The sun shining in from the small arrow slit was his only indication that there was a world outside of this room. Not that the room was particularly drab or dreary. On the contrary. The room was, by all accounts, plush. It was large enough to make the massive four-poster bed look small. A writing desk that could be considered a supper table stood in one corner, and a massive, mostly empty armoire sat in another.

Great tapestries depicting wild hunts of strange creatures hung from the walls, and floor standing candleholders provided light, thought with a short supply of candles, they were a feeble attempt to beat back the darkness, especially at night.

So Ulfnar spent most of his time staring out the arrow slit. Because of its short field of view, there wasn’t much to see; only a small amount of greenery, a beach and the ocean. Mostly he watched the animals. Dogs, foxes, and squirrels frequented the beach, chasing away the seagulls and pelicans, occasionally they would catch their meal, and fight among themselves for the honor of eating it.

If he was lucky, a pod of whales or dolphins would swim across his view. They were massive, majestic creatures. The dolphins would play among themselves and would frequently be found chasing the occasional ship that passed by.

When he first arrived at the tower, he would yell out at the ships, hoping to be heard, but it was no use; they were too far away to hear, and would be reluctant to intervene besides. They just kept sailing by, past the tower, away to destinations unknown. He longed to be sailing with them.

He still had no idea where he was, or the identity of his captor. After being taken aboard Commodore Tyrec’s vessel, he was stowed below for at least two weeks by his count. He had to admit though that the dank and dark conditions of the hold weren’t particularly conducive to counting sunrises, so he counted meals instead, though he had been fed on an irregular schedule.

When the boat docked, they covered his head in a sack, unloaded him like cargo and threw him into a carriage. After a long and bumpy ride, he was brought here, head still covered in a sack. He was led up a long staircase by several men. Led might be a polite term. Considering the difficulty of a blind man navigating the stairs, he was essentially dragged. They only removed the sack once he had been deposited in this room.

His captors had provided him with ample food, wine, and writing materials, but no company. The only human interaction he’d had in the last two years was the jailors bringing him food and replacing his chamber pot. They only grunted when asked questions and shoved him back if he got too close to the door.

The only company he had was a bookshelf full of books and a small doll that had been left behind by the room’s previous occupant. He named the doll Lina. She wasn’t the best conversationalist, but he endured her vacant eyes and rude comments just to have someone to talk to.

He wrote letters to everyone he could think of. His father, his mother, Aeolwyn, Jeolm, even his brother Alfyn. The guards dutifully took the letters, but whether they sent them was unclear. What was clear was that he didn’t ever receive a response.

Sometimes he would write his own responses, mostly from his family. He kept them in the desk drawer and would bring them out and read them when he felt lonely. His mother tells him that Aeolwyn is doing very well at Fort Camulan and misses him a great deal. Fillya has promised to come visit him when she can, and his father is planning to send an army to rescue him.

Wolfryn writes that he has already put together a group of men who are making their way to the tower and they should be there within a fortnight. Of course, Ulfnar wrote that almost a year ago, and there still was no sign of him or his father’s army. But it was still comforting to read.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

‘You could just hang yourself,’ Lina said suddenly. The doll knew of his loneliness and was of the belief that neither of them would ever see the outside world ever again.

“We’ve been over this Lina,” he replied. “How exactly would we do that?”

‘The sheets, numskull. Just throw them over the rafters, climb onto the desk, and jump!’

He walked over to the bed and grabbed her, bringing her close to his face. Sometimes he just wanted to throttle the life out of her, but he knew that would be no use. She was just a doll. The best he could do would be to throw her out the arrow slit and let her fall to her doom.

He wouldn’t, though. He couldn’t bear to be without her company.

“What happened last time we tried that? Do you remember?”

‘The sheet ripped,’ she said. ‘But one failure is no reason to give up trying.’

“I’m not going to hang myself,” he said. “And why are you so mean? Aren’t you supposed to be happy and comforting?”

‘The smile on my face is just an illusion.’

He had been the one to put the smile on her face. He couldn’t stand the fact that she stared at him with no mouth and blank eyes. The smile made her seem less judgmental. It didn’t change her personality though. She was just as angry as ever.

Not that she was always encouraging Ulfnar’s suicide. She could show great moments of tenderness, especially when he was feeling the worst. It had been her idea to write the answers from his family, and she had been right. It did help. He just wished she was always like that.

“How long have we been in here?” he asked.

‘Two years, if your reckoning is right.’

Two years. Two years with almost no interaction. He’d had no contact with the outside world; he had no idea what was happening out there. As far as he knew, Aeolwyn could already be dead. He hoped not. He hoped that his little brother was as strong and resourceful as Ulfnar himself was. And why wouldn’t he be? They were kin, after all.

“How long have you been here, Lina?”

‘I never counted the years until you came,’ she said. ‘But it’s been a long time.’

A long time. He knew better than to ask what he really wanted to know – what happened to her owner. He hoped that Lina was just forgotten. Not that she would know what would happen. She was, after all, just a doll.

“I wish we knew who was keeping us here.”

‘You could always ask.’

He threw his head back and laughed. Ask she says. Like it was that easy. Like he hadn’t asked a hundred times already and only received grunts in response. Like he hadn’t tried to slip out the door when it was opened. The scar on his cheek had dissuaded him of that notion. At least for now.

“Maybe we can go through the events again.”

‘Oh, yay,’ Lina said.

“Our only bit of information is Commodore Tyrec. A well-dressed ship’s captain who Jeolm was clearly afraid of. He introduced himself as a commander and not a captain, so we know that he was in charge of more than that one ship.

“Also, since he introduced himself as Commodore Tyrec and not Lord Tyrec or whatever, we can assume he isn’t of noble birth. The fact that he recognized me immediately though suggests that he is connected to the nobility somewhere, either by his employer, or something else. And since he knew what ship I was on, he certainly has some connections in the Docks.”

‘And all that means what?’

“Absolutely nothing,” Ulfnar said. “The only thing I can go on is his strange accent, but that could mean anything. Any noble from anywhere could have hired someone from a faraway land. They probably would prefer it that way. And even if that wasn’t the case, the fact that he was a sailor could mean he came from anywhere and moved to Teorton. It’s just impossible to tell.”

He had been around and around on this hundreds of times already. Lina had listened patiently every time he went through it. They still hadn’t come to any conclusion on who had been holding him captive, or why. He’d just dumped him in this tower and left him here to rot for the last two years.

At least they hadn’t tortured him. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Leaving him here without any access to human interaction or news of the outside world was as much a torture as burning his eyes out with a hot poker.

Still, he endured. He had to. He was still planning his escape. Eventually one of the guards would get complacent and leave the door open or leave something behind that he could use as a weapon. He just had to sit, watch, and bide his time.