Chapter Eleven: Prisoners

“Do not let the prisoners escape.”
The deep voice echoed throughout the dark hallway, which had cells on either side. The pale prison guards nodded and saluted their captain, who stood at the entrance to the dungeon with four guards.
The prisoners in question, a girl and a boy who were in separate cells, glared at their captors. The girl, whose name was Ivria, was curled up in the far, dark corner of the cell on a pile of filthy, old straw. A rat’s eyes glittered from a hole in the wall. The sickly sweet smell of rot filled the whole place.
Across the hall from Ivria’s cell was a dirty, empty cell. Well, not completely empty. A skeleton shackled to iron rings in the wall stared with its empty sockets at Ivria. She shuddered and rubbed her own shackles.
“I’ll probably be just the same soon,” she thought. “I can’t believe we got caught. Caught! We’re prisoners in Balorgrah. Captives of the enemies of Trenadonia!” She hung her head and hoped Darien was okay.



In the next cell was a boy named Darien. He was young, like Ivria, maybe thirteen. His wavy black hair was just long enough to fall into his eyes, which is exactly what it was doing. Wiping it away from his eyes left a grimy trail of dirt on his face. Leaning up against the walls of his cell, Darien scowled at the guards and their captain.
Darien’s cell was in most ways the same as Ivria’s, except for the single window. It was about seven feet off the ground and had iron bars in it. Through it came a dim light. All that was visible through it was the sky, which was a bright blue, without a cloud in sight. It was the only shred of hope in that dark, dank hole.
“No warrior of Trenadonia should be caged up in this wretched place,” he muttered under his breath.


“If they escape, it will cost you your lives,” the big captain threatened his guards. With one last withering look at them and directing an evil smile to Darien and Ivria, he turned to walk up the stairs and out of the dungeon. His black cape billowed out behind him. The heavy footsteps were heard echoing off the stone stairs, and the four guards ascended with him. What the captain didn’t see was that, as he left the dungeon, a girl appeared, sprawled at the foot of the stairs.


Dana awoke, her head spinning. She realized she was lying on wet, stone stairs and immediately sat up.
“Where am I?” she thought. Then the smell hit her. The place reeked of rotting flesh, and other things Dana didn’t want to think of. Around the corner, by the light of a flickering torch on the wall, she could see a hallway with what looked like prison cells on either side. Dana stood up on shaky legs and walked slowly toward the cells. The first one on the right contained a ghastly skeleton.
Dana shivered and looked to the other side. A girl was curled up in the darkest corner. Her long, tangled black hair covered half of her face. She was wearing a forest green dress that was short in the front and long in the back, with chain mail underneath. The buckles of her boots glared in the torchlight. No weapons were visible.
When Dana saw the girl, she gave a little start, and the girl looked up. Her hazel eyes were full of despair.
“Who are you?” the girl asked.
“I’m Dana,” said she. “Can you tell me where I am?”
The girl smirked, and Dana detected a faint hint of sarcasm in her reply. “Isn’t it obvious? We are in a dungeon.”
“But…where?” Dana was confused.
A boy looked out of the cell to the left of the girl’s. He was wearing a tunic of forest green color, and had leather pants, chain mail, and black boots. His yellow-orange eyes glittered in the dim light.
“You honestly don’t know?!” he asked Dana in disbelief. She shook her head.
The girl sighed and stood up. Dana could see now that both she and the boy had a strange symbol on the fronts of their clothing. Hastening to explain, the girl spoke up.
“Well, my name is Ivria, and that’s Darien. We’re warriors of Trenadonia, loyal to our captain, Lander. However…we’re also prisoners in the dungeon of Balorgrah. Captives of Valrone.”