Chapter 2-2
Sar's nodded, his pen scratching against the paper as he made notes. Two females stood before him, their faces etched with grief and fear. Both were now single, their husbands lost to Morgan's wrath. The image of those lifeless bodies hanging from the tree still haunted their minds. The cries of men, women, and children filled the air as the fire consumed the village, punishing those who dared to refuse Morgan's demands. Determined to protect their families, these brave women had joined forces, sacrificing their own safety so that others could escape. Their only hope now was to seek shelter in the mountains, among the villagers who had long lived hidden from Morgan's gaze.
As Sar's listened to their harrowing tale, he couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for their resilience. They were ready to face an uncertain future, far away from Morgan's grasp. Underground, just like their ancestors had done for generations, they would find solace and safety.
Desmond nodded back and returned to the shower, which was perfect. Sar's moved up between the four of them, and down. Using her paws and her tail as she bathed them. Letting her tail heal them and with her soft, gentle paws each time she touched them. And when she touched the four of them, it felt like she cuddled them all into her arms like a baby, as she healed and cleaned them all. Until they gleaned inside and out.
She quickly dried them off with a fluffy towel, the fabric absorbing the droplets of water from their bodies. She tenderly draped a warm robe over them, made of soft white fabric that felt like a cloud against their skin. The robe had large snowflakes and two red roses, their vibrant colors standing out against the white backdrop. As they put on the robes, they could feel the warmth enveloping them, like a cozy embrace.
In front of the mirror, Desmond caught a glimpse of his reflection, his face now clean-shaven and freshly groomed. Sar's carefully shaved him, leaving his skin smooth and tingling with the faint scent of aftershave. As she combed and cut his hair, the gentle tugs of the comb and the snip of the scissors created a symphony of sounds, making the experience even more surreal. Looking at the old pictures, Desmond could almost see himself as he used to be before the war, a glimpse of the person he had once been.
In that moment, both Desmond and his father realized that they had forgotten what each other looked like. The months and weeks they had spent inside Morgan's Dark Army and the harsh realities of war had taken their toll. But now, as they stood side by side, they could see the familiar features that had been long buried beneath the weight of time. It felt both comforting and surprising, a rediscovery of their own identities and a reaffirmation of their bond as father and son.
Desmond, with his reddish-brown hair, emitted a faint scent of earthiness. His bright blue eyes gleamed with a hint of sadness, complementing his stern but soft jawline. A narrow nose adorned his face, adding to his delicate features. However, their emaciated bodies resembled mere sticks, a result of the meager rations provided by Morgan and Hess. Desmond's father, now nearly bald, had once suffered from a weevil infestation in his hair. Though the weevil was long gone, his thin and sparse hair remained a testament to his aging. Both father and son, balder and more toothless due to the wrath of the Black Death, were victims of Morgan and Hess' curse. In this prison-like existence, they lived suspended in stasis, with no signs of aging. Yet, amidst the despair, Sar's promised a brighter future, a life far beyond mere existence, for those who had earned it.
The moment Desmond sat down, his father sat next to him, wearing the same robe as his son and the two women. Sar's took her seat next to Desmond. Others started to come out into the dining room from six different directions. Desmond, his father, and the first arrivals notice that the first five hundred had already lessened quite a bit from five hundred to two hundred and fifty. Sar's cringe whispered over to another manservant, and he whispered to another. Coming back with a shake of the head as we watched everyone taking seats in new colorful robes matching their manservants.
The main dining room was vast, its grand dome towering above us, capable of accommodating over two thousand guests. Our party of two hundred and fifty felt minuscule in comparison, like a mere speck amidst the expanse. The room exuded opulence, adorned with glistening white marble, adorned with precious gems, and illuminated by dazzling chandeliers made of white diamonds, casting a radiant glow over the space. As we entered, the aroma of fine cuisine filled the air, enticing our senses. The room had meticulously arranged plush red and gold chairs, creating a fit-for-royalty ambiance and inviting us to take a seat. The tablecloth was crisp white, elegantly dressing the table and adding a touch of sophistication to the setting. Gleaming silver and gold cutlery, delicate glass goblets, and ornate wine decanters adorned the table, promising a truly indulgent experience. And in the corner, towering barrels stood, their corks hinting at the treasures within - a selection of aged liquors, including rich beers, complex whiskey, and centuries-old rum of unparalleled quality.
The tables were laden with food. The meat of every type as well as common and hard to get, as well as their dipping sauces and soups. Freshly baked bread from sweet and sour, just like mum used to make. Cakes, pies, and sweet buns filled with everything you can imagine are served on the tables.
To them, it was a feast compared to what they had been eating over the last few months or even years in Morgan's army. Plus, it felt so good to be so clean again and in clean clothing that actually fit them and smelled so nice. Just for a mere second or two, they wondered if this was the wrong prison altogether. Still, it did not take long to notice that big brutes were sitting together with even bigger manservants. They all wore black robes with enormous baseball bats to get them to settle down, making everyone remember where we were.
The manservants stepped back on each side of them, hearing a bell out of nowhere. Sar's roes tell us to rise in respect as we did what we were told. Until it got further down the line. The worst it got as the manservants had to smack a few grabby hands to wait, growling harshly that said they wouldn't enjoy their punishment. They weren't used to going without, like some of them near the front, until it reached all the way to the brutes. Seeing their table raised out of the way, leaving them with chairs to sit on, but have "chosen" to sit quietly on their knees, head bowed. Seeing the long strains of bloody meat as the meat lies on their lap and their hands held behind their back.
We all knew what we were waiting for; we were waiting for our host and any special guests who wished to join them before or during their last judgment. Those who visit or dare to come make sure they are severely punished yet fairly.
In front of the main seating area was a large platform with eight oversized chairs like those in the main courtroom. The table was draped with a white tablecloth and a golden stripe runner down the middle. Dressed with a large fifteen cascade candlelit, one big one and seven candles falling towards the opposite end. Like their tables, it was filled with food and wines, beers of their favorite type.
Desmond feared if this might be the only time, they would feed them before they slept like the dead for the last time. Seeing all that food as if it were for a king's feast, the likes Desmond and his father have never seen. The situation at the prison has undergone a dramatic transformation since our arrival. It is worth mentioning that out of the five hundred individuals who were part of our group from Morgan's Dark army, a staggering number exceeding two hundred and fifty have gone missing. Furthermore, the previous commotion and activity suddenly stopped, which could be attributed to it being dinner time or because the other members of our group have already evaluated and assigned themselves to their designated cells, leaving Desmond's father in a state of uncertainty about their location and the verdict of their alleged judgment.
It wasn't long before they heard talking as a manservant opened a door from the far left of the dining hall and before they were boxed in with elegant red and black drapery. Seeing the chandeliers turn off in the blink of an eye, the dining room shifts upwards. Watching the drapery disappear, beautiful windows of colorful glass snapping into place without sound.
The room itself was now big enough to fit two hundred and seventyfive guests comfortably, including a bandstand in the corner that wasn't there. Still, now hearing the music as it began to play, the door opened. Even the little beasties had been cleaned up, and their hands left tied behind their back stood their manservants with uncomfortable smiles on their faces. Everyone smiled as the hosts and their guests arrived through the main door, watching two main doors open by two manservants.
Desmond and his father quickly noticed that the large Frog and the Dark Fairy had changed their clothes as they smiled brightly at each of their brothers. Thanking them for the presents that they received. The Frog received a brand-new waistcoat made of Sianthey white seal. Seeing the bone tusk shaped into a hat, placed around the rim, tipped with silver and gold with strange symbols. Wearing a golden redfish as a tie is rare and hard to catch.
Their sister is wearing a soft coat of tiger fur, matching boots and mittens, and a hat to keep her nice and warm. She even got a necklace stringed with the teeth of her enemy. Glazed in gold, with their names graved once they have been killed by her hands. Once they have been judged, and put in the ring of battle. Of which the manservants have gossiped about.
Everyone commented on their new feasting clothes and couldn't wait for tonight's gala. After that, everyone has been sorted. Desmond and his father did not look forward to being sorted, and they guessed nobody here did as they watched the prominent guests come through the door.
There were eight altogether. Four Judges that would judge them tonight for the very last time. Four were members of the Council of Light. The same members out of twelve judged them unfairly but felt they should have a cooling-off period first and were denied. Leaving it to the council here to Judge them since they are the ones that can and do it fairly. For some reason, knowing that did not make them feel better. Sar's whispered that it would be fine and smiled, which seemed to help.
Desmond's keen ears immediately recognized the melodic voices of Lady Gwin and her sister Sheila. Over the past few months, he had both known and seen them countless times during secretive meetings with either them or their father, King Salsern, the esteemed ruler of the kingdom of living water. As the daughters of the King of all Living Water, their presence held great significance.
One of the ladies engaged in their conversation captivated Desmond's attention with her eloquent words. The members of the esteemed High Council of Light, the very same council that had passed judgment on him and his father, exuded an aura of authority. Desmond vividly remembered being the one to sway their vote, but their hurried deliberation left no room for his arguments. The weight of the room was almost palpable, the air thick with tension and intrigue. Lady Gwin and Sheila, with their regal presence, Desmond's heart raced as he absorbed the profound significance of their words. The consequences of their judgment hung heavy in the air; a tangible reminder of the immense power wielded by the High Council of Light. In this moment, he couldn't help but question why King Salsern and his two daughters were here. "So, which ones do you plan to begin with, if I may ask?" Sheila inquired, her golden hair shimmering like spun silk under the soft sunlight. She adorned herself in an elegant red and gold dress, the fabric flowing gracefully with each step she took, complementing it with a delicate white lace necklace that rested gently against her collarbone. As she spoke, her piercing blue eyes mirrored those of her sister, Lady Gwin, who stood beside her, her own presence regal and commanding.
The air carried a faint scent of blooming flowers; The cousins stood amidst a gathering of their party of eight esteemed guests, the murmurs of polite conversation and laughter seamlessly blending with the delicate melody of a string quartet playing in the background. Crystal chandeliers adorned the dining room, casting a warm, inviting glow upon the scene and enhancing the grandeur of the occasion.
In contrast to the lively atmosphere, sat Desmond and his father with the rest of the prisoners, their expressions guarded as they observed the arrival of Sheila and Lady Gwin. Their gazes, however, were nothing more than sly glances, betraying their true thoughts.
Sheila's voice resonated with excitement, her words filled with anticipation as she suggested taking bets and indulging in some longawaited fun. After the arduous task of sorting the guests, they now had an abundance of entertainment to offer, a spectacle to captivate and delight their esteemed company.
The Frog said. "Yes, it has been ages, and I agree, but how do we choose the game for our merriment."
King Salsern said, chuckling, The King of the Sea of all living water. "If we men folk leave it to the ladies to pick the game or the merriment, we will be here a week.
"And what's wrong with that father?" Sheila pouts with two lips puckered, an eyebrow drawn down, and her arms folded over her breast. "We are practically immortal or close to it, so we spend a little time having a little fun with these mongrels that Morgan and Hess have left us with to handle."
The Cougar and the Bear huddle in the corner with King Salsern, the Frog, and other Councilors of light known as Derrick, who had just joined the council two centuries ago and starting out as a member of Death and who watches over the worlds in motion, including this one. The ladies meet in the opposite corner, telling everyone in the room that they can sit down and start eating. Because this could take a while, they wanted to ensure they got a good meal before moving on to the judgment phase.
Thank the Oracles; they were all ravenous and could barely hold a fork or spoon without shoveling it in by the handfuls. The beastly boys did just that, and nobody tried to stop them as they did so, like pigs eating from a trough. Watching them pouring wine and beer, or both, down their mouths. It was repulsive as many of them ate using napkins and were careful not to spill anything onto their nice robes or plates. While they waited for their doom and their game.
Desmond looked up as a manservant placed a card around his neck, then moved down the row with a different number and colored block than Desmond's father. Once the cards were placed. Four tables in the middle were pushed back, as four Jailer boxes were raised from the floor. Four silver-like mirrors and a seat sat above each jailer box and were placed with a writing desk. There was a long line of scoreboards on the side of a larger main table with each of their two hundred and fifty or so numbers on it. No names, just numbers.
The names would come later once the person entered the jailer box.
Each of our manservants asked if they got enough to eat, as they nodded and said thank you and went on down the row getting fewer
"thank you's," and more growls. Hearing words like. "How could you treat us like common peasants when Morgan and Hess gave us far more than this? Where is our King's ransom? Where are our jewels promised when this war is over? We see a tiny sample of what none of us can touch. Including our magic that we have worked centuries to gain."
They were so angered that a few stepped away a safety distance, taunted them to join them, or called them weak and acted like small children not fit to live. Their menservants held them back from them as everything was cleared up and taken away except for their chairs. They sat fifty feet across from them as their manservants lined the sides to ensure they could control things.
Once everyone had taken their seats, The Frog stood up, where they built up a large pulpit, and said. "The game is called four blind mice. You are the mice. We will place each of you in this cage of the Judgement seat. To win your freedom or what your punishment may be, which will give you a chance to lessen your punishment or make better commendations or arrangements for time spent here. Each person with a tagged number will be called and not in the order, the color of their robe, or the name of their tag. The number on the tag will be placed on the board in a slot on these boards of chance. You see up here where you will be asked questions by all of us. As you know, you cannot lie inside the courtroom. However, we are allowing you to lie here, but be pre-warned.
"If you answered the question, and it was a lie but got more than half of us to believe that they doubt it was a lie. Your manservant will pull up that portion of your life to prove whether it's a lie or truth. Each lie told is worth one hundred points of your score, but we will debate whether the lie was necessary.
"If you manage to keep the one hundred points we are granting you at the start, we will provide you with a vibrant green card or a stack of chips. The weight of those chips in your hand is a tangible reminder of their value - one hundred credits that can be spent like pure gold or crisp cash.
The sound of the chips clinking together resonates with promise, echoing through the air of this confined space as the manservant's delivers them each a pouch with the green chips inside. The more green cards or chips you accumulate, the better your chances become. They become your lifeline, shielding you from the loss of another one hundred points and unlocking opportunities to elevate your status within these prison walls.
If you are able to answer a valid question and provide a convincing defense or even fabricate a lie that can be upheld as truth and successfully deceive us, we will graciously offer a generous reward of five hundred chips as a token of appreciation for your efforts. Our intention is to thoroughly explore the intricacies of your life story, so we will embark on a journey into its deepest depths. In addition to that, we have prepared a set of one hundred random questions that aim to delve deeper into your experiences and perspectives. It is your knowledge, your experiences, and your memories that will fill in the blanks, forming the foundation of your defense."
"Then, once all our questions have been answered, we are unsatisfied with where to house you. We will put you on standby on the new board. Since none of us have played this game in a very long time. And we have already sorted out the rest of you, leaving you to our final judgments and the hardest.
Congratulations on making it this far; for those that are left after the game tonight or later on depending on the time, The Frog and his esteemed guest laugh heartily at the joke because time has no meaning here. It stretches endlessly, like a vast expanse of still water. The prisoners, confined within the Cross Bone Gate prison, are oblivious to the humor, their understanding of the world limited by the confines of their cell walls. The Large frog continues to bask in the laughter of his esteemed guest, while the prisoners remain ignorant, unaware of the joke's significance in their little, controlled world. They intentionally left out some things from the catalog of their existence.
Tonight, we will indulge in a grand special dinner in our vibrant ballroom. We will dine ringside, offering an up-close experience for those who wish to immerse themselves in the festivities. As the night progresses, a lively dance floor awaits, inviting guests to twirl and sway to the rhythm of the music. Feel free to mingle and ask questions about the rest of your stay here, as we aim to make your time with us unforgettable and believe me it will be unforgettable by most if not all of you. Unfortunately for those that have lost today and during our little game, there will be plenty of chores for you to do, and I am sure your taskmaster will be more than glad to make sure you do them right before they put you to bed tonight. As we have said, sleep here can last a century or two, depending on the punishment you have earned. Not only today but for your other crimes as well.
"However, if you wish to spend some of those green chips, that would be a good time to do it or wait for the next game where you can fight in the ring. Ask your manservant regarding the details and the training. So let the games begin."
The very moment The Frog said let the games begin. The gems started to glow, and they could feel movement as they looked up, seeing they were moving into three-tier rows stacked on each other. Desmond was now seated by one of the girls he showered with. His father was with one below him next to the other female. He was trying to comfort her, telling her everything would be all right. Desmond, a very shy young man, felt his shyness intensify around girls. This particular situation was even more overwhelming as they bathed together. Desmond couldn't help but feel self-conscious, especially since he was just eighteen, on the verge of turning nineteen. Little did he know, everything was about to change when Morgan entered their lives.
Desmond looked down the rows, noticing very few had the same problem, and many were at the hand-holding and kissing stage and had accepted that their old life was gone forever. Desmond knew it; his father knew it was, but Desmond couldn't. No matter the obstacles in his path, he watched as everything disappeared before his very eyes. The vibrant colors of his joyful childhood faded away, and his anticipation of becoming a man vanished. However, this outcome was far from his expectations, not even remotely close. Despite it all, he couldn't shake off a lingering feeling deep within him, as if time itself had suspended his life and the lives of those around him. The silence hung heavy, accompanied only by the faint scent of uncertainty in the air.
Sar's made her way towards him. Noticing that he wasn't engaging or accepting that she had worked hard to find a good mate for Desmond and his father. To help with the loneliness and the loss they will feel. While being here at the Cross-bone Gate Prison. She had given them hope that when the time comes, they will have a family and the means to care for themselves, and their slate will be wiped clean.
Yet something bothered her, ten of the people she was now assigned to her, their records said they shouldn't have never been sent here. They should have given the greatest awards ever achieved. Upon discovering the truth, she promptly sent them to Court Justus, where they reassured her that everything would be resolved, their words resonating and echoing against the cold stone walls. King Salsern, exuding regal charm, confidently assured that it would all work out, his authoritative voice resonating. However, he offered no explanation, leaving her in a state of confusion. Since he had arrived at the prison, she made up her mind not to allow him to depart without obtaining the answers she needed.
In either case, it was her job to see that they found a good match for all her charges despite Desmond's stubbornness about and around females. She made her way towards them, not letting the gem light or constant movement bother her. She couldn't understand why they kept changing the game design, but there was the rub for the high council and their games. Since nobody was willing to listen, Sar's had some games of her own. In which she will play and win big tonight with her ten-prize pupil.
Sar's moved her tail over in between Desmond the female named Carla with long golden hair. Not the rat nest. It was when she came in, and dirt, bruises, and missing teeth made her look like an old hag. Plus, the starved look they all had. They could remove the sickness Morgan gave them since it never affects the dead, well mostly dead more of a physical death but more transformed. The air was heavy with the scent of decay and lingering magic, a constant reminder of their otherworldly existence. Only the living were affected, trapped in a perpetual state of limbo, their bodies frozen in time, never aging as quickly as they did before coming here. But no amount of magic alone could fix this predicament. One would have to attain immortality to truly find a solution, and as far as she knew, no one in this realm had achieved that state. After their bathing, she spoke to Clara and the others, taking the opportunity to prepare them and provide healing. Clara's bright green eyes, which were brimming with a hint of mischief caught Sar's attention, and her distinctive angular nose, both of which contributed to the overall appeal of her face. Her lips, thin and delicate, curved into one of those perfect smiles that seemed to radiate warmth and intrigue.
She had perfect little hands with long fingers that were more stuck, like from a lack of food. Sar's took her tail and tried lifting Desmond's hand over to Carla's hand. At first, it worked, then jerked back, and he apologized. Sar's was about to whisper in Carla's ear, then smiled when she re-grabbed his hand. "Apology is not accepted, not when a girl like me is scared to Death in regards to what's about to take place. In fact. I am tempted to sit in your lap so you can hold me in your arms as I cry on your shoulders. But we only just met," she said, squeezing his hand.
Desmond's father turned around and said." Son, if I were you, that's an offer I would never reject."
As the thought crossed his mind, Desmond blushed with embarrassment. Being just eight years shy of nineteen didn't do much to improve his luck with girls. Despite her being three years older than him, he remained clueless about to handle the situation. Then, he opened his arms as an open jester. Carla looked around as things were about to take place, watching the first four numbers being called, and then leaped into his seat and held tight to Desmond. Wrapped his arms around her and let her cry in fear if she needed to.
Sar's was happy, she purred in her seat stated everything was working according to her plans. She planned on taking notes of the questions that were being asked. Marking the one hundred questions and starting over, seeing how many were the same and rarely asked.
The game moved quickly as they guessed which ones would move in and the ones that wouldn't. The bad boys were the ones who had left the game entirely, but some of them were surprised to discover that there were about twenty-five of them left, as they had won this level. They will compete again tomorrow. They had won several green cards as they chose a leader among them and their honor guard, just like they had in Morgan's army.
They were not saying that's a good plan unless you have an excellent plan to use it for. Some of them had a plan to free soldiers and people from getting caught in their clutches by building a hidden railway, sending messages, and food supplies to keep their loved ones alive and safe from Morgan and Hess.
There was one hundred and fifty left, as the loud trumpet called the end of the day, meaning it was time to stop working and prepare for afternoon chores for those that had been Judged. Just like the ladies said. They did not care how long it took to play the game; they intended to enjoy themselves.
Sar'ss quickly gathered all ten prize pupils as they followed her out the door and down the stairs. They ran into several of her pals. One of them said. "I still count ten; that means you haven't lost a single pre-judgment, Sar's. Is it because you found a way to cheat the system, or have you bribed the high council? Doesn't matter, really, when they are judged on the last day of the games. When their whole soul is seen before all of us instead of a small portion to test the answer given. Like they say, it all comes out in the wash. Sar'ss cautiously scanned the room, her eyes locking onto Desmond and his father. A wave of discomfort washed over her, knowing that they had just discovered Desmond and his father's name change from Brandywine to Crestwater. The revelation sent shivers down her spine as she grasped the significance of it. Desmond, possibly the Oracle himself, possessed unimaginable power, surpassing even his mother's abilities. The weight of his destiny as one of the Generals of Light and the key to awakening the New White Solon loomed over them all. She prayed for its swift arrival. The revelation had shaken her to the core, and she sensed the fear gripping the others in the room. If Morgan or Hess had learned this truth, the consequences would have been deadly. It was a miracle they had managed to remain hidden within Morgan's camp. The audacity of their deception was almost comical, as neither Hess nor Morgan had a clue about their true identities or the unfolding events right under their noses. The pressing question now was why they were here. Sar'ss knew she needed to speak to King Salsern urgently, as their lives had become a tantalizing prize. The plea for help echoed within her, a desperate plea that needed to be answered.
Sar's smile stood up firm. "I am prepared to double that or triple that bet. If you like, or if anyone here can afford it, As you may know or not know. I have won three gold chests of three million during the first round and another six million during the second round, not including the two million you owe me for today's rounds.
"Now, if you would excuse me. I have duties to attend to before the nightly festivities." Sar's curtsied like the grand lady she was, swiping her tail and letting her thin lacy veil drape over her face. Desmond had to admit it was unnerving to see cats talk and frogs. Let's face it, the entire animal kingdom talks and works like humans do. Yet, after a whole day down here, it was starting to be part of the norm.
Upon receiving the map in-case they got lost along the way and to help them navigate the prison they were in; it soon became apparent to each person. That the distance they had to walk to reach their originally assigned accommodations was twice the length of the information provided by Sar's, their manservant, during their journey to their housing cells at the prison. While making their way, they faced the challenge of navigating through two sets of staircases and an abundance of hallways that branched into an ever-increasing number of hallways. Then, we went to a brown door with two snowflakes and two roses. Sar's opened the door using a small wand tell them this will be their new home for now, according to their file even when Judge.
The only difference is the jobs they will be doing. However, all the money she collects, known as Green cards, goes to them every time they win, and then she gets part of the cut.
For instance, she completely healed them from sickness, missing teeth, and baldness during the bath. They will notice this and regain their health in a few days.
She will train them to fight, hand-to-hand combat, swords, and magic. She will ensure that everyone she is in charge can fight by any means necessary Each green chip they earn will help build the group up, not just themselves. Until they can be released with their loved ones, this time fighting for the right side, knowing who they are and what will be needed when the time comes.
Everyone signed the contract, pointing out that it was fair to give our manservant a portion of our winnings, and she bowed to them as she told us to line up to each of our cells. Desmond choked when he quickly noticed that his father's cell was across from him. He saw one king-size bed with several heart-shaped pillows, a wedding dress, and a black suit in the bedroom window. Through the window, Sar'ss took notice and added, not telling his father it would be changed.
His father nodded as Sar'ss made it up front and said. "I want all of you dressed and ready to be married in 3 hours, allowing you to look over your little cottages, which can be redesigned to your liking; I want you both showered together to save time and for the future experience. If not, I can live with that. And eat a meal together and change into your wedding clothes. If not, I assume you are married and have spoken your vows. I have worked hard to find a mate for each of you.
"Comparing your dislikes, things you love and like to do, and many personality traits. The rest is a leap of faith by an Oracle that was here for a time. Who went into hiding and I am the only one who knows where. You are my sacred ten; you are the chosen I have picked out of ten thousand to represent me. You are the ones everyone has discarded and refused to give a fair trial. Well, now they will have no choice as my ten beautiful prizes shine above the rest. I will give you the means to be great as you help me bring others to the cause and back into the Light that has fallen into the Darkness far too long." With that, she turned towards the cell around and said," Three hours," then closed the door and locked it.
Desmond was not all that shocked; a little more stunned than amazed as Carla looked at each other the moment the cell door closed, locking each other in. Carla shut the inside door and the curtains while turning on the lights. It was far, much better than it was. It made more of a cottage than a cell for us. However, the walls needed a splash of paint, and the floor needed a rug or something better than sandstone floor.
There were no pictures on the wall to make it like a home. Yet there were plenty of swaths and of colors and patterns and books on a small two-person table that tilted to one side, barely enough room for anything to sit a dish on. There was a couch and small chair to sit on, with more patches and spring spitting out of the seat cushions. The curtains themselves were rags.
The kitchen had seen better days, needed paint, and needed a nail or two. It, too, required lots of love, according to Carla. In fact, the whole place needed lots of love. At least the pantry was packed, and the fridge worked. The spacious bathroom accommodated two people comfortably, adorned with tasteful décor. However, it lacked the presence of a shower curtain. In the bedroom, the ambiance was not much improved, save for the inviting bed. Their eyes were drawn to their wedding attire, which was elegantly displayed before them as they entered. The scent of freshly laundered clothes filled the room, and they saw numerous pairs of shoes, pants, shirts, and work attire for both him and Carla. Also, there was this strange wooden cup object that neither of them recognized. Sitting on a peculiar box with some sort of light crystals on it.
Wires were going into the wall, and on the wall near it was a paper with a number on it that matched the cell block, and the last number was Sar's. And work crew It rang like a tiny bell, and Desmond picked up the standup-like thing as he shrugged his shoulders at Carla. The voice he knew was his father. His father said. "Son, are you there?"
Desmond answered. "Yes, where else would I be? I am locked in the same as you. I imagine in some dump that resembles a small cottage. With broken down furniture, no paint on the walls."
His father chuckled. "Son, you are right where you're supposed to be, starting with nothing. You and Carla will be fine; I just called to see how you're doing and wanted to warn you about the plumbing. But it seems you two have it all under control, but Sar's is right. I wouldn't waste the hot water because it becomes ice cold quickly. So if you are shy, I let Carla go first, and you go second. Heat the water on the stove for supper. She will think you were a gentleman and a good man to have around the house. Remember to use what I and your mother taught you, and you will be fine."
His father hung up the speaking device, and Desmond smiled at Carla and said. "Carla, why don't you take a nice shower? My father tells me that the hot water is in short supply. It's one of those things I will have to earn for our family and us. A number one on my to-do list."
She leans in, kisses him on the cheek, gathers some clean towels, begins to undress, and then stops to say. "This is so stupid. We have both already bathed together and will sleep in that bed tonight."