The cellar they had placed Nixie in was completely empty. Its floor was made of unevenly sized rough rocks, making it nearly impossible to find a comfortable sitting spot. There was no bed, blanket, or food. Only a small opening in the wall let in some light and reminded Nixie of what time of day it was. From the outside, he could hear the sound of heavy, iron-clad boots and orders being barked.

It wasn't easy just sitting there, knowing that he would die today. There were times when he almost felt at ease with his fate; he was calm, and his thoughts were absent... only for the realization to surface again sometime later and send him on the verge of panic. Had they given him something to eat, he was almost sure that, at some point, he would have thrown up anyway.

He shifted uneasily and tried to find a more comfortable position to sit. His whole body felt tense. Nixie was tired, yet unable to calm down enough to get some rest. His eyes kept wandering off to the heavy hatch set into the ceiling in the far corner of the cellar. Any time now, someone would come to deliver him to his fate.

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long. With a screech that caused another wave of panic to curse through him, the hatch was lifted open, letting in enough sunlight to blind him.

Thinking back to his time spent in a cell and awaiting execution, Nixie still wasn't ready to call his current situation an improvement. An order was shouted somewhere in the distance, and the metal-clad wooden platform began to slowly move downwards. The descent was slow but steady. The massive chains attached to each of the platform's corners barely swayed as the group of three men was lowered into a seemingly bottomless pit. The noise the pullies made became fainter as they got deeper into the mountain's depths.

From both sides, he was flanked by a single guard. Most of their faces were covered by helmets, but even in the dim light they gave him the impression that they were used to the armor they wore. They were both almost a full head taller than he was, making him feel like he was completely at their mercy. Which to be honest, he was. Gradually, Nixie became aware that the air around them was getting warmer and heavier.

It was difficult to tell how long it took them to reach solid ground again. When the platform finally came to a halt, the sudden stop caused Nixie to almost comically wobble back and forth before he regained his footing. He was not surprised to note that the two men still stood as still as statues.

A wide corridor opened before them, and once Nixie's eyes finally adjusted to the dim light, he realized that it was framed by balconies that overlooked the entire passage before them. The walls were dotted with flickering lights of torches. Here and there, he could also see brighter spots illuminated by electric lamps. Briefly running his eyes across the balconies above him, Nixie counted at least a dozen more guards – their armor the same as that of his escort. They were all armed to the teeth – heavy crossbows, swords, shields, war hammers, and in the very topmost balconies where little light reached, there were even shadows of what looked like large ballistas.

Nixie drew in an uneasy breath.

"Let's go. Stick close to me and make no quick movements! Otherwise your stay here will be very short one," the man to his right said calmly before walking off the platform.

Nixie wordlessly followed him, his almost noiseless footsteps in stark contrast with the heavy thuds the guard's boots made each time they contacted the rocky ground. They only made it a short distance from the platform before a sudden noise behind him made Nixie turn around again. The platform was moving once more. Heavy chain links clattered against each other before becoming taut again. It only took a few seconds before the platform was high above his head, carrying the other guard back to the surface.

He was now alone with the other man. Nixie turned back around and realized he had fallen behind. Quickly remembering what the man told him, he caught up with a few quick steps.

It only took a few minutes of walking before the ceiling got closer to them, and the corridor they were going through narrowed. Soon after, the rugged, carved walls got even closer, and the passage split in multiple directions. As they made one turn after another, the guard did not hesitate for a single moment. Nixie tried to keep track of the corridors they entered but quickly realized it was hopeless. A sense of nervousness became increasingly pressing the further they walked – one that Nixie couldn't just put down to his gloomy surroundings. After some time, he realized what was causing it.

In between the sound of the guard's footsteps, he could hear wailing from the corridors surrounding them. It was so faint that at first, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but the further they walked, the clearer it got until Nixie could not pretend it was just his imagination. He couldn't make out what the voices that reached him were saying, but there were many of them, and their distant cries made the hair on his back stand up.

"Just what kind of place is this?" he finally asked in a hushed whisper. It hardly surprised him when he got no reply.

Their silent march lasted a few more minutes and only ended when they reached a massive two-winged door set in stone. Stationed in front of it were two guards, standing at attention, each armed with a tall halberd. His companion came to an abrupt halt in front of them and, in an almost mechanically rigid movement, pulled out an envelope from a small pouch strapped to his belt. He raised it at an eye lever of the guards and tilted it towards the light of a nearby electric lamp. Nixie saw the wax seal on it glisten in the light.

Neither of the two guards reacted to the display in any visible way, but after a brief moment, to Nixie's surprise, the envelope was handed to him. Not knowing what else to do, he accepted it, confusion clearly showing on his face.

"What do I do with-"

"Present it to the warden, and you'll be given your assignment," the guard stated in the same flat tone he had used before. Then, as if that statement had made everything clear, he turned and walked back through the same corridor they had arrived from.

Nixie just stood there, envelope in hand, still not fully understanding what was expected of him. He turned to the remaining guards, but the helmets they wore cast shadows over their faces, and it was clear they paid him little attention. None of them made any movement that would suggest they expected him to hand over the envelope.

With his nerves still on edge, Nixie carefully moved towards the door as if expecting the guards to come down at him. They didn't, and he passed through the door unobstructed.

Briar was bored.

It was the most common state of mind she found herself in for the last couple of years. She'd explored the monotone walls of her cell so many times that their image was practically burned into her mind—she saw them even when her eyes were closed. Her only other source of entertainment was a stout, albeit small, grate set in the top of the door to her cell. Not that the view it provided was anything to get too excited about.

The hallway in front of her cell has been empty and devoid of anything interesting for practically as long as she could remember. An occasional guard on patrol was the only event of note she could hope for, and even that was relatively rare.

She paced back and forth in her cell—the moaning of her fellow inmates that reached her from the distance had, after so many years spent here, become little more than a background noise. As far as she was concerned, it was just the sound this place made. It was rare that she even tried to make out what the voices were going on about, and she always regretted it.

"Blood!"A single shriek suddenly cut through the chorus outside, and Briar's pacing came to an abrupt halt.

She stood there frozen and perfectly still until a soft, dripping sound brought her back to reality. Her mouth was open, teeth exposed, and there was a steady streak of saliva dripping down her chin. Briar shook her head, sending her droll flying in every direction. When she realized what she was doing, Briar clumsily tried to wipe it off – a task made rather difficult by the massive stonepilloryshe had locked around her head and arms.

"Well… That was a bit embarrassing," Briar stated aloud, just to get the wailing voices out of her head. Not having much else to do, she started pacing back and forth again.

In the back of her mind, she knew that it wouldn't take much to get at least a momentary respite from the boredom. There was a single thought that she could always rely on, that she could get lost in. Blood! The precious liquid that pulsed in every guard's veins, filled every creature in the world outside. How sweet it was when it wet her lips and went down her throat… She shook her head again like a dog trying to shake off an annoying fly.

Briar took a deep breath and tried once again to empty her head. With some effort she managed to wrestle the nagging thought and push it to the back of her mind again. She smiled a little. Briar could hardly remember the last time she completely lost control. As if on cue, a memory of her early years spent in the cell resurfaced:

Her body twisted into an unnatural shape – her throat contorted in a shriek so loud it felt like she swallowed a fistful of needles. Just another voice in the chorus that filled the halls outside.

Suddenly, she felt her pointed ears twitch, and a new sound liberated her from the embarrassing trip down memory lane. She leaned closer to the door and closed her eyes to better focus.

Footsteps in the distance. Too soft to be made by armored boots and getting closer by the second. Seeing guards was not so rare, but it was not so often that Briar got to see other occupants of the prison. She leaned closer to the grate – its cold metal bars almost touching her face.

The grate only revealed a small portion of the hall in front of her cell. She would only be able to see who was coming once they were right in front of her cell. It was a little game Briar liked to play. Whenever someone walked by her cell, she would try to talk to them or at least get their attention. Not that it ever worked too well, but Briar was happy just to get any sort of reaction out of whoever was on the other side. The best she's managed so far was a patrolling guard who stumbled a little when she jumped into view and shouted at him. Granted, it was not exactly a dialogue – but it felt good when someone at least acknowledged her existence.

The steps were now very close, but the person was still just out of view. Briar would only get a few seconds. She took a deep breath. Then, a figure of an older woman appeared on the other side of the door, barely at arm's length away from her. She wore plain gray clothes that immediately gave her away as one of the janitors – as Briar liked to call them. As she walked down the corridor, her movements appeared slow, clunky, almost mechanical.

She was so close now that Briar's sensitive ears could hear her slow and steady heartbeat. Involuntarily, Briar found herself licking her lips as she listened to the sound – imagining the blood pumping through the woman's veins. However, she was prepared to resist the temptation and quickly regained her focus.

"Hey, I haven't seen you around here! Who are you? I am Briar!" she exclaimed, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It hardly had any effect. The woman didn't even flinch at the sudden outburst next to her. Her eyes remained focused on the hallway in front of her. She continued down the hall with the same tired determination.

"Common, I am just trying to talk to you! What is the hurry?"

And just like that, she was gone. Briar sighed in frustration. Soon, even the footsteps faded, and it was again just her in an empty, dark cell.

Nixie softly pushed open the double-winged door, his eyes warily shifting from one guard to another. When the door opened, and the guards still didn't move, he thought he was probably correct to assume that he was expected inside.

The room he saw in front of him was very much unlike the narrow passages outside. For one, it was well-lit – which Nixie thought was a pleasant change. It, in fact, was also rather well furnished – thick carpet covered the floor, all all four walls were lined with massive bookshelves. A slender young woman was seated directly in front of him behind an intricately carved desk.

At the sound of the door opening, she looked up, and Nixie was a little taken aback at how beautiful she was. Her raven-black hair reached just above her shoulders and contrasted sharply with her pale complexion. Indeed, not someone he would expect to see in a place like this. The woman looked at him, and for a split second, they locked eyes. Her stare betrayed no emotion, but Nixie felt like he was being assessed. The moment was very brief, and then the woman turned back to the letter she was writing.

"Come in and put the envelope on my desk," she stated simply in the tone of someone used to giving orders.

Nixie did as he was told, closing the door after him as he entered the room. Without a word, he stopped at the end of the table opposite the mysterious woman and put down the envelope. In the silence that followed, the only sound inside the room was the woman's pen sliding across the paper.

After what felt like at least ten minutes, the woman finally put the pen down. She snatched the envelope he brought and, with a quick, practiced movement, broke the seal. After pulling out the letter inside her eyes, she quickly scanned it from top to bottom.

"Showed cowardice in the face of an enemy... Disobeyed a direct order... Attacked and injured commanding officer… Attempted desertion…," she slowly listed as she made her way through the letter. Her tone gave no indication that she was trying to chastise him – she read it like one would a shopping list. "Any one of those carries a death penalty in the army," she stated simply and looked at him. "You were not exactly a model soldier."

"I didn't beg them to draft me…" Nixie replied in a hushed tone, feeling the need to defend himself. The woman smiled a little, but it was a cold smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Fair enough. But that doesn't matter anymore. I assume someone had already explained what is expected of you here?"

"I know bits and pieces," Nixie admitted nervously. Something about the woman made him feel uneasy. "It was either this or execution. Not much of a choice, so I didn't bother to ask too many questions."

There was silence for a few moments as the woman measured him up and down. What she saw was a scruffy-looking man in his late twenties dressed in old clothes that were at least two sizes too big for him. The dark circles under his eyes and unwashed hair that reached just above his shoulders were clear signs that it had been some time since he'd had a chance to rest.

The Warden took a deep breath. She hated dealing with rookies. Unfortunately, losses were unavoidable at this place and had to be replenished.

"It is simple, really," she finally said and got up from her chair. "On a daily basis, you will be assigned a series of tasks that you will be expected to carry out that day. You will do so to the best of your ability and then return to your quarters."

"What kind of tasks are we talking about here?" Nixie asked, nervously shifting as the woman approached him. As she got closer, it was like the air suddenly got heavier around him.

She came to a halt directly in front of him and fixed him with a stern gaze. "Simple tasks – cleaning, maintenance, cooking, caring for our... guests. Nothing beyond your abilities, I would hope."

With that, she outstretched her hand and presented Nixie with another sealed envelope. "Your tasks for tomorrow. I will arrange for someone to help you until you get accommodated here."

Nixie took the offered envelope but quickly returned his gaze to the woman. It struck him that he still had no idea who she was, and it seemed she had no intention of introducing herself.

"Who are you anyway, and what is this place?"

She furrowed her brow when Nixie spoke up, but her tone was still perfectly even when she replied.

"As you have hopefully noticed, this place is a prison of sorts, although storage might be a more accurate description. People whose services are not required at the moment are kept here until their moment comes." If she noticed the confused look on Nixie's face, she didn't let it show. "As for me, my name is of no consequence to you. You may address me as Warden. All you need to know is that you are under my command for as long as you are here."

"That doesn't explain much…"

"It is as much as you need to know."

An uncomfortable silence set again in the room. The woman's pale blue eyes were locked on him – completely unyielding. By any sense of the word, the woman in front of him was gorgeous, and yet, just being in her presence, Nixie felt a rising sense of dread in the back of his mind. He only endured her gaze for a few seconds before shifting his eyes away.

"How long will I be staying here?" he asked finally. His own voice sounded pathetic even to him.

"That only depends on how long you last."