I did not remain long within the corridors of my memories - a pounding headache awakened me shortly thereafter.

Immediately, through the pain that cried out of my aching limbs, the darkness pressed down heavily through the place. The room was empty, with neither a slant nor a sliver of light to aid me and my eyes were bleary from sleep as the cold hard ground scraped against my legs.

My heart saw fit to relocate to my skull, pounding away to the sound of an immaterial drum. I was groggy and my head spun and bounced in time to that irate beat, unable to see anything for those first few moments. All I can recall now of that incident, years later, were the waves of pain that eroded my attention.

I touched my brow, aching in pain; or, at least, I tried to.

The distinct clanking of metal reverberated around the room. Cold metal dug into my wrists, suspended on the wall where I sat and, for all my awareness, I had not yet realised I was chained to the wall.

'How riveting,' I thought to myself.

I peered through the blackness, squinting in the void that surrounded me; it was hard to make anything out, as the heavy silence drained the life from my very bones. The bars in front of me were grimy, with what I thought to be small patches of moss and lichens peeking through some of the stones. Beyond that, the gaping darkness. Clinking chains, pained groans and ominous echoes of the wind were my only companions in that desperate place and the scent of wet stone filled my nose, like the scent of rain but rotten with waste.

The worst part of it all was the cold, the biting cold; it seeped into my bones, eating away at any warmth I held. My skin was frozen over from the chill, pricking up into gooseflesh. The walls and the stones were cold as ice, colder than ice. I felt groggy and dizzy, my head spinning, but I could neither lay down, nor curl up into a ball. I was left against that wall, outstretched, left to freeze to death.

Eliza...

And yet, somehow that still, small voice brought me some comfort. Was I losing my sanity, perhaps?

What happened?

...

No answer.

What will they do to me?

...

Still no answer. I tried once more.

Where am I?

Eliza... You seek... the wrong answers...

No matter what questions I asked after that, it went silent. Perhaps this voice was not as useful as I had first imagined. Eventually, I gave up, succumbing to the splitting headache: it would not be long before I got my answers.

Take courage, child... All is not... lost yet...

[...]

I did not know how much time had passed since then.

From my memories, I do not recall any windows to tell the days, nor lights or even guard rotations, nothing. It was as abysmal a place as the Temple of Ahavet, with the oppressive and solemn silence that permeated every single fibre of the communal hall. The only real difference I saw between the two was that while I could depart from the Temple at any point I wished, the same could not be said for the dungeon.

Where is Adri? Aspen? Would they even care?

My thoughts were racing around my head when I came to earlier, but now they were slow and sluggish. It was difficult for me to even focus on one thing at any given point in time.

Probably not. She called you insufferable, did she not? Come to think of it, you've only known the old crow for a few days now too. There ought to be no reason for him to show up.

A long time passed where I could only breathe in the cold, damp air. I lost all feeling in my arms and I could feel the angry sting of hunger that bit at my side. There was nothing to do in that dark space for as long as I could tell. There was no inch of the cold ground that comforted me, nor any light to give me hope. It was dark and cold and cramped and dreary.

Eventually, I fell into a state where I could neither sleep nor stay awake. I was barely breathing at that stage, my mind hanging on by a thread to the reality of the room I was in. Breaths came out in short pants, painting the air with a steamy fog that disappeared with the chill of the air. Strange shapes crawled around as shadows and spectres moulded together in the darkness with that ever persistent clanking of metal chains and weary groans of pain. The mildew was rancid with the cold wet stone, making my head spin with nausea.

I had lost all feeling in my arms, hanging limp by my sides, by the time anything happened.

How much longer must I wait?

A loud reverberating boom echoed around the cavernous space. It sounded hollow and empty, but perhaps that might've just been the state of my mind when it boomed. I could not tell how large the space was, but the sound was louder than I had thought.

Light streamed in to blind my eyes, a pale yellow glow, as footsteps descended down the steps onto the mulchy ground. Voices seemed to float in and out of the room, but I could see nothing.

Were there four of them -ugh...

...No, it sounds like two.

The pain of the light tore at my head, making my thoughts hurt, as the bars of iron turned into snakes and slithered around in front of my eyes.

"Get up."

The sudden command split my skull. The girl's voice was too loud, too harsh and too intrusive for my state. I felt rough fingers rip off the chains from my wrists, then I was dragged over a carpet of stone before being tossed over a man's shoulder.

We were going somewhere, but I had no idea. I began to fear again. What would become of me?

Pain tore at my sides as I lay there helplessly. The sway was enough to make me sick, but I had not eaten anything since that night at the inn. I could not see anything at all, keeping my eyes closed; the brightness of the outside world had scored my pupils and made them ache at anything I peered at.

It sounded like wooden flooring and the air smelt fresher, more open, but I doubt the description would be of much use.

I was dumped unceremoniously onto a thick carpet, the softness of the fabric caressing my skin. Curling up was the only thing I could do when my muscles ached and groaned in pain and my rib was the least of my worries.

By the time my eyes had adjusted to the light, a figure sat up on a chair in front of me. The room was clean and smelled fresh despite the closed windows. Banners hung along the wall, reds and oranges and yellows with black butterflies all over it.

From what I could tell, the figure in the chair was a woman, sitting casually, with a hood over her face and knives strapped to either thigh. Delicately, she traced the edge of a long knife, watching the light glint on its surface as if mesmerised.

Surely Aspen would love her; she seems rather taken with those blades.

She felt disconcerting to me, making my skin bubble up like gooseflesh. She did not look in my direction for a long time, although it had been more than several minutes since the man and the girl brought me here.

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That long silence was tinged with a small thrum, echoing with grief through the empty chambers. I could do nothing but breathe heavily, hoping, praying for something to change... but nothing would. Fear and panic gave way to a still, small sorrow I could not understand, bitterness replaced by a queer longing for something that I never felt before. Yet amidst these emotions, I recognised none as my own. They were none of mine, but I felt them all the same.

Fayer... guide her...

The small voice in my mind began to summon the saint of wisdom in the midst of my suffering and, for all my confusion, I allowed it - Oberon knew how much I required guidance right in that moment.

The woman seated before me had still not yet spoken, though it had been several moments. The only sounds in the room were the flickering of torches, the heavy breathing of the man behind me and my own panting on the floor. As I watched her unflinching figure, it was as if I was staring at Mother again, with her deep gaze and her motionless form.

I want to go home.

Mother's own face came to mind and I was suddenly overwhelmed by a heavy longing, overpowering those foreign emotions until all I could feel was my desire for my mother. Even her angry disappointment and all the hosts of her punishments were better than being here.

Do not... go back...

I want to; I don't want to be here!

You... must not...

Please, just let me go back. I shall behave, I will obey Mother, I'll do anything. Just let me go...

You must go ahead...

"Why do you cry, child?" The figure's voice finally broke the silence.

I had not noticed that in the battle raging in my mind, several tears had leaked out to stain the carpet underneath me.

"Ah... I apologise. I broke my rib." I rasped out, heaving to alleviate the dull pain in my side.

She hummed.

The girl behind me shuffled slightly, clearing her throat.

The woman turned to face her, waving a hand for her to continue.

"Mistress, I mean no disrespect, but when shall we see our payment?"

She tilted her head.

"It's just that... y- you promised us to find Vix." The girl stammered.

"I did."

"Yes, but when shall we find him?"

The man grunted, "Mistress, we do need him. He is our leader."

The woman remained silent, watching them.

Eliza... do not... speak...

The voice cautioned me carefully, leading me to simply watch the scene from the floor. For all my years, I had never once been kidnapped, never once thrown to the ground, never once ignored at my status, much less treated like this.

The absolute gall they had. Father would never let them live if he were here.

Snapping back to the scene, I watched, straining my head as the pair behind me spoke in unison, pleading with the figure to save this Vix. The name began to strike a bell in my head.

The woman did not respond to either of them.

Vix... do I know him?

She put up a hand, silencing the two.

"I did promise to find him," the pair seemed to glow at her words before she cut them off, "BUT I never told you to starve the child."

"But she's one of them! She is a vermin! Why should we treat her any better than what she already is when our own suffer much worse?!"

"That is my decision to make."

"But Mistress-"

A sudden woosh permeated the air, cutting her words off. A low thud followed, then fairly soon, I felt a warm, gooey liquid stain my fingers.

The man began to gag, "Why would you-"

Another woosh, another thud.

More warm liquid seeped through my clothes. Fear began to thrum again in my veins, clawing its way to my throat. This fear was far greater than anything Marcus could ever force into my being, but one a mouse feels when faced with a hawk. That dangerous Fear loomed overhead, forcing my heart to beat harder.

More liquid crept along my side, prickling the skin.

The woman had two less daggers on her thighs.

What did she do...?

A pungent odour, sharp with the tinge of metal, filled my lungs. I gagged.

"Now then, where were we?"

Her voice did not even seem shaken.

"What did... you do?" I could barely breathe out the words, struggling to bring them to the surface. My breaths came out in short pants, skin pricking up as I felt the cloth on my skin become wet.

She tilted her head again, gesturing behind me.

As I slowly turned to face behind me, my breath quickened. Horror gnawed at my bones, freezing the marrow solid. I nearly threw up then.

Behind me, covered in blood, were two bodies lying side by side, face down - a huge man, tall as a tree, and a swallow of a girl. Both had blades that protruded from their skulls, still thrumming slightly with a dying heartbeat. Blood coated the ground, painted their open eyes red, turned the carpet into a dark, sopping puddle. I could still see one of the blood vessels hang limply at the back of the man's skull, weakly pulsing before going still.

A scream tore through the thick silence. The vague sensation of scraping skin felt far in the distance. I had not noticed that I was the one screaming and prying myself away from the two bodies until I felt my throat suddenly go out and saw a trail of blood lead from them to me.

I looked down.

Their blood coated my shoes, my hands and splatters of blood had sprayed all over me. I was covered in blood.

The woman slowly stood up, sauntering her way toward me like a wolf stalking its prey. I could do nothing as I lay there in shock.

What had she done? What will she do to me? I want to go home. I want Mother. Father, save me. Please... Anyone...

She crouched down, tilting my head to meet her gaze with another blade in hand. I choked down a sob, forcing myself into that present.

"Eliza Vivienne Von Hestion. Pay attention, lest you follow their footsteps," She stood up again, "I am not one to tolerate disobedience."

"I... I see..." I could not manage any more than that.

She sat back on her chair. I had not noticed how many people were in the rafters of the room until I heard a small shuffle above me. They were all there, watching.

The blood had cooled on my skin, forcing me to stiffen.

It is odd to me and still perplexes me to this day. She knew my full name well enough, and addressed me by name instead of title first. It was clear she did not abide by protocol, yet her mannerisms were so like those of the nobility that I doubted myself again and again. I felt disgusted by her as well, and I still do whenever the memory arises; the woman made my mother seem like a house plant, albeit a prickly house plant, but harmless nonetheless.

As she gazed down at me from her perch, I recognised what the voice in my soul had been trying to warn me: that woman was wicked. She had no qualms killing me as well if it suited her, whether I was nobility or not.

Oberon above...

The prayer went dead in the silence. It seemed as if no one would help me.

After a time, she finally spoke.

"Where is the Duke?"

I blinked, "What..?"

She tilted her head again, "Where is Alucard Von Hestion?"

Stupidly, I stammered, "Es- Estray..."

She smiled underneath the hood.

"I see... Then you shall tell me why he went there."

Before I could answer, I paused. If I told her why Father was sent to Estray, I would be violating the Order. In fact, I had already violated part of the Order when I told her where he went anyway. Surely no good would come of this.

"I... do not know." I looked away.

A pause settled in for quite some time then.

"Did not the Emperor issue an Archaic Order to you?"

I flinched, snapping back to her.

"He did, didn't he..." She stood up again, reaching to the side and summoning a servant with a letter. Reading it aloud, she said, "Deliver this to one Eliza Von Hestion. Do not read it and do not let anyone else read it. Abide by protocol."

I recognised that letter; it was the very one that came with the Order back at the manor, except the servant was different to the one that arrived.

She turned back to me, opening the letter's bloodied page, "Abide by protocol, he said. Protocol is not invoked unless it is serious business, wouldn't you agree?"

I looked down at the floor, cheeks heating with embarrassment, "I... do not know of that, Lady."

She sighed, then walked back to me.

"Agh!" I winced as she pulled my hair. The dagger rested against my throat, dangerously pressed against the taut skin.

"Perhaps I was not clear enough: what was in that Order, wretch? Tell me and I might consider sparing your pathetic life," She spat, enraged.

I strained against her hold, keeping my neck above the blade's edge.

"Forgive me, Lady," I rasped, gritting my teeth, "but I cannot say. I know little more than you in that regard."

My rib ached in pain, screaming at me as she laid all my weight onto that one spot.

She dropped my head, turning back to the chair.

"Very well then. It seems there is little use for you."

The shadows overhead moved quickly. Two dragged the corpses away from me. Another one turned to face me, brandishing another wicked knife in his hand.

I closed my eyes. I thought that would be the place where I died.