My heart pounded nervously as I approached. The design on the door left me speechless, if not questioning the possibility of having gone completely mad. I stared as the wooden flowers bloomed from buds into beautiful rose-like blossoms. Even the vines they grew on seemed to move and twist right before my eyes, stretching along the edge of the door, bordering it in splendid wonder.
The man in front of me paused for just a moment, gripped the handles, and then pushed the doors open. Directly across from us sat another fireplace, roaring with life and filling the room with heat. It brushed my cheeks in a warm caress. The mantel and hearth were carved from the wall and held a strange and curious design. I moved closer to get a better peek of the images, finding wolves standing on their hind legs with their paws outstretched toward the mantle. Trees sprouted up from the background with their tops reaching out above the fire, daring the flames to lick them.
My attention moved from there to the large canopy bed to the left of the fireplace. The four posts were also carved like tree trunks growing from the stone, and the branches from each twisted together to form the top. Thin white sheers draped from the top, lightly dusting the floor with darker, thicker drapes curving down and tied together at the foot and head of the bed. A headboard, which sealed two of the posts, held the depiction of an extremely large tree moving with a life of its own. Each delicate leaf, branch, and blade of grass moved with an unseen and unfelt force as the leaves fell from the tree to the surface of the bed, disappearing before they touched. I stepped closer, pulled by the magnificence of the display.
Aware of my fascination and the apparent enchantment this place had on me, I turned toward the man whose face still hid under the hood of his robes. “Magic no longer exists. How is this possible?”
“Believe it or not, this is your room now. The Master requests you spend most of your time in here. As you can see, you have everything you might desire. But should there be more you need, it will be given. All you have to do is ask. My name is Enid.”
My smile faded. I didn’t realize I had been smiling in the first place. This was supposed to be safer, according to him, and yet it seemed as though I’d exchanged one prison for another. Given the circumstances, this place fared much better than the Cyrs, but why did I have to live in a room? Finally, I nodded, wanting to collapse on the floor and cry but praying my wobbling legs would hold out for just a while longer.
He gestured toward the bed. “There is a change of clothes for you on the bench at the foot of your bed. Someone will be coming up momentarily to bring you food and take your old clothes.”
I nodded again, forcing the tears to stay at bay.
Enid bowed his head slightly. “Enjoy your stay with us, A’lainn.”
He turned on his heels then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“Yes, enjoy your stay in prison, A’lainn. What is A’lainn supposed to mean anyway?” I muttered under my breath and crossed my arms over my chest. I shifted my gaze to the clean clothes folded neatly on the bench. Urged by curiosity, I decided to inspect them. I held up the first piece, a halter bodice. Not badly made and stained dark brown. The next was a pair of pants, seemingly made from expensive black cloth. They tied with a matching lace at the waist. Last, was a pair of soft leather boots, also dark brown and showed signs of age. Underneath everything lay a set of black robes, like those Enid wore, folded neatly.
“Well, at least whoever he is knows what I like to wear.”
That forced a thought into my mind…they had been watching me, keeping an eye out for the perfect moment to grab me. Rescue me. I should’ve been more afraid, or try to fight my way out, but for some reason, I believed I was safe.
I slipped out of the old, dingy, rot-soaked clothing I wore for the new clothes. The bodice and pants laced up nicely, and the boots easily slipped on. I left my old clothes where they fell on the floor, forgetting them as my eyes were drawn to the robes again. I wanted to touch their softness. To see if they compared to the softness of the hands that had held mine. Just as I reached out my hand, a knock filled the room.
I turned my attention to the door, waiting for whoever it was to come in. When they didn’t, I called out, “Yes?”
The doors opened to a woman bringing in a rolling cart with a covered plate and mug. She had dark skin, like the color one would be after spending their life in the sun. Her black hair was cut short with the ends barely grazing her shoulders. She wore a plain, long dress that suited her curvy figure. The sleeves hugged her arms down to her wrists.