“Leave him.”

The heavy tramp of boots barely echoed in his ears, secondary to the wheezing of his breath. He was on his side, or so he assumed based on how he was watching the lantern light swing outside his cell. Aurora rose stiffly, pushing himself up on one arm and staring down at the blood drooling from his mouth, puddling on the ground beneath his shaking body.
Pain was all he could focus on.

“Look at him go.”

It had been a day or maybe less before anyone came after Rowena had left him in silence once more. They brought water, something he desperately needed but the allure of escape was all too tempting. He didn’t make it far before they’d brought him back, nearly knocked the light out of him and then left again. Beaten within an inch of his life for a second time, perhaps less for all he knew.

Agony was the one thing he knew for certain.

“Not done yet, are you? Vexing piece of shit,” someone spat.

Aurora dragged himself to the wall, slumping against it and extending one leg out before him. Every breath hurt, ribs aching from where a boot had been slammed once, and then again. A bruise, one of many dark patches forming on the paleness of his skin, was painted in a dark shade of purple under his swollen eye.

“Vex it all,” he breathed out in a whine.

Rolling his head sideways, he reached shakily for a bowl, hands quivering too harshly not to spill most it on the stone around him. Blood clung to his tongue even after he’d finished the bowl, half tempted to swipe up what he could from the floor, but knew most of it had already bled away down the stone.

“Shit,” he mumbled, arching his back against the wall.

Any lesser amount of consciousness was better than his current state and sleep was all too alluring. The straw pile was close, close enough to reach if he walked a few paces but the thought of standing was nauseating. Aurora swallowed, pushing himself up against the wall and wrapping an arm tightly around his middle. Hs knee buckled beneath him and he went stumbling forward, hardly making it a stride before, despite how humiliating it felt, he took to crawling.

The door to the cell creaked, swinging open again, and Aurora prepared for them to strike him again, end him for all he knew. Part of him would’ve welcomed it, even if, in that moment, most anything would be better than the place he found himself in. Instead, his head was lifted by his blood streaked hair, ripped upward to where he was peering into her eyes, or so it seemed.

“Aurora, are you still with us?”

“Piss off,” he huffed, spitting blood from his mouth and onto the ground. “You can’t…hurt me.”

Rowena’s brows furrowed. “I believe I just did.”

“Not you,” Aurora snapped, “them. You’re not even real, are you? You’re not real.” He paused, pulling his head away and resting it against the wall. “You’re not real.”

She stared back, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re not real!” he seethed. “You’re not!”

“Of course, I’m real,” Rowena scoffed, turning back to her men. “Did one of you hit his head too hard? He’s speaking nonsense.”

What men?

No one was there.

The lantern was gone.

Aurora’s eyes closed, slamming shut as he brought his hands up to fist in his hair, tugging until he felt strands come free. “You can’t hurt me.”

She stood slowly, backing away and wiping a bloodied hand on her pants. “He’s mad, isn’t he?”

The lantern flickered.

The door shut.

Nothing.

He didn’t know how long it had been. Days blurred into weeks and weeks even further into unmeasurable amounts of time he’d long since forgotten to keep track. A month, he thought, perhaps slightly longer, was all it possibly could have been but the Dravara were coming less and less.

Punishments, they’d called it. Beatings was more accurate to describe what they never failed to do whenever he even showed a shred of freewill. But it was beginning to hurt less, bruises fading without him noticing while cuts healed without him feeling how the scabbed over skin tugged whenever he moved.

An animal, he thought, that’s what he was.

He was a menace, pacing back and forth incessantly until the miles he walked had begun to wear holes in his boots. He’d discarded them, tossing them off in a corner where they hadn’t been touched for several days despite how cold the stone was beneath his feet. It was the only thing he could feel without a sun, no wind to blow through his hair and no moon to shine over him when night fell.

Compassion was something that was beginning to disappear with any hope of escape.

She’d been right when she said there were two sides of him and they were quarrelling, arguing on whether or not, given the chance, he’d really try to leave. Aurora assumed he deserved it in some regard but the overwhelming sense of loneliness was something he wouldn’t have wished on anyone.

Save for one.

His head snapped up at a sound, hand moving away from where he’d been scratching at the side of his jaw where a thin layer of stubble, if the itchy patches of facial hair could be called such a thing, had begun to grow. They couldn’t have been coming again after having come the day before. It was strange to think they’d come again after so soon having tormented him already.

Aurora yawned, rubbing his face tiredly as if trying to smear away the shadows that never went away from beneath his eyes. He didn’t sleep much or even at all if he could avoid it. But when the inevitable came and he did shut his eyes for more the a few moments, foul dreams made sure it wasn’t for long.

Elizabeth.

He dreamed of her often, the night and the feeling of the gun slipping from his fingers before the cold of the weapon was replaced by the sickening warmth of her blood. It played over and over in his mind, sticking around even when he was awake and it was a constant nagging sense of guilt he couldn’t let go of.

A sharp bang came from the door to the prison nearby and his head shot up again, stepping back to the wall warily and watching as the figures shuffled inside. Someone was being dragged, a sound he recognized as feet shuffled desperately to keep up with the others. Chains rattled, the door beside him was thrown open and inside went tumbling a scrawny looking figure he couldn’t see clearly.

“Come to bring me a companion? How kind of you.”

“Quiet,” one of them snapped.

The lantern carried by one of the men brightened and he stepped forward cautiously, narrowly catching something thrown to him through the bars.

“Don’t expect it to happen again.”

He looked down, hurriedly unwrapping the bundle and finding something that resembled a bit of dried fish and half of a bruised apple. Aurora smiled, looking up to the man and nodding appreciatively. “Much obliged.”

“Rowena sends her regards.”

“Am I being rewarded?”

There wasn’t an answer as the Dravara all turned, slamming the cell door beside him and skirting off into the darkness. A second door announced their departure and Aurora looked up for the first time at the figure in the corner. They were huddled against the wall, breathing heavily and shivering in the dark.

He ventured closer, leaning against the bars separating them and frowning.

“Keep away from me,” a voice hissed.

“I can’t exactly come much closer. I may be able to do a few things but pass through metal isn’t one,” he paused, smiling at the thought. “If I could, I would have been out of here long ago.”

The figure got to their feet clumsily, unsteady and shaking as he leaned back against the wall behind him. “Who are you?”

“Aurora…and you?”

“L-Lucius, why does it matter to you?”

He shrugged, tearing off a bit of the fish and quickly devouring it. “You asked me my name, I thought it would be decent of me to ask yours.”

The other prisoner was quiet, sliding back down the wall again with a groan. Aurora frowned, folding the cloth back over the bundle again and turning to the boy quaking against the stone.

“Hungry?”

Lucius looked up, hood covering most of his face aside from one of his eyes that simply narrowed questioningly before he nodded unsurely. Aurora tossed it through, watching as the other prisoner slid over to it and pulled the bundle into his lap.

“You sure you don’t want it?”

Aurora shrugged, still leaning against the bars. “I just ate yesterday. I’ll survive and you seem to need it more than I do.”

He didn’t answer, only falling silent as he ate. Aurora waited, staring off into the dark again until the cloth was tossed back to him.

“I don’t like apples much, but thanks.”

“I’m mostly indifferent about them, but it pays not to be picky here,” Aurora replied, shrugging. “Besides, I think they’re trying to poison me.”

The boy looked appalled. “Why would you give it to me then?”

“I said they’re trying to poison me,” he continued, “not you. I’m certain that, if they are, it’s specific to me. I eat the fish just fine, so do the rats, but I don’t trust some of the other bits.”

A scoff. “Can poison be specific to one person?”

“If it’s Rowena we’re talking about,” Aurora huffed, “she’d find a way.”

“What did you say your name was?” Lucius asked quietly, laughing.

“Aurora,” he answered plainly. “Why?”

Lucius grunted, limbs shaking as he staggered to his feet. “You were an officer, weren’t you?”

Aurora nodded, watching as the boy limped forward, stumbling before sitting down closer to the wall of bars between them.

“I was a stable boy. We met a once.”

“I don’t remember,” he replied truthfully. “Did we talk?”

“Y-you snapped at me and told me to go away. I’m not sure that count as talking.”

The light made it difficult to see the boy clearly but he could pick out the reddish color of his hair and the grey-green of his one visible eye. He turned his head then, facing Aurora for the first time and revealing a nearly swollen shut eye and a bloody gash along his cheek. He blinked, surprised by the sight of the blood still running down his face, dripping off his jaw and landing with a quiet tap on the stone beneath them.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Aurora nodded, frown deepening.

“I shouldn’t have run,” he said in a sigh.

“You’re a runaway?”

Lucius shook his head, eyes closing as his head dropped back against the wall. “No, I knew some things about the Dravara and Rowena didn’t like that. I told someone about it, mentioned something, you know? Staying quiet-“

He cut himself off, reaching down to press a hand over a dark stain Aurora could barely make out against the fabric of his pants. His teeth grit, brow furrowing as he slid down to the floor once again. “F-fine…why do you ask?”

“You’re hurt.”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” said Lucius, voice straining. “Just a scratch…or something.”

While it was obvious the boy was lying, Aurora wasn’t going to frighten him with pressing any further. He hadn’t fled at the sight of him, flinched whenever he got close or even so much as questioned why Aurora was there.

The first in months not to spit curses at him that he knew were true.

“Sit down,” he ordered, watching as Lucius tried getting to his feet again. “You’re going to hurt yourself worse.”

“Stop what?”

“That.”

Lucius swallowed, eyes flashing as he slumped back against the wall again. “I-I’m scared. No, not just scared…I’m terrified. I can’t just sit here and wait for…” His words trailed off as he took a shaking breath. “I don’t want to die. There has to be some way out of here, right?”

Aurora shook his head. “There’s no shame in it. Anyone with half a brain is afraid of one thing or another. Anyone without fear is mad or something far worse.”

Lucius snorted, rubbing his eye carefully.

“I’ve heard about you and that doesn’t sound like something you’d say.”

“You’re right. My best friend did…a long while ago.”

The boy nodded and much to Aurora’s relief, he didn’t ask about the second bit of his reply. Lucius looked up again. “Well, what are you afraid of?”

He shrugged for a moment, unsure of exactly how to answer. There were few things he considered frightening and few truly terrifying things existed in the world, he thought. Most things, or so he’d learned, weren’t so horrifying after all.

“I’m afraid that one day, I’ll die-“

“I think most people are afraid of that-“

“You didn’t let me finish,” he quipped. “But when I die, the world will know me as a madman, a killer. They will celebrate knowing that someone like me is dead because people like me, don’t deserve to live. I’ll die some day and that’s all they will ever see me as, something that never should have lived in the first place.”

Lucius was quiet for a moment, nodding slowly. Aurora shrugged. “I’m afraid of snakes too.”

“I’m glad you said that. I didn’t know what to say. I just met you again and you’re already making my head hurt.”

“I’m sorry, I haven’t been given the chance to talk very often. But you didn’t say what happened to you. Are alright?”

Lucius shrugged again, scratching his nose. “I said somethings I shouldn’t have and then ran when she wanted to talk to me. They followed me…I didn’t even make it to the bottleneck. I don’t think they meant to hit me but my leg,” he swallowed, “it doesn’t stop hurting no matter what I do.”

“Why?”

“T-t-they didn’t mean to,” Lucius stammered. “I know they didn’t. One of them shot me and it hit my leg. I-it’s just a graze but it hurts.”

Aurora stiffened at the mention of him being shot, looking down at where the boy still held one hand gingerly over his leg. He whimpered, cutting off the sound into a forced grunt. “I don’t want to d-die here. None of this should have happened and now I’m going to die here-“

“You’re not going to die.”

Lucius looked over at him, tears glittering in his eyes as he sniffled. “Why not?”

“I won’t let you.”

A sound, half between a laugh and a choked sob, sounded from the boy. “I don’t think you can do that.”

“I’ve been here for much longer than you have. Do I look dead to you?”

“No,” Lucius said, wiping his nose, “you look tired.”

“Well, exhaustion and death are two very different things, aren’t they?”

Lucius nodded, looking up at Aurora and cracking something that may have been a smile had it not been halted by the bruising of his face. He extended a hand to the boy, leaning down so Lucius didn’t have to move. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Lucius. Don’t worry about the Dravara. Everything is going to be just fine, alright?”

“Thank you,” Lucius replied softly, reaching up to shake his hand.

“What for?”

“Hope,” the boy answered, “sometimes hope is the best thing you can give.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Small wasn’t the right word to describe her, curly headed and with a smile that echoed her eagerness without her even having to say a word. Petite but not delicate, exceptionally bright judging by the look that sparked in her eyes any time a word was spoken to her. She was, simply put, little with the same expression a child would make when tasting something foul only the wrinkling of her nose, something almost too large for her face, came about when she was smiling.

Insignificant, she decided.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

“You don’t have to say that every time you open your mouth.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not used to all this business yet. You wanted to speak with me?”

“Harriet, how long have you been an officer?”

She was quiet, swallowing while her fingers tapped softly on the arm of the chair she was seated in. “Two years, ma’am.”

“Two years,” repeated Rowena with a nod.

“I-I honestly was surprised you chose me to replace Norton. There were plenty of others who have been here much longer. Alexandra, you know her, don’t you?”

Rowena blinked opening her mouth to speak, to correct her, but the girl spoke first.

“I’m sorry, of course you do. She’s been an officer for…well, I really don’t know how long-“

“Yes, Officer Desoto is wonderful officer, isn’t she? But she would have denied the offer even if I asked. Norton was rather young when he had taken the position before you. I assume you know that, don’t you?”

Harriet nodded slowly, fingers still tapping. “It’s an honor, ma’am, to even be considered. May I ask…why you chose me?”

A smile flickered across Rowena’s lips, watching as her eyes flashed down to the ground.

“I like you, Tuffett.”

“Y-you do? You can call me Harriet, if you’d like-“

“I prefer it this way.”

The girl nodded again. “Of course.”

Rowena smiled. “You show potential. And while you are…young, I like the promise you show me.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Silence.

Insignificant wasn’t the right word either, she decided. She had more importance than she knew, more prominence within the Dravara than she ever could have imagined. The girl was, in every regard, just as innocent and malleable as Daniel had been. Eagerness unrivaled by apprehension to follow orders, a mind left unjaded and grasping for something, anything, to acknowledge them. Though she was unsure of exactly how Harriet would respond, Daniel had been rather useful in the sense he was willing to do most anything she asked.

Validation, that’s what they wanted and there was little they wouldn’t do to get it.

“Is that all you wanted from me?”

“I normally congratulate them, the new officers, I mean. But you’ve already been an officer for two years so I don’t think that would be necessary. Your name was nominated by a number of others, but” she paused, reaching down to lift her glass from the table between them, “I have the final say.”

“Understood-“

“No,” Rowena paused, raising the glass to her lips, “I don’t think you do.”

Harriet frowned, the crinkling of her nose disappearing with the smile that had stayed for much longer than Rowena anticipated it ever would have. “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Nor do I expect you to. You see, the Dravara are a very important institution but I assume you already know this. After all, you’ve been with us for…”

“Ten years,” she quipped, voice rising suddenly. “It will be ten years this spring.”

“Yes, ten years. You must have gathered just how much we do, how much I do, for the rest of the world. We are the one thing standing between their world and ours, between chaos and a balance no other establishment could manage.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand that but-“

“The Dravara are mine to control. It’s a fact and I’m sure we both understand that quiet well, don’t we?” Rowena asked, eyes flashing with the smile on her lips.

Harriet didn’t answer right away, staring down at her hands before her eyes rose cautiously. “Yes, ma’am. And the officers help you in any way we can. But-“

“No, there is nothing else. You will assist me and you will listen to my decisions.”

“Yes,” she paused, chewing her lip, “yes, ma’am.”

She waited, eyes boring through Harriet’s head to where the wheels were turning, sparking with questions that Rowena was fully prepared to smother.

“Would you outline my duties, please?”

Another smile passed across her lips. “Norton organized patrols for me. It’s something I’m admittedly not very good at. You may choose to pass the duty on to someone else or take it up for yourself. I would advise you to choose wisely should you do that though. Few are truly capable of such a feat.”

“I can do it, ma’am.”

“Of course you can,” Rowena purred.

A weak point perhaps, something she had always hated thinking about after nearly losing her life during one rather ordinary seeming outing.

“I’d like for you to look out for flaws within our ranks. There are some who would spread some rather nasty seeming rumors about the Dravara. You know what I mean by that, don’t you? Oh, why am I even asking? Of course you do.”

“Yes,” Harriet agreed. “You mean people who aren’t loyal, I’m assuming. I overheard one of the officers speaking about a boy-“

“There is no boy,” Rowena snapped, voice rising suddenly as her glass slammed down against the table, raising her hand only to wipe away the droplets that had sprung free from her glass.

Harriet looked too far beyond terrified to respond, eyes staring back in shock at the outburst that caught both of them off guard. Rowena shook her head then, sighing. “Excuse me, I apologize for that. But the events you heard about didn’t happen. There was a…misunderstanding and all things have been remedied.”

“Are you alright, ma’am? Would you like me to get you some water-“

“Fine, but do tell me you understand what I’ve told you. I’m sure you do but I’d just like to be sure.”

“I understand completely.”

Rowena leaned forward with the same grin still plastered across her lips, clapping her hands together firmly. “Tuffett, I do believe we are going to get along just fine. After all, you and I will be working very closely together now. I offer my compliments to you on reaching this point, but do keep in mind what I’ve told you. I’m sure you will, won’t you?”

Harriet nodded.

Rowena smiled, reaching for her glass again. “Of course you will.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 25