Wrinkled skin, thinner than a layer of fine dust, stretched across bony fingers and gripped Lily's hand. The strength behind the skeletal grip belied their age. King Prathios remained silent and his face frozen. A maze of deep etched valleys impenetrable to cross. Lily's last words were gone with the shuddering breeze that provided no comfort.

And still no answer came.

"I must know one last thing of you, girl; where do your loyalties lie?"

Once again, Lily was witness to the powerful elf King Prathios had been at the peak of his reign. Even now, had she not been on her knees already, she was certain they would have buckled at his request. "I don't understand."

Eyes in color that simply added to the age spots across his skin focused with keenness as they drew closer. "You're human. A foreigner from another realm." Age had made his agile, lean muscles shrivel to the point that only a pruned husk remained, but his mind gleamed with brightness of days long past and words as clear as the day they were spoken. "Yet you managed to meet and acquaint yourself to Nim, an old and trusted servant of House Verakis. You've been in Mithoran—"

"In a dungeon and as a prisoner." Her eyes squeezed tight at the memory yet her defense was quick and steady.

"A piece of information you had not shared. Why? Is Fennaris your master? It would be a clever ploy to use you given how clearly his view of the world is known. Are you his spy sent to destroy us from within?"

Outraged, Lily stood, but his viselike grip remained. "Never! He kidnapped me! He, he..." The words would not form in her throat. "Nim was my friend. He is the reason I remained sane throughout all those weeks held prisoner and tor...Fennaris and Mimika turned me into the thing that I have become. I will gladly smile at their graves."

Instinct scream home, but that seemed impossible. There was only one place she could think of, "Armindia."

Prathios leaned back against his chair, never wavering his gaze at her. Too many things had to align. "With the former Protector and his companions? What is he to you?"

"I have no loyalty to him." To the first there was no pause in her voice. "Nor to Armindia, if that is what you mean."

"What a peculiar decision, then."

"I have..., I have nowhere else to go. And I know someone there."

His tone was mocking. "Indeed. Family is unlikely given your circumstance. What do you know of Armindia?"

She lowered her head in shamed ignorance. "Nothing."

King Prathios huffed and his wrinkles twisted to the side in what Lily interpreted as a smirk. "Obviously. Your ignorance of our world is astounding. Yet you seek to remain in it, is that not so?"

She nodded and kneeled before him. "I simply wish to healed. After that, I don't know what comes next."

The cane seemed to be an extension of him, as it bounced a gentle knock on her head before returning to Prathios' lap. "Ah, to be young and foolish enough to think that time will wait until you are ready for it to move on." More than disapproval filled his voice.

"Will you permit me to stay nonetheless? I will learn whatever it is you wish for me to learn."

His mouth became lost among the wrinkles that withheld his response. "For now, I will grant you asylum."

Relief sprang like a well and liquified her bones at his feet. "Thank you."

A gnarled hand rose in objection. "Do not thank me yet, child. Your asylum does not come without a price."

"What must I do?" Resignation turned relief to lead and weighed down her soul. Somehow, she now sat beside him, her hands at her lap, blind to more than her present but to the encroaching future at the king's hands.

"My price is small, a simple request. Keep secret our bargain and remain within the walls of Lathimnar."

"I am your prisoner then." Her skin turned to gooseflesh at the word 'prisoner'. So many memories to block out.

"Not in the least. You are a guest I choose to remain alive." This was the source of Valdor's silvery tongue; an ancient elf bedecked with cloaks and daggers. "Leave my borders, and Lord Fennaris will not be the only one hunting you. That I can assure you."

"A threat on my life and an end to my freedom. That is no small price."

"Sacrifice is something that we all must confront."

Perhaps, but there was always a choice, she thought. "And if I were to refuse?"

Prathios' eyes twinkled at the challenge. "I will expose you for the fraud you are to Landros, and he does not take well to being made the fool. If I do not exile you, Landros will surely deliver you to Lord Fennaris. What say you now?"

There was no way out.

The chilled air licked its way across her damp skin and permeated in shivers that racked her body. Lily's exposed skin, that which was not bruised or swollen, was little more than bumped ridges with stiff hairs on end. And no matter how tightly she wrapped herself into a ball or how feverishly she rubbed her arms, there was no warmth to alleviate her aching muscles.

No source of light was found to illuminate or provide a measure of heat. Long hours she had spent in futile attempt to find a crack in the midnight darkness. To escape her miserable surroundings. All to no avail. Even the light that bled beneath the closed door would have been a welcomed sight, but darkness reigned as her jailer and the cold an irrefutable cell mate.

Her physical sight was lost as it had been since the moment she unknowingly and forcibly Crossed. Somehow, she could see herself shuddering in a corner. The image was never clear, never steady. It shifted and moved in rolling dark waves that never came into focus.

It was impossible to keep track of how long she'd been imprisoned. Hunger kept her weak and with that came a new onslaught of pain. Her teeth chattered in a mockery of chewing the thin air.

But those were the waking hours. The self that saw her huddled and beaten knew that. The hours, that no matter how miserable they were spent, how suffocating the darkness, at least provided a tangible reality and a lonely tether to her sanity. The unnatural darkness that engulfed her was occupied with inky shadows that morphed into all manner of creatures.

They were coming. Shadows hissed and swirled. Constantly moving. Constantly changing.

Something slithered in the darkness. Massive and hungry, it could smell her. The thumping in her chest provided the beast with a steady beacon. But it was not the only monster drawn to her.

Heavy footfalls drew closer. The beast scraped the ground and walls with sharp talons in search of its prey. It sniffed the air and roared as it caught her scent.

Neither was entirely discernable, but she knew they were coming for her. Fear paralyzed her.

Each approached her from a different end. She could feel the warm breath now and hear the dripping of saliva. The wind was knocked out of her and pain slapped her across the side of her skull as she hit the ground.

A hand reached out to her and she saw Lord Fennaris about to lift his booted foot and strike her again. She gripped the hand tighter, bracing for the impact once more as she gasped for breath. For an instant, she could see with her own eyes. Through squinted eyes she saw Nim's face contorted in agony as flames ate him alive.

She released his hand just as the flames reached her, and heard laughter over her shoulder. Musical, wicked laughter. A thin silver chain bejeweled with a lilac stone weighed her down. When Lily turned, the laughter became a scream.

A long howl came from a different direction. Master Owen knelt with his back to her. She felt as if she floated rather than walked up to them. The sight before her unfolded. There was something on the ground.

She shifted her gaze to it and Aurora's lifeless eyes met hers. The disembodied voice of Armindia's Protector echoed in the depths—

SHE'S DEAD. SHE'S DEAD. SHE'S DEAD.

Wind gushed through the chamber and she was blown into a wooden box. She fought against the lid that closed and plunged her back into darkness.

There was no way out.