Mizrak rolled across cold stone floors . He yawned, blinking away the sleepiness from his eyes. The cell was dark, barely lit by a single candle that burned feebly on a wooden table two feet from iron bars.
He couldn't see much, so it came as a surprise to him when the rattling of chains sounded from the cell next to his.
"Another prisoner, aye?" a woman's voice called.
Mizrak didn't answer, preferring to keep silent in case there were guards outside. The bastards always looked for excuses to beat prisoners up... He wasn't going to give them one.
"Wise of you," the woman said. "Do you know why you're here?"
That made Mizrak think. He had no idea why he was in the King of Ardwen's dungeons. He could tell as much from the design of the cell. The Ards liked to treat their prisoners roughly — assert their superiority.
"It's because you've either offended the Crown," the woman paused, "Or you were foolish enough to participate in a riot against the nobles like me."
Mizrak didn't think it was either of the two, but he couldn't be sure. He had lost all his memories of the past one week.
He needed information and he knew just where to find it.
"A riot against the nobles?" Mizrak asked.
"You must not be from here if you don't know that much," the woman smiled with her voice.
"No," he lied. "I'm from Hagrid. My father is a wealthy merchant. I came here to do trade on his behalf."
Chains rattled some more, as if the woman was deciding whether or not to continue speaking to him when he'd revealed he came from a "wealthy family."
Eventually, she spoke again, "The riots began a month ago when the nobles started to thieve from us peasants in broad daylight as if they aren't already wealthy enough.
"First, it was increased taxes and additional fees for passes to enter the kingdom, then those greedy bastards started buying food from the farmers and selling it back to us at absurd prices.
"The King of course turned a blind eye to this all, so we took the matter into our own hands. It ended badly — the riots.
"At first, we were reluctant to challenge the nobles' authority, but the situation quickly worsened and we couldn't take it anymore. We started demanding fair play from the nobles in organized and nonviolent protests, but they just ignored us. So we resulted to riots — thought it would make them hear us. But no, their bloody guards just beat us and threw us in prison."
Mizrak listened, paying attention to her story. He already knew that the nobles in Ardwen were ruthless and corrupt, but he'd never thought they'd take things this far. And the King was no king if he could not successfully control all of his subjects. But the fact remained that he didn't care. He didn't care about any one of them — the King, the nobles, the peasants. He only cared about himself and escaping from this dark cell he'd been thrown into for reasons he didn't even know.