Darkness.
I am awake.I must break free.I must have vengeance.Open your eyes.Holgarth Half-Blood, King o’ the Hills and the High Places, forced his eyelids open. He grunted and groaned with effort, as if a great weight had been placed upon them by an unknown hand. His mind felt unfocused and his flesh trembled with weakness. Why this was, he could not say. There was no memory of what had come before this moment, only the distant recollection of his defeat and the subsequent disorganized days of incarceration. How long had he been in this place, this Maw? There was no answer. There had only been darkness, and silence, and the cold. But now, there was light. He blinked his eyes, trying to adjust his blurred vision. He caught a shadow of movement to his side, but was powerless to investigate. Growling, the Half-Blood tried to move his limbs, but to no avail.
You have woken. That voice – Holgarth forced his eyes shut once more, struggling against his confines. He wasn’t ready to face it again, refused to play this game of cat and mouse for the Witches amusement. But there was no escape. No matter how hard he tried, he could not break loose. With a final roar of frustration, he opened his eyes to face the terror. This time, his vision was clear.
Half-Blood. I have been waiting.He was in a large chamber, dimly lit by a ghastly blueish light of unknown origin. The stone walls were damp with moisture, rising upwards into a vault above. There were other people there, their forms veiled in shadow, but Holgarth barely noticed any of this. He only had eyes for the entity that stood before him, in the center of the room. The moment his gaze fell upon her face, despair took hold of his heart with merciless talons of ice.
The Warden.
She (It? Holgarth wasn’t sure the Warden could be counted as a woman) stood perfectly still, observing him. His mind screamed whenever he laid eyes upon her; something was wrong. It was as if she was not really there, not real at all, but at the same time the only real thing in the room. Even the light and the shadows seemed to fall upon her incorrectly, as if they had a conscience of their own and were reluctant to touch the abomination. Time stretched, Holgarths heavy breathing the only sound in the room. Finally, he could bear it no longer and roared his rage at her.
Release me, witch, or kill me! I tire of your games! Why do you keep me here? What is it that you want?The Warden remained motionless, as if he hadn’t spoken. As if he wasn’t there. Holgarth strained again, but could not move. He looked down on his body, but found no bounds. He stood upright, clothed as he had been the day of his capture, still as a statue. He roared again, his frustration mingled with panic, fruitlessly straining against the invisible force holding him in place.
Patience, the Warden said, her voice like breaking glass.
All in due time. They are waking.The very next moment, one of the shadowed figures began to stir. Holgarth growled.
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