The sounds of screams and loud growls echo into an overwhelming crescendo. Fire runs rampant, and the amplitude sounds of swords clashing break through the screams and growls. Until a figure stands atop a mound lit only by a fire behind it casting the figure in a black silhouette. The little that can be seen of the figure's head began to turn, and the figure's red eyes burned bright. A low deep booming voice spoke a language unknown. Then all sound came to a crashing halt and silence cut through the air. A cold sting rushed through the darkness and awoke Diomede from his unconsciousness. Diomede attempted to open what little he could of his eyes. The swelling of his face hadn't begun to heal and the bones in both his cheeks and jaw still felt shattered. It had been a long time since he felt like this, hurt so much. His healing wasn't optimal any longer due to his absence from combat and the harm of that degree that had been dealt to him. The cold stone that lay under him felt good to press against his face, helping release some of the heat that felt trapped in his cheek. Diomede turned over to his back and let out a painful sigh. He couldn't see much of what was around him, but he knew the ambiance of a cold stone cell tucked away from the outside world of the village, the smell was better than normal though. "Excuse me", a faint voice flew through the dark damp air. "I said Excuse me, sir." Diomede let out an exhausted grunt. "Ah yes, you were beaten fairly well when they brought you in." The voice chuckled, " I was only wondering if you had the time of day?" Diomede spoke a word of foul meaning in another language as he attempted to sit up. " Ah you speak Kutnar? A man well travel I must say." This caught Diomede's attention. "Who?" was the only word he was able to get out without awakening the pain in his face. "Who I am? You ask?" Annoyed, Diomede pushed out a yes. " Oh, I am the famous, well-known grand master of songs, stories, and tales." The voice began to become cheerful and loud, bouncing throughout the dark. " I am Francisco De La Martinez, the famous Nesfundur bard of the Jeweled islands!" A loud voice boomed and echoed down out of the darkness, "SHUT YOUR MOUTH YOU OVERGROWN LIZARD! uNLESS YOU WANT US TO COME DOWN AND TAKE MORE OF YOUR TAIL!" After the vibrations from the voice dissipated, Frincisco spoke in a small light, and soft tone. "It appears I have yet to win their favor. Please tell me are you alright?" Diomede placed his hand on his jaw and began to pull on it. The muffled sounds of crunching and popping sent chills down Francisco's spine. A final clicking pop echoed, it was followed by the groans of contempt and sighs of relief. Diomede finally felt his bones returning to their normal state. He no longer felt rocks under his skin. But his face remained swollen, and his vision still obscure from the swelling. "Dra-Ko-na-Do-rica-Nar-ico" Diomede said. Francisco leaped up to his feet and pushed himself against the iron bars of his cell. "I...I can't believe it! Someone this far north can speak my tongue and in such a fantastic way, as well spoken as if you were raised around it your whole life!" Diomede felt a small spark of pride. "Well, I-" before he could begin to say anything Francisco interrupted, "Except for the root of your sentence, it should be more of a Dro instead of a Do." Diomede felt the spark quickly fade away, as it did it was replaced with a feeling of annoyance again. A small light blinked itself into existence in front of the cell doors between the two prisoners. Diomede stood up to his feet and peered out through his cell bars watching the small light dance in the air. Francisco was holding his hand out and moving his right index finger in a figure eight. "Impressive" Diomede spoke out in a whisper. "Not too many bards can perform soundless light magic, let alone a Nesfundur." Francisco smiled revealing his sharp white teeth. "It is a bit difficult to do but all you have to do is find the right rhythm." Diomede leaned out through spaces in the bars watching the light. It comforts him in a small way. "Now" Francisco whispered, "What are you in for my dear man?" Diomede rested his head against the bars, "For fighting with the commander of the knights and resisting their famous persuasive manners." "Ah" replied Francisco, "Yes I too have seen these manners you speak of." Both men shared a small chuckle between them. "Aren't they keeping a ward to keep track of your casting?" asked Diomede. "Yes they are but my small cast such as this won't set the ward off." "The small waves I am using are on a slightly weaker stream." The small light flew closer to Diomede's face, "Now let me see your injuries, I may not be a man of the cloth but I should be able to ease some of your pain." Diomede raised his head and revealed his face. The swelling that once deformed his face and held his eyes nearly shut was gone and his bones had fully formed back to their normal shape. The only evidence of his beating was his bloodshot eyes and blue bruises that decorated his face. " By the high ones, I Can't believe it, your face was healed in a matter of hours!" The small light grew in size casting a much bigger shine of light. Diomede reared back from the change in brightness. Francisco pulled the light back and from Diomede's face, " I apologize, I am just shocked you healed so quickly." " It is fine, just watch where you float that thing." Francisco had the face of one of the children who would be amazed by the tricks and magic that he had entertained across his travels. "Please tell me how this is so, are you one of the most blessed ones?" Diomede's demeanor changed to embarrassment and regret. "No" He spoke, "I am not, just always been able to health quick." Francisco still amazed frantically looked around his cell, flipping the small pile of hay that rested on the ground. His energy faded after he realized he didn't have his journal or the small notepad he had gotten from a road vendor during his march north of the Blazing Sea. The sounds of movement echoed through the cells and the unlocking of the door that laid at the end of the walkway rang out. "Quick can you cast an illusion?" Diomede frantically asked. "Yes, but it won't last very long." Francisco replied. "Then make me look the way I did when they brought me in, I can't let them know I have healed even this much." Francisco reached out to Diomede "Quick I have to be touching you to cast it" Diomede stretched out his arm, pressing against the bars. The groans and whines from the bars sang and the two reached for one another. Just barely out of reach Francisco was able to touch Diomede's hand. He tapped rhythmically. Diomede felt the spell wash over him and his face pull tight, not in a painful manner but as if a breeze wrapped around his head. Diomede's appearance changed back to what he looked like when he was brought into the cell. Francisco fell back to the wall of his cell and the light that once shined cutting away the darkness faded out. Diomede lay back on the cold stone floor of his cell and closed his eyes. The stomping sound of heavy boots marched down the walkway and stopped in front of Diomede's cell. The jingling of keys and rotation of a lock screamed out. The sounds of two individuals entering the cell grabbed Diomede by both his arms and lifted him against the cell's back wall. Pinning him against it. The sound of two more entered the cell. Diomede tried to deduce between the figures, but before he could begin to he felt the sting of a right hook to his stomach followed by one from a left. One right after another, each hitting harder than the last. His grunts carried over to Francisco who only remained still and prayed the stranger would be able to hold out.