Isabel woke to find herself in a bed much less luxurious than those she’d been accustomed to since the starting course of her life. The pain in her head and stiffness of her overwrought body was a quick minder to the course of events that had led to them and she sat up hastily.

Regret was just as quick to set in and when she nearly vomited from the assault of pain and dizziness, she simply laid back down and took the moment to reorient herself.

When she was ready, she opened her eyes and took stock of her situation. She was alive. That much was pretty clear to her. The lack of any semblance of an afterlife that she’d ever heard, along with the pain, was a good indicator to her of that.

She also realized the room she was in didn’t open from her side, having no discernable means of interacting with whatever kept it locked on this side. She was a prisoner. An important enough on to give her some accommodations from the looks of the platter of food and pitcher of water next her bedside with a note mentioning when they’d been delivered and the fact that she had woken up in a semi comfortable bed instead of some straw and some meal of gruel.

She tried to call out but winced at the pain it cause her throat and head. The smoke, screaming, and running had probably harmed her throat. Drinking sips from the water was difficult considering how much she wanted to simply down the entire thing, but she knew it would be a bad idea to. The suddenness of the water and her body would have her throwing up every ounce in no time if she did. She nibbled at a piece of bread from the platter and thought to herself. The pain faded a little before long and she tried again.

“Hello? Am I in the tower of the peacekeepers? Is anyone close by?”

It took a moment, but she got a surprisingly quick answer.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Hold on Lady Nephet. And yes, this is the tower.”

Isabel was both relieved and confused. They knew who she was, but had still placed her within a room meant for criminals too well connected to handle any other way. Maybe the other rooms and infirmary all too filled with injured. Her hopes dimmed when the voice entered the room and had his hand place on the handle of his blade.

“Good evening Lady Nephet. I am vice captain of the peacekeepers, Vincent Lavurne. I apologize for your present situation and offer my condolences on your recent experiences.”

“What is my present situation, Vice Captain? Why am I… here? Did anyone else…” She stared at his impassive face, not even a flicker of what lay inside passing through.

“Lady Nephet, I’m not at liberty to say much to the current investigation into the matters that transpired last night,” as he said this, sounding very much so like he’d read it off a script, he moved towards the chair placed beside the small table that had the food and water and sat, “only that you are the only survivor we know of at this time. Truly, I am sorry for you losses.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Isabel had stopped listening at the end. Dead. Her family, her fiancée, the servants who had become friends watching her grow up. All of them where dead? No. No she could not sit there and be fed such a lie.

“No. No you have to be wrong, someone had to have made it out! Ben said he would search for Eli. He was alive! You must know who he is, Vice Captain. If anyone could have…”

“As of this time, my Lady, he and everyone on the grounds at the time of assault have either been identified or were too… damaged… to verify without further aid and investigation. No one has come forward, beyond you.”

Her sobs came forth then. Wracking, heaving sobs as she screamed and lost her voice once more. They became scratchy and hollow. Just as she felt now. The captain, losing some of his stone faced demeanor, watched her until she’d began to run out of energy and seemed once more on the verge of forced sleep claiming her.

“There is another matter…”

But she was already gone again, slumping into the bed like a puppeteers doll getting the strings cut. He sighed, poured himself some water, and waited. This was the job he’d signed himself up for. Dealing with tragedy and potential killers.

The wait was much shorter than the last brought on by Isabel’s unconcousness. After ten minutes and almost leaving her again, she stirred and Vincent stood and poured her some water. The cup sat in her hands as she stared at it with the look of devastation haunting her gaze.

Steeling himself, he tried again.

“Unfortunately, Lady Nephet, there is another matter of importance to discuss. Your family has held a reserve of magic items and artifacts for generations, is this correct?”

He had to ask the question twice more with the same gentle tone before she seemed to understand.

“I… yes, we do. Did. We also had contracts with the governance and local council to keep hold of and secure any deemed weapons of war or greater destruction.”

“Are you aware of the status and inventory of those items?”

“The were kept in a secure vault on the grounds. Is this why? Captain , did they die for THINGS?” The raising of her voice set you coughing and brought the dizziness back but she fought through.

“We suspect something along that line of thought,” he was back to his face of ice, “but the entirety of the contents is not known to us as of yet. I know at your present it might be difficult, but please. If you can recall the coffers of your family it would be of great aid to the investigation.”

Isbel set out listing the items as he took out a pad and writing stick. There were ninety-seven in total, not including the heart or axe. Neither would she mention them either. They hadn’t been in the vault. Of them, fourty-seven had been weapons of one kind or another. The remaining fifty were debatably useful or had safety features that rendered them harmless in all but extreme use cases or damage.

As she spoke, she sipped the water and forced out as much information as she could despite the pain of it growing. By the end she was barely able to speak above a rasp.

“If that is all, I believe for now I am done. Thank you for your time, Lady Nephet, and your participation with the information. This will prove helpful going forward.”

Isabel nodded back, too exhausted to speak more. As she faded from thought and feeling once more, Vincent left. The nightmares that followed her into slumber wove into a tapestry of death and fire. The faces of all of whom she loved blisted and burned. Their screams and demands that she help them.

As if in a pattern to remove her sanity from the trappings of her mind, sleep and the haunting nightmares of screams and shouts blended with the reality that she awoke to find herself in. The shouting had been real. It was coming from inside the tower.