Seeking Answers

Stelon heaved a sigh. Locked in again. At least it was in better surroundings this time. The antechamber's decor was rather regal, the coloration all in rich jewel tones. There were two padded benches of mahogany in the room as well, both upholstered in what had to be a one of a kind, very rare design.

She was unsure as to what the subject of the conference she had burst in upon had been about, and had noticed how Larkin had whisked her away from it. His gentle touch on her shoulders had been soothing to her aching body, and she smiled.
He was not angry with her. And he was not sentencing her to death. Relief flooded through her like a warm blanket on a cold night. She was safe.
But the blood...He had been bleeding! And it was no small wound either.
No...It's Miraye's work. You were in on this, you naive child. If you had spoken up, Larkin would still be healthy. He would not be fighting against these wounds, this pain that torments his body. It's YOUR FAULT.
She shuddered as she chastised herself, cringed and curled up on one of the benches. Still the man treated her kindly, and she did not understand.

And what of this other man? The man from the dungeons. She had never seen him before, but for some unknown reason, he had been helping her to escape. Why? Where had he come from? Surely he was not sent by Tic! Nor Matthias, or Farrago! She had betrayed them, if one chose to look at it from that view. She had gone against them, sided with the enemy!

But if not from them, then who? Who would care what her fate was to be? It made no sense.

She shivered. There had been a strange aura about the man, one that was not easily shaken. She had felt almost as if she were under a deep trance while in his company. He was powerful. She knew that much. But where did his power come from? These many questions swirled through her mind like a whirlwind, repeating themselves when no answers came to appease her unease.

Would the man come back again? She had no way of telling. No way of knowing if he would bring her help or harm. Whether he was friend, or foe. Confused as she usually was, she curled up on the cushions and let sleep take her to the unconscious. But it was not a sleep of peace and rest.