As Rhys and Amara left the dungeon, Rhys decided to escort her to her place.
The night air was crisp, carrying with it the faint hum of the empty kingdom streets below. Rhys walked beside Amara in silence, his sharp gaze scanning their surroundings for any signs of trouble. Amara clutched her shawl tighter around her shoulders, her steps quiet yet purposeful as they approached her living quarters.
"Here we are," she said softly, unlocking the wooden door. She turned to Rhys, a small smile playing on her lips. "Would you like to come in for a glass of water? Or…" she hesitated, her smile widening mischievously, "…maybe wine?"
Rhys raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "You drink?" he asked, the disbelief evident in his voice.
Amara giggled, her laughter light and unrestrained. "Of course, General. Scholars aren't as boring as you might think." She pushed the door open, motioning for him to enter.
Once inside, she kicked off her boots and immediately crouched down, tugging at Rhys's boots with a playful determination. "Here, let me help you with these," she said.
Rhys hesitated for a moment, then allowed her to proceed, chuckling softly at her unexpected hospitality. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"
As he stepped further into the room, his eyes swept over the interior. The space was small but brimming with life. Books were stacked haphazardly on every available surface, maps were pinned to the walls, and intricate drawings of symbols and landscapes were scattered across a wooden table. It was a scholar's haven, filled with the unmistakable scent of parchment and ink.
But what caught his attention was a small, ornate box resting on a corner shelf, locked with a delicate clasp. His curiosity piqued, Rhys pointed to it. "What's in there?" he asked.
Amara froze for a moment, her playful demeanor fading into something more reserved. She glanced at the box, then back at Rhys, her expression cautious. "It's… nothing important," she said, her tone unconvincing.
Rhys crossed his arms, leaning against the table. "You're a terrible liar, Amara. If it's nothing, then why hesitate?"
She sighed, walking over to the shelf. Her fingers lingered on the box's lid before she finally opened it, revealing its contents. Inside lay an assortment of small, oddly shaped knives, each intricately engraved with runes. Alongside them were bottles of vials filled with colorful liquids, each marked with symbols resembling different animals. A wolf, a hawk, or a serpent.
Rhys's brows furrowed as he examined the collection. "What is all this?" he asked, his voice low with curiosity.
Amara sat down, tracing her fingers over one of the vials. "It's an heirloom," she said quietly. "Passed down through my family for generations. They're relics of old traditions. My family believed they held power, that each one was tied to the creatures of this world."
She paused, her eyes distant. "But none of that matters now. My family is gone. I'm the last one left." she closed the box with a defeated determination as if she alone has to carry all the burdens herself although she doesn't think if she has the strength it takes to.
Rhys's expression softened. "You're an orphan?" he asked gently.
Amara nodded, a faint smile touching her lips. "My parents died when I was young. My mentor took me in, raised me, taught me everything I know about history, and myths."
She looked up at Rhys, her gaze steady. "I thought he was piqued by my curiosity."
Rhys was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on her. Then he reached for one of the vials on the table. The liquid inside shimmered, shifting colors as it caught the glow of the nearby candle. "And this? What is it for ?"
Amara smiled faintly. "For healing or…" She hesitated before adding, "It was meant to be used on animal but a rare specie or an hybrid."
Rhys set the vial back, his expression thoughtful. "You've been through a lot," he said finally. "More than most people would ever guess, looking at you."
Amara laughed softly, though there was a trace of sadness in the sound. "We all carry our burdens, don't we?"
Rhys nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he straightened up. "Well," he said, his tone shifting, "you've given me a lot to think about. But you should get some rest. And the wine..." He trailed off" I will get it on the next time". He chuckled.
Amara stood. "Thank you, Rhys," she said, her voice sincere. "For listening."
He gave her a small, crooked smile. "Anytime, scholar. Just… try to stay out of trouble, will you?"
As he left her quarters, the weight of their conversation lingered in the air, a quiet reminder of the secrets and struggles that bound them together as the companions of solaran kingdom.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
The night passed in restless contemplation for Amara. After Rhys left, she found herself seated by the dim candlelight, her fingers absently tracing the edges of her pendant. The mysterious man from the desert loomed in her thoughts like a shadow, his cryptic warning swirling in her mind. She questioned everything—his existence, his intentions. Was he a mirage conjured by the Firelands, or a real threat cloaked in mystery? They had reached the kingdom, but nothing catastrophic had occurred… yet.
Morning came with chaos.
The first tremor shook the dungeon walls like the distant rumble of a storm. Amara jolted awake in her chambers. She hurried to dress, her heart racing as she tied her boots and grabbed her shawl. By the time she reached the castle, the faint cries of the soldiers met her ears.
In the dungeon below, soldiers scrambled as the beast thrashed against its chains. Sparks flew as its fiery claws scraped against the iron restraints, the metal glowing red-hot under its touch.
The once-glowing beast now looked frail, its fiery mane dimmed to a faint ember. Its body quivered with exhaustion, and yet, its spirit remained unbroken.
"Hold it down!" a soldier shouted, his voice shaking as he motioned for the others to activate the terrorizers.
Large, ominous machines lined the dungeon walls, designed to emit high-pitched frequencies that could subdue even the most dangerous creatures. With a deafening hum, the machines activated, sending waves of sound toward the beast.
The effect was immediate. The beast let out a wail that pierced the air, its body collapsing under the weight of the noise. Amara winced, clutching her ears as she stood at the edge of the dungeon entrance. The sound was unbearable, a cry of pure agony that echoed through every corner of the castle.
She couldn't take it anymore. Ignoring the protests of the guards, she ran down into the dungeon.
Inside, the air was suffocatingly hot, the residual heat from the beast's body clinging to the stone walls. The soldiers were visibly terrified, their weapons raised but their hands trembling. Amara's heart broke as she saw the beast lying on the cold floor, its breath shallow.
"Lady Amara!" The voice startled her. She looked to see the prince among the soldiers.
"What are you doing here ?!" he questioned, striding toward her. His tone was sharp, reverberating. He observed her with such a scrutiny before his voice changed into a softy one. "Well... since you are here, scholar, maybe...you can tell us why this beast is acting this way. Mhh..?" He asked with an air of authority.
Amara squared her shoulders, forcing herself to remain calm. "What way, Your Highness?"
The prince gestured toward the beast, his eyes narrowing. " Why hasn't it tried to escape? And why Is it weakening like this?. Surely you know something about creatures like this."
Amara hesitated, her mind racing. She didn't know the answers the prince was seeking for, or whether he was looking for answers at all or maybe... his intention was only taunting her.
"The beast…" she said "it's weakening because it has been out of it's home and she's–"
Before she finished, the prince cut her off. "That's not good enough. We need something...concrete" he was frowning, clearly dissatisfied with her answer. Even Amara couldn't believe his reaction. If he wanted more detailed answers, he could have given her more time to explain.
" She's pregnant, enough with terrorizers" she muttered, although she knew that the prince won't listen.
She felt a little discomfort in her heart as she stared at the beast who laid on the cold stone floor of the dungeon, chained and terrorized.
"What did you say ?!"
"I said, stop torturing it"
The prince stepped forward, closer to her.
Before she could process what he was about to do, the prince grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him.
"Enough of this," he said sharply. "Whatever connection you think you have with it, forget it."
He stared at her face, his piercing blue orbs drilling holes on her.
"This thing is a means to an end, nothing more." he added.
Amara yanked her arm free, glaring at him. "You don't understand," she said, her voice firm.
" Well...I don't wish to."
The prince turned his head to the guards. "Keep her out of the dungeon," he ordered. "And keep the beast subdued."
He turned his face towards her and with a smirk he stepped away and left.
Amara watched him leave, her fists clenched at her sides. She couldn't stop thinking that the prince's ignorance, one day may doom them all.