So this is a short chapter, but it took me a while to get right, let me know what you think.
He had began to lose count of the days, he wasn't sure how long had passed since he last seen a Templar, it had been easy before to count the time, the Templars would bring food down twice a day. Was it hours? Days? Weeks?
He was sure it had a least been days, the clenching in his stomach proved that, he probably would have died from thirst was it not for the small stream of water that dripping in through the stone in to the cell. He couldn't imagine it being weeks, he hoped it had not been weeks.
The thought of being forgotten about in this cell for weeks sent a shiver down his spin and fear through his stomach.
His hair had gotten longer, and his lips were chapped and broken, these still give him no indication of time. There had been noises through the tower, screams, cries and explosions, but they had fallen quite he didn't know how long they had went on, or when they had stopped but they had. He could feel the magic, he couldn't touch it, the cuff on his hands kept it just out of reach, but it hung in the air around him.
He had been trying, for…. A time…. to try to reach it, the cuffs and chains didn't cut the magic off, didn't suck it out of him, just left it there out of reach, and he had been reaching, stretching to grasp it. He could feel it resting against his skin, and soon he would be able to take hold of it. He felt his eyes droop slightly before they closed.
He opened his eyes slowly, not knowing if he had slept, or simply blinked. How much time had passed now? He wondered. He reached out for his cup that had been collecting the water droplets, draining the now full cup. The cold water stung his lips as they touched, the first gulp sliding painfully down in to his stomach, as pain stabbed into his chest.
He reached again for the magic that he could feel touching his skin, he reached and stretched, until it was brushing against his finger tips. He tried to pull it towards him, but his grasp failed, and he slumped forward in exhaustion, drinking again from his filled cup setting it back after it was once again drained.
If he could count the seconds it took to refill the cup, maybe he could keep time again, he thought as he set the cup back into place and began to count.
"One"
"Two"
"Three"
"Four"
"Five"
"Six"
I really wanted to try and show how out of it Dylan had become, he has no way of knowing how long he's been locked up, and without getting any food and only being able to drink dirty water he's going a little nuts. I dunno how well it came across so let me know how you think it came out?