The dungeon air was thick with dampness, a chill that clung to Seraphina's skin as she moved through the narrow, stone-cold corridors. The sound of her boots echoed sharply against the silence, each step reverberating like a pulse in the stillness. Marielle walked beside her, her posture rigid, yet the faint tension in her movements betrayed the unease Seraphina knew she must feel.
Seraphina's thoughts were sharp, calculated, her mind focused on the man from the night before—the one found unconscious outside the gates. His presence had been an anomaly, something that could not be ignored or left to chance.
They reached the heavy iron door. Marielle knocked once before pushing it open, revealing the dim interior of the cell. The light from the flickering torch outside barely illuminated the figure of the man lying on the cold stone floor. He had been tended to, though the healer's efforts seemed minimal at best—just enough to stabilize him, not enough to answer the many questions he raised.
Seraphina stepped inside, her gaze immediately falling on the man. His dark, tangled hair framed his face, and his simple, stained clothes spoke of someone who had endured hardship. There was nothing remarkable about him, nothing to suggest who he was.
His eyes flickered open at the sound of her approach, confusion clouding his gaze. He stared at her for a long moment, as if trying to understand who she was, and when their eyes locked, a brief flash of uncertainty passed through his features. He seemed to be searching for something, some thread of recognition, but found nothing.
"Where am I?" His voice was weak, rough as though it had been a long time since he last spoke. He pushed himself up on his elbows, struggling to make sense of his surroundings. "What is this place? Who are you?"
Seraphina remained standing, her back straight, her posture unyielding. She did not respond immediately, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. There was nothing in his gaze—no recognition, no flicker of familiarity. Nothing.
"You're in the palace," she replied, her voice devoid of emotion, cold as the dungeon walls themselves. "You were found unconscious outside the gates."
The man blinked at her, still disoriented, his confusion deepening. "I… I don't remember how I got here. I don't remember anything." His voice cracked slightly, as if the words were foreign to him. "I don't even know who I am."
Seraphina's eyes narrowed further, studying his every movement. His confusion was real, but too convenient. She had seen enough to know when someone was hiding something. The question was not whether he was lying, but why he was lying—or if, indeed, he truly had no recollection of his past.
"You don't remember anything?" she asked, her tone sharper now, probing.
He shook his head, his face etched with bewilderment. "I can't remember. I... don't even know why I'm here."
His words seemed genuine, but Seraphina was not one to be easily deceived. There was a deeper layer to his memory loss—she could feel it, a presence lurking behind his words, a mystery waiting to unfold.
She stepped forward, her eyes never leaving him, her voice a quiet command. "You were found outside the gates in the dead of night. Do you know why you were there?"
"I… no. I don't know. I don't remember." His voice was strained now, the effort to recall something clearly painful, but his discomfort only heightened her suspicion.
Seraphina didn't allow him to continue. "Who are you?" Her voice was sharp, unwavering. This was not a question of curiosity; it was a demand for truth.
The man opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came. His lips pressed into a thin line, and it was as though something inside him had blocked his thoughts, leaving him speechless. The silence stretched, heavy and thick between them.
Seraphina's patience was wearing thin, and with one final glance at the man, she turned to Marielle, her eyes cold and commanding. "Get the healer to examine him again," she ordered. "Find out if there's anything physically wrong with his mind. I don't believe he simply lost his memory."
Marielle nodded quickly, though her expression was unreadable, and she stepped forward to tend to the man, who still stared at Seraphina, confusion and fear reflecting in his gaze.
Without another word, Seraphina turned and left the cell. The door creaked shut behind her, and she felt the weight of the encounter press down on her. The man was hiding something, she was certain of it. But for now, she would allow him his silence. His secrets would surface in time.