This one is darker from the first, but it's not as dark as what it could be.
Dusk fell with an uncanny silence. Nothing provoked except the prisoner moving in his spasmodic sleep. He was dreadfully shallow and colorless, having no food or daylight for a fortnight.
The only color was a small trickle of blood down his side, from a recent sword cut he'd received being silent. He was dressed in a dark navy, the mark of a prisoner of The War.
No one could have known he was sleeping, he never moved much when he was awake either. His cell was barred with stone bars that no individual could break through the bars.
No one was allowed to talk to him, come into his cell, or be near the cell until his trial, which he would no doubt succumb to death.
Only a few selected men were allowed in there to abuse or get information out of him. He was put under a thick lock and key where there was only one copy of the key.
The Evil was taking no chances He was known for his undercover contacts and slippery ways...
In his hand, he clutched a note made out of parchment, the only way out of the dastardly fate, his only way out of the cell. Drops of water leaked from the ceiling.
The cell was dripping from the violent storm the night before. Because of this, the cell was dank, moist, and dark.
The small ray of light that shined through during the day had disappeared with the sun. The moon was up and the stars glinted down as if saying, I'm free and you're not...
The cuffs shackled his wrists. They burned and bit into his appendages. All feeling he had once was gone. It disappeared with The War.
He jerked toward a puddle, his grip crushing the parchment. The letter was his only confidence in survival. If his method will work, he would live to fight another battle. He would be free.
But, for now, his hand twitched rapidly into a puddle, wetting the note. The ink leaked off the page, into the mercy of the puddle. The note was destroyed.
And so was his hope of getting out of the mess he was in.
When the blood-red sun came up Dark Knight dressed in dark scarlet snuck into the dismal cell. The Dark Knight was ecstatic for this... He was to take him to the trial on the top of the hill.
The cell door opened with a creak and angrily, The Dark Knight kicked him awake. There was a deep intake of breath and the con turned over gasping in pain.
He tried to get a curse out, but it was probably not a good idea. The Dark Knight kicked him in the head this time.
The prisoner was used to the abuse, but in the morning, the pain was much worse.
"I-I blame you for all my headaches," The prisoner said. The Dark Knight glanced at his face and was shocked.
"You!" He rasped.
"Yes old man, me, " The prisoner grunted with confidence.
"I don't like sass, boy!" The Dark Knight pulled out a shiny silver knife. "Don't defy me." The blade glinted with the sun's early rays.
Glaring at the prisoner, The Dark Knight sheathed his knife. He got close to the prisoner's face and whispered
"You are lucky to be alive even now, boy. If you were in my hands, your days would be numbered, boy. And if I were to drop my knife...
What do you think would happen? I don't need a council to give you a punishment... I can kill you any time of day." The Dark Knight spit in the con's face.
"I don't want your dirty spit, you son of a-" The Dark Knight punched him in the mouth to keep him from talking.
The prisoner tried to kick the Dark Knight in the leg, but the Dark Knight struck first. The hostage winced as the Dark Knight kicked him up onto his feet.
The Knight kicked him in the back, right where it hurts the most. He slumped, overcome with the loss of rest and sparse treatment. His fresh scars gleaned from the light of the rise of dawn.
The most noticeable was one on his eyelid... a gift from a friend, who would hopefully come and rescue him.
The prisoner knew that she couldn't hear, but he tried calling for her anyway, using her code name.
"Jayson!" He yelled.
"Jays-" He keened and gasped for air when the Dark knight forced him up by his neck,
gripping a firm hold on his throat as the Dark Knight led the convict gasping and choking for air to the hearing room on the peak of the cliff...
2 weeks earlier...
The castle's ditch was deep enough for water and crocodiles, but there were none. Even if the people wanted the water long gone and the ground was parched.
Not the grass, for there was no grass. That also disappeared with the War. Along with the grass, most people had also disappeared.
The old castle still stood, but it was heavily damaged by the War's toll of life. Any life forms that were there were gone, all of the animals ran the minute the smoke had risen.
There was no way to live in Dalecus anymore.
The river was poisoned with a cloud of dark smoke, and ever since he had gone, life had never been the same.
Some might say that the citizens of Dalecus could get through it, but just tell that to the citizens of Dalecus.
All hope was put out once the Fires ended. Towns destroyed... fires raged, it was always dark and there were no glimpses of the sun anymore.
Along with the water, people, and happiness, that also disappeared with the wars.
The last hope the country had was a century ago when the horrible dragon had cast a shadow over their small town. Their hero of the kingdom, Shocklette, had died gruesomely in the Wars.
There was no time to mourn. No time to waste, for the kingdom was dying slowly, whether it was people or plants, the kingdom of Dalecus was in ruins.
Nobody ruled, there was hardly anything to rule over anymore. The princess had also died, fighting alongside Shocklette. Her grave was the stone that still had some light on it.
But what else? The stone was stolen by the wars. One question loomed over the people who still lived there.
Who could we believe in now?
Shocklette's grave was non-existent, but her soul hid under several trees, and in the shack, she was once forced to live in.
Most commoners know her story well. She was a servant serving the king, and the kingdom had a huge problem. There was a monster, the kage over the kingdom.
No one knew what it was, but it started fires and turned once beautiful beginnings into ash. Shocklette had been a young child when her parents abandoned her... or so she thought.
She was born with magic, a power that is feared and preusocited. As the story goes, she was the accused who got pardoned and then knighted by the princess herself.
But she was gone. No one had the courage she had. Not anyone they'd found yet. But the citizens, as little hope as they had, retaliated after every battle.
But who could they believe in now? Dalecus used to have a noble royal family... but now the country is overrun by tyrants, and no one has the guts to stand up and rebel.
What was the hope for this country... what or who would save them... and who would save the prisoner?
As always, the fires raged. Who knew that fighting could start up fires... real ones at that. It seemed strange... because it made no sense...
Who was sending fires around? They were always there, of course. But which side was igniting them?
In the distance, a girl in a blue cloak stands on a cliff.
In her hand, a ball of fire.
Aiming for the center of battle.
This... This was a powerful enemy, and it wasn't clear what side she was on.
Who would be brutally attacked, and who would be spared?
Or perhaps she was a Rebel, someone who worked for no one and fought on both sides.
Just because they like fighting...
Who was the enemy of them all?
"No need for a dragon... I'm the kage here..."