Hey guys! Me again! Follow the previous posts (and/or read the story from the beginning) using this label if you’re interested :)
Darius stops beside me and I nearly bump into him.
“What are you doing in here? You are suppose to be out. Guarding the door.” The man’s voice reminds me of a snake. The words hissed and dragged out. His black hair is tied in the back with a leather strap. A sword hangs loosely at his side, his white eyes seemed to focus on me and a chill crawls up my spine.
I reach under my cloak, and close my hand over the cool glass of a vial. I don’t know which one, but right now, anything would work as long as something happened to the man.
I’m scared but Darius nods once, his face void of emotions. “We were told that his Majesty requested our presence at once.”
The man hesitates before offering us a creepy smile. “Well then, we don’t want to keep his magnificence waiting, do we?”
He turns and walks away, without sparing us another glance. Something’s off about the castle. It’s too quiet, too vacant. Darius looks at me sideways.
“Something’s not right. Keep your guard up.” He says, voicing my thoughts. I nod and we make our way through the silent hallways.
Darius quickens his pace and opens a door. Behind the door is an iron door. A thin, wiry man sat on a chair beside the door, a pair of keys in his hands, I wonder briefly how he was suppose to guard the door when it looks like he couldn’t even lift his sword.
“Open the door.” Darius commands. The man jolted up, and scrambled to his feet. A look of surprise crosses his face as he grabs his sword. When he notices who it is, he smiles.
“Folker! Of course.” For a moment I’m confused, then I remember that we took the appearances of the two guards out front. The man unlocks the iron door and pushes it open. We step inside and the man sits back down. Darius moves back to the open door and slams the hilt of his sword on the man’s head. He slumps forward, the look of surprise on his face one more.
I wonder why Darius didn’t do that earlier, but I don’t say anything, just follow him back in. The dungeon reeks of death and sorrow. I close my mouth to prevent myself from heaving the contents of my stomach.
And then I see her. Faye. She’s inside a cell, her brown hair caked with blood and she’s not moving.