Conflicts of the Faithless [Part Two]

“Wake her up.” The familiar voice of the man who damned her to confinement boomed, little did he know that she’d been awake for a few hours. Sleeping on literal rock served to be a difficult task, not that someone who boasted such strength would understand or empathize.

Oh, she would love to spit in the face of the man for bringing him this far. The source of conflict came from their king, surely. But her vendetta became personal after being defeated and held captive. Why didn’t he have the dignity to finish her off? She was utterly useless without men to lead into battle. Ransom? If so, Hazel will take a sacrificial lunge and kill as many enemies from the inside as she can.

Breathing served to be a difficult task, for her neck remembered how hard the hand gripped around her throat. Any mana she had when she was free would be stripped from her, the walls drained any bit of energy she had. Mages? If not, there was no understandable explanation, for walls themselves shouldn’t be draining mana. Searching for the source could shift the tides.

Due to the lack of a schedule in Hazel’s mind, days would have to be spent studying. If they won’t kill her, she’ll make them regret not killing her. Unfortunately, that left the strategist guild quite stranded without a mentor. They had to get out alive, they ran. There were much bigger forces back in the kingdom, like hell will Thyra fall.

Screechy creaks could be heard, followed by steps that grew louder. Two sets of feet by the sounds of it, or perhaps a stuttering set. Likely the former. Hazel’s eyes remained shut, she wasn’t going to make this easy for them. Prideful, but with pride came every fall.

A metallic nudge against her gut, soon followed by a command. The sound of a low-pitched female, a knight. “Get up, peasant.”

“Miranda!” Another voice cut in, this time the sound of a male. He seemed rather displeased, despite how hoarse he sounded. Of age? Likely a century older.

Hazel remained still, eager to listen to their interaction. Petty insults from the enemy can’t sting her self-esteem, even in this current state. They didn’t have the balls to kill her, they may as well be her slaves if they wanted to give her free hospitality. The thought nearly cracked a smirk on her lips, but she had to remain as an actress.

Rather than receiving gossip, Hazel proceeded to take a sharp kick to the gut instead. No more feigning, the captor’s eyes widened and her lips expressed a sharp exhale.

“You wake up when you are told to wake up you absolute-”

“That’s ENOUGH!” The younger male voice ordered, stopping the chaos that was bound to ensue.

Perfect timing, that gut shot costed Hazel a clot of blood. Wincing as her stomach churned, only for her to cough out the infamous iron taste from her lips. Not a pretty sight for her to be coughing blood, but it seems the female knight has no empathy. The older male knight was just stoic. It was the one that choked Hazel that demanded for the torment to end. Seemingly. Who knows what these unholy beasts had in their minds?

Hazel’s vision was foggy, a fair status considering she just obtained consciousness. But audio wasn’t so bad, and she heard the struggles of the young male and the lady. She likely wanted to get more blows in, such spite for business that was so impersonal. They were the exact savages Hazel saw them to be without being sentenced to confinement.

“Let me get another kick in, you absolute bastard!” The female guard screamed. Miranda, right. This “Miranda” was into overkill, Hazel had no idea what the hell her problem was. It shook her, for that was someone with apparent authority over her. It’s easy to mock them for not trying to kill her, but Miranda had the potential to do it if left unchecked.

“Clear your head or else you’ll lose it!” The younger guard ordered. How lovely, they threatened each other. Hazel wished she could have spit on them both, but even that was above them. Though the older guard would soon follow up, changing perspectives immediately.

“We must’nt quarrel over her, she’s awake. You full-well understand what happens if we put her down.” So she DID have value to them. Hazel needed to know to what extent. They weren’t going to tell her while she was awake, naturally. So nothing went further. On the plus side, they confirmed what she needed to know.

No further did they speak, grunts of struggle died down and Hazel was left to listen to sharper inhales and exhales. What a mess, one of their strongest men couldn’t keep the emotions of his people in check. A prideful assumption, but anyone who approached Hazel had to have some sort of power. Or perhaps a mental block.

She slowly pressed herself up with her arms, only to be jolted up by her forearms. Strong grips and forceful movements, because Hazel wasn’t weak enough in their eyes. Were they trying to have a heart attack put her to sleep? At least she was up on her feet. Kind of.

The younger male and female guards were in front of her, both equipped with heavy armor. Neither of them had unsheathed weapons, so they weren’t willing to kill her. Or each other. Perhaps reason might influence them?

“I WILL get that extra hit in one day.” Miranda quipped, as if she just had to prove Hazel wrong. Telepathy? Likely not, just a painful coincidence.

“Ignore her, Thyrian.” The younger male… Commanded? Ordered? Stated? His tone was so harsh, but it wasn’t that hard to ignore. What was Hazel supposed to believe? “What matters now is that you need to speak to King Cree.”

“And what if I refuse?” Hazel retorted, sneering in turn. She expected Miranda to react, but the male guard was swift to step between them. How wise. However, he seemed to have neither anger nor amusement on his face. Indifference, the same indifference shown on the battlefield. Does he not feel emotion?

“Then you will be left alone until you do.” He replied, calmly. His tone wasn’t cold despite what his words meant.

“She WHAT!?” Miranda tried her best to butt in.

“If she’s not going to speak, we can’t make her. Unless you want to kill her.” He replied.

“Of COURSE I want to kill her!”

“And Lord Cree will kill you in turn. So how about you keep those wide lips of yours shut until you are given the chance.”

“As if you’d give me the chance…”

Hazel just watched this free jester play going on in front of her. If it didn’t hurt to laugh, she’d mockingly do so. Escalate the situation for her entertainment. But she stayed silent. They can’t kill her, a commander. But she needed to speak? Now that was interesting. Still, it could be a trap, so these three can piss off, because Hazel was going to stay until she was rescued!

She had to…

“I’m not speaking with him, so commit to your words and leave.” Hazel answered, soon to be dropped to the ground immediately after. Nothing graceful, but at least she didn’t hit her head.

“W-We’re just going to-“

“ONE more word Miranda and I’ll see to it that you don’t have a tongue to jeopardize our politics further anymore!”

Three sets of feet proceeded to exit the isolated room Hazel was in, soon followed by the screeches of the door. What lovely people, Hazel awaits the day where she gets to shove a spade through their hearts. Miranda would be the most fun.

But patience. There had to be a rescue party coming for her.

Part One

Fantasy

Noel Winter View All →

Care to read a few tales? I just happen to have a few!

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