Melchior shot up from the bed in wide alert. A phantom pain emerged from his sides but disappeared quickly enough. A second later, he relaxed. It was okay. There was no need to worry.
However, that calmness all disappeared in an instant when he realized something crucial.
"Where… the hell am I?!"
It was a lot more distinct than his room. In the sense that it wasn't liveable at all. Damp walls, a flat, rocky bed, a single small window, bars separating him from the rest of the world.
Prison. Mel was in a prison cell.
He collapsed against the bed once more, wondering what could have led to this strange development. Why would he be in here of all places?
Eventually, an answer came to mind.
'They know.'
Zale wasn't an idiot. In the final stretch of the fight against the hound, Melchior hadn't bothered holding back his Spirit energy reserves. And credit to Damjan and Tirun, his reserves were… massive to say the least.
Forget Zale, even Clyde and Andy were likely to have seen the waves of power rolling off his body.
That would connect some things, but it still didn't make any sense to why he was suddenly in a prison cell.
Another answer came to mind, this one, he wasn't as sure of.
'They suspect me of something,'
His mind moved at full speed and a likely scenario came to mind.
'Days ago, Zatanian troops arrive in the town's vicinity. Soon after, famous cripple with possible animosity gains the ability to use Spirit Energy,' he thought, drawing lines in the air to think better.
The story had many holes in many different areas, but that wouldn't matter to people who were looking for something to hold against him.
One of such people being Elias. And as a result, he was in this cell, presumably within the Town Hall.
Presumably. He had no way to prove that any of his conjectures were correct in the first place. So… he had to wait.
And he didn't wait very long.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps approached slowly, accompanied by a rhythmic tapping against the metal bars of the prison cells.
The tapping reduced in number as the person stopped in front of his cell.
Melchior moved to see who it was, hoping in some deep parts of him that it was his father who had just come to take him away from here.
It wasn't.
"Heh, you look like shit." The person spoke.
She tapped the bars, faster this time, humming as she did so. Her long blonde hair floated, seeming to defy the laws of physics itself.
"Who are you?" Mel asked, "I haven't seen you before,"
Clink! Tap~!
"Of course you haven't." The woman said simply.
Her dark dress looked out of place in the grimy prison, but almost at the same time completely in place.
Mel grunted, trying to look past her deadpan answers. "May I have your name, ma'am?"
She passed her tapping and humming, then placed a finger to her black-painted lips in some semblance of thought. Then finally, after a while, she answered.
"Circe."
"Well, Miss Circe, can you please explain what's going on here? Forgive me if I'm a little confused about waking up in a prison cell,"
Tap!
The woman called Circe spoke. This time, it was more than the simple answers from before.
"Your situation is being reviewed by the council at the moment. You are to meet them and plead your case and offer a convincing argument,"
His face twitched.
"Or what?"
Circe grinned for the first time, then drew a hand across her neck in the familiar slitting motion.
"It'll be fun. It's been a while since I've executed anyone."
Melchior shivered the more he stared at the beautiful woman in front. Looks were truly deceiving. She was a full on psycho. Unsuspecting people wouldn't realise what hit them if she decided to use her beauty.
"Why are you here, then?"
Tap! Tap!
"I will be escorting you to ensure you don't try to escape," then she paused, "Oh uhh you can try it though, it'd be a nice excuse to get to cut you down early,"
Melchior rolled his eyes.
'Yeah, right. Like I'm stupid enough to try and do that.'
Circe waved her hands and a key appeared in-between her fingers. She slid it into the key hole and opened the door very slowly, all the while staring at Mel with a conspicuous look.
"Can you quit it, I'm not going to give you a chance to kill me,"
"Aww, pity. I was sure it would work."
'Sure my ass. Even a moron wouldn't try anything!'
He stepped out of the cell under her supervision, making sure his movements couldn't be misinterpreted. As soon as he did that, she begun moving.
"Huh- Wait a minute!" He yelled, running after her, "Aren't you going to handcuff me or something?!"
He cut up to Circe and walked side by side, exasperated by her strangeness.
"Eh? Why would I do that?"
"What do you mean why? Without handcuffs, I could escape at any moment!"
She paused and an expectant expression nearly overcame her face "Are you saying you want to escape?"
"NO!"
"Oh."
She returned back to walking, her disappointment evident quickly.
Melchior was confused. Was it really safe to let such an eccentric person escort prisoners? How strong was she for all worries to be dispelled?
Those thoughts lingered in his mind as they traversed the wide hallways of the Town Hall.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Nothing but the rhythmic tapping of their soles echoed. It was uncomfortable, especially the fact that she managed to sync her footsteps to his.
After a while of the unbearable silence, he spoke.
"How come I've never seen you around town before? It doesn't make sense. I remember everyone that I've ever seen in the town's vicinity,"
Tap!
Circe's red eyes narrowed slightly.
"Going out is hard. I think it's much simpler to stay in and just execute criminals,"
"Do you do a lot of that?"
Her lips twitched "No."
"You are weird," Melchior laughed.
"No, I'm Circe."
"..."
…
"Anyway, crininal boy. We're here."