispered.

"He's so freaking creepy, I don't know how anyone works with him," this guard was brunette.

"Yeah, I feel bad for those 5."

Alfred wanted to stare at them, but that would give away the fact that he was listening in on their conversation. "Those 5…" Alfred ran that through his head. There was the 4 in the cage, which Alfred knew they were probably going to die. And then there was him. What was going to happen to him? The same thing that apparently happened to Mathew? Being locked away forever in a dungeon and killed?

Alfred was snapped out of his thoughts by the cage beginning to move again. He walked with it through the hole in the wall and they emerged into a town on the other side. It was like the town lived all around the palace. There were little houses close to the walls and there were shops all around. There was no grass in here, just cobblestone. Kids were running around and laughing and having a good time. They were playing around with wooden swords, chasing each other around in circles.

Then, Alfred noticed something. It was sort of near the palace. The stones were placed differently on the ground there, they made their own sort of circle. The circle was huge, big enough for probably the whole town to crowd into. On one edge, there was a wooden stage. It looked pretty tall, maybe 5 feet high. There was a wooden arch on top of the stage. Coming from the top of the arch, was a rope with a circle on the end. The circle seemed big enough for a head to fit through.

"That's where we're headed," Arthur stated, seeing where Alfred was looking.

"What does that do?" Alfred marveled at the thing.

"Well," Arthur chuckled slightly, like it was funny Alfred didn't know what it was. "That rope goes around a person's neck, and then they fall. Then the rope catches them before they get very far."

"Doesn't that kill you?" Alfred gaped.

"Instantly," Arthur sighed. "Breaks your neck on impact."

"And that's what they do to kill witches?" Alfred asked.

"Yup," Arthur stated.

"Balovenʹ, come here," Ivan said.

"Really?" Alfred yelled, enraged at his nickname.

"Da," Ivan giggled. "I don't want you to get lost with the cage."

"Go," Arthur whispered.

"Fine," Alfred groaned. He stopped walking long enough for the cage to pass him and then he moved over to the other side and walked quickly enough to be at Ivan's side. Ivan was back on his horse and towered over Alfred.

"And stop calling be balovenʹ," Alfred grumbled.

"But it fits perfectly, for you," Ivan giggled.

"Shut up," Alfred groaned. The only reason he was still walking with Ivan was because he felt something pulling him into the palace. All he wanted to right now was book it into that giant castle and find Mathew.

Eventually, once they got closer to the palace, the cage went off to the left. Alfred watched and it went to this path that looked like it wound underground. He waved good-bye to Arthur and Arthur waved back.

Ivan soon got down off his horse and let some random person lead off to the right. Alfred guessed that was where they kept the horses.

"So, I have a question," Alfred said as they walked towards the huge palace.

"Da?" Ivan asked, tilting his head.

"So, in that one town you just killed that witch on sight," Alfred said. "Why didn't you just do that to Arthur? What's special about him?"

"Well, if you haven't noticed," Ivan smiled, "none of the other witches could use their magic around you, but Kirkland can still use his."

"Yeah, I've kind of noticed," Alfred rubbed the back of his head. "You call him Kirkland, too? Why?"

"There's been a lot of Kirklands," Ivan said. "We've started to ignore their first names."

"So, what is so special about the Kirklands?" Alfred asked.

"They are the most powerful witches, da?" Ivan smiled. "That one is the last one still alive."

"Most powerful?" Alfred asked.

"Da," Ivan nodded. "The Kirklands are known for major disasters, such as earthquakes and volcano eruptions and the Plague."

"What's the Plague?" Alfred asked.

"This is more than a question, balovenʹ," Ivan giggled "How do you not know what the Plague is?"

"I'm…uh…not from around here…" Alfred muttered.

"Da, obviously," Ivan laughed as they came up to the giant, oak doors of the palace. The knights guarding it opened the door for them, but Alfred noticed them staring at him worriedly. It was almost like they recognized him and they were uneasy about seeing him.

Alfred noticed all the guards were like this as Ivan led him through the giant palace. Every time one of them saw Alfred, their gaze followed him until they had to crane their necks to see him.

"So you said Mathew was sent to a dungeon," Alfred said. "Would that dungeon have been in the palace?"

"Don't waste your time looking for him, balovenʹ," Ivan said darkly.

"What if I want to?" Alfred crossed his arms in front of his chest. "There should be no problem with that."

"There is," Ivan spoke. "People shouldn't be poking their noses where they don't belong, da?"

"Yes, because my brother has nothing to do with me," Alfred scoffed sarcastically. "You can't exactly stop me from looking for him."

"Baloven'." Ivan growled.

"You don't intimidate me," Alfred glared at him from the side.

"I should," Ivan giggled and Alfred shuddered. He felt that feeling of doom wash over him again and Ivan gripped his hand tightly.

"Let go of me," Alfred growled at him, trying to wriggle his hand free. He stopped walking, but Ivan resumed like nothing had even happened. He began to drag Alfred down the hall. "Let go!" Alfred demanded.

He noticed the guards were struggling not to look at what was happening, knowing it would upset Ivan or something.

Ivan kept walking like nothing was happening. Alfred tried punching Ivan's arm with his free arm, but that only made him walk faster.

"Let go!" Alfred shouted. "Stop!"

Ivan lurched him through the halls of the palace with Alfred behind him screaming profanities until he stopped in front of a small, wooden door. Ivan quickly opened the door and, without a second thought, shoved Alfred into the room with so much force, Alfred tumbled onto the ground. He rolled over a couple times before looking up. The door slammed roughly.

Alfred quickly scrambled up and tried to slam himself into the wood, but that didn't do anything. He slammed against it a couple more times before he went to slamming his fists into it.

"Ivan, open this door!" he screamed. "Let me outta here! Ivan!"

Alfred tried that for a while before he tired himself out. He eventually slid down the door until he was on his knees in front of it, his head slammed against it.

"Screw you, Ivan," he muttered to himself and turned around, leaning against the door now.

He looked around at the room for the first time. It was a circular room, made completely out of stone. It had a large bed on one side of it, a desk on the other, a bookshelf in the middle and a circular rug right in the middle of the entire room. There was no window, just a few torches jutting out of the walls here and there to light up the room.

Alfred felt his stomach rumble and he realized how hungry he was again.

Eventually, he stood up to investigate the room. He went over to the bookcase to rifle through the books. He had seen these a lot, Mathew liked to read them a lot, but Alfred had no idea how to read those squiggly things on the pages, which there were a lot of them in all of the books. He moved over to the desk, which had a couple pieces of paper on it, along with an ink well filled with ink and a pen.

Alfred sat down in the chair behind the desk and leaned in it. He then stood up and paced over to the side of the bed. He placed his hands on the bed and pushed. It was very soft, it would be nice to sleep in. He then paced over to one of the torches and examined it. He went back to the bed and looked underneath it, see if there was anything underneath.

That was when he heard the door open. There was a clatter on the ground and Alfred looked up quickly from the bed just in time to see the door close.

"Shit…" he muttered to himself.

He looked over to where he heard the clatter and noticed a tray. He moved quickly over to it and knelt down on the ground to investigate it. On the tray was what looked like enough chicken to feed 5 people and a cup filled with milk.

Without a second thought, Alfred grabbed a piece of chicken and stuffed it in his mouth. It tasted fantastic, considering he hadn't eaten since the night his parents died. He shoved the food in his mouth so fast, it probably looked like he was eating as if he were about to die. The only break he took from eating was to take a gulp from the milk.

Eventually, he slowed down his eating enough to pick up the tray and move it over to the desk. He plopped the tray on top of the paper, not really caring about it, and then sat down in the chair. He grabbed another piece of chicken and propped his feet up on the desk and then leaned back in the chair. This food was amazing!

And then, it hit him. He felt searing pain in his head that made him drop his chicken and he had to put his feet down from the desk. The pain in his head felt like someone had punched right in the face. Then he felt like someone punched him in the gut and he curled into himself, nearly falling off his chair. He almost cried out in pain, but he knew better than that.

Alfred closed his eyes tightly and he felt another punch in his gut. He knew no one was in this room, but this pain felt so real. Even more real than out in the forest. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in his room. He was back in that damp chamber, and he saw Ivan. His violet eyes looked almost black and he looked about ready to kill him.

"I…I'm sorry," Alfred said with words that he didn't say. He didn't know why he was saying sorry. He knew he had done nothing wrong, but that was what Ivan wanted to hear…so… "I'm sorry…"

The voice that wasn't Alfred's but was coming out of his mouth was barely a whisper. It was so raspy, it was like he hadn't been given water for weeks.

"As you should be, Mathew," Ivan grabbed onto his chin tightly and forced him to look into those terrifying eyes. "I should have killed you 2 years ago."

"I-I'm sorry," Alfred muttered, he tried to move his eyes away from Ivan's so he wouldn't have to look into those deep pits of despair.

Ivan roughly released his chin and turned on his heel to leave the chamber. That man Alfred saw before with the whip came into view. This time, he had a knife in his hand. Alfred closed his hands tightly and he opened them again and he was back in his room, lying on the floor. He had no idea when he fell down, but he didn't care.

"No!" Alfred almost screamed, standing up. "Shit, shit, shit, no!" He ran towards the door and tried to slam against it, to no avail. He slammed into it again and again. Then he got an idea. He went to the back of the room, directly in front of the door and readied himself to run. Then he noticed the door crack open. It was probably some dude coming to pick up the tray, but Alfred didn't care.

"Yes! Thank God!" Alfred cried out and ran. He shoved the person out of the way, he didn't care who it was. He ran past several guards, who only came to attention as he ran past. None of them were fast enough to catch Alfred.

He didn't know how he knew where to go, but he followed his gut. He didn't slow down, even when he almost tripped going down stairs. Or when he almost slammed into a wall taking a corner. It was starting to get dark and musty the further he ran through the endless hallways. He could still hear the clanking of armor as he ran.

Eventually, he slid to a stop right in front of a door. He yanked it open, not really knowing or caring if it was locked. "Stop!" he screamed, not caring if he sounded stupid or not.

When he opened the door, he stopped, his eyes wide. This was the chamber he kept on seeing in those visions. There was that man he had just seen before he started running. He had a knife in his hand, some blood dripping off of it.

And then he saw Mathew. His arms were restrained by some sort of chain far above his head and it looked like that was the only thing holding him up, his feet weren't touching the floor. All he had on were some ragged pants, he was shirtless and he had on no shoes. His chest was littered with scars and bruises, as were his arms and neck. Alfred noticed that there was a long, thin line going across Mathew's chest that was seeping with crimson liquid.

Mathew's eyes were wide. They were blank, but they were wide. He mouthed the word "Alfred."

"Mathew," Alfred felt about ready to cry and ran into the chamber.

Mathew's alive! I can assure you that cut is nowhere near deep enough to kill him, he'll be fine.

And we also get to know a lot more about Arthur here, as well! Yay! Arthur is coming back into the story next chapter, and I know this because I've already written it and he's in it...a lot.

One thing before I go... I have a pole up on my profile, asking a very important question now that you know Ivan's been keeping secrets. So if you could vote on that pole, I would be ever so greatful.

So please review! So that I may be a happy writer and you can be a happy reader! I only got, like, 2 reviews last chapter so...

And I own nothing...as usual...