Aaron wasn't sure if he had completed the impossible or if he had just never experienced it before, but almost every part of his body was in some sort of pain. His shoulders, neck, back, and hips were incredibly stiff and sore from the rock-hard floor that he was forced to sleep on, his feet hurt from pacing endlessly in a circle around his cell sometimes for hours at a time, his head pounded with a continuous headache, his knees hurt from kneeling on the stone floor under him, and his chest was burning from the thick, dust-riddled air around him. For five months he'd been forced to breathe the horrible particles, and it was having its effect on him. 

The waking moments were the worst. When Aaron opened his eyes from a hazy, half-remembered dream, it almost felt like he hadn't breathed in years. Every morning, he struggled to sit up and draw in enough air to satisfy his lungs. His chest ached every hour of the day, but the mornings were bad enough to make him never want to sleep again. 

Not only was Aaron in a lot of pain, he was also extremely angry and - though he didn't want to admit it to anyone - afraid. He knew that there was nothing wrong with being scared, especially because there was a very valid reason to, considering what he was afraid of; but he hated being frightened. Besides, his anger outweighed his fear. He was angry that he was separated from his daughter, his son-in-law, his granddaughter, and his friend. He was angry that the world had to end this way. He was angry that there was nothing they could do. 

It angered him that he could do nothing. 

He knew that this was a flaw of his - that he always felt responsible for everything. Aaron realized that some things were too big for him to handle, but he always felt like there was something he could to do to help or fix the problem. Even when people told him there was nothing he could do, he always tried to prove them wrong just because he felt like he needed to do something. He figured that this problem was mostly because he'd taken on the roll of king and queen for years, and he was always doing everything. 

When he'd handed his daughter the crown, Aaron had expected to retire peacefully without any more strife. He'd had his share of hardship even before his wife died, and he didn't want to experience any more. It was like a punch in the gut when he'd suddenly gotten sick, which happened to be another problem that would continue to torment him until his end. 

The end which he guessed wasn't far off. 

That was another thing he was angry about. He had a normal, human reaction to death - he was afraid, but he also knew that it would be much more peaceful - but he also was frustrated about it. Mostly because of the knowledge that he would have to die and rot away in a cell like this, under the harsh rule of Darks. 

He never had any plans to die this way, yet it seemed to be getting closer with each day. 

"Aaron?" Gabriel's voice called tentatively from the cell several rows down. The former king and the blacksmith couldn't see each other because of the solid walls on their sides, but they were close enough to carry conversation back and forth. Most of the talks they had were quick and simple, without much emotion behind them. There wasn't much to talk about. 

"Hmm," Aaron mumbled, just to show that he had heard Gabriel. He didn't find much pleasure in speaking about pointless things, but it seemed to make Gabriel feel better. Aaron tried to hold conversation with the young man, but none of them lifted his spirits, no matter what they spoke of. 

"Do you hear that?" Gabriel asked, his voice quiet as if he was listening to something far away.

The question made Aaron lift himself away from the wall he was leaning on. As long as they had been here, the only people that the men had heard or seen were Dark guards. Neither of them paid much attention to them, so if Gabriel was asking about something he heard, it had to be important. 

Aaron scooted painfully toward the bars of his cell, gripping them with shaking hands and tilting his head to listen for whatever Gabriel was hearing. It didn't take him long to find the shouting of a distant, angry voice that was distinctly male. 

From this range, the words were too hard to make out, but the owner of the voice was getting closer. Whoever was yelling was either running or being dragged, and there was an equality between the possibilities. Though they had never seen them, Aaron and Gabriel had heard from chatter of the Dark guards that several Arielian prisoners had tried to escape and had been sentenced to death.

Aaron just prayed none of them were his family or friends.

Gabriel and Aaron both remained silent as the voice grew nearer, until eventually they could make out the desperately screamed words. 

"What have you done with her?!" the man yelled, his voice harsh and powerful yet thin and hoarse. "Where have you monsters taken her?! Let go of me, you savages!! I swear, I'm going to break your skull open if you don't let me go! Tell me what you've done with her!!" 

Fear immediately spilled into Aaron's heart, and his breath hitched painfully. Despite the fact that he hadn't heard that voice in five months, despite the fact that the voice was scratchy and exploding with uncommon anger, Aaron knew who owned that voice. 

Aaron's cell was positioned by a corner, which led to a row of ascending stairs. This was the only reason he knew what had happened when Marcus crashed into view, landing on his shoulder and rolling several times until he slammed against the wall behind him. 

The king cried out in pain as he collided with the wall, but a moment later he was on his feet again. If he saw Aaron, he took no notice of his father-in-law. He charged toward the stairs again, disappearing behind the wall that separated Aaron's cell and the steps. 

"Enough resisting," a rough female voice snapped, and Aaron heard Marcus make a sound as if something had caught him painfully by the throat. "It will not get you anywhere. If it makes you feel any better, I personally do not know where she has been taken or what is to be done with her. If you continue to fight back, your seclusion may turn into something worse." 

The owner of the voice slowly rounded the corner, and Aaron scooted away to make it look like he hadn't been listening. The woman was short but sturdily built, her shoulders broad and hips wide. Her arms were heavily muscled, but her face was hardened with age. Her hair, pulled into a long braid that swung behind her, was stone grey and streaked with black. Her hazel brown eyes were sharp and slanted, and her full lips were set in a line. Her gaze didn't look angry or disapproving - mostly stern and level. Though she looked to be close to Aaron's age, she looked like a strong warrior. 

However, there was no doubt that she was a Dark. 

As the woman walked by, her brown eyes flickered down into Aaron's cell. For a moment, their eyes locked and the woman's gaze became hard to read. But she severed the contact by pausing and glancing over her shoulder at the corner, where three more people appeared. 

The one in the middle was Marcus. He was standing between two Dark guards, both tall and male. They were holding his arms firmly, but if he had been struggling before, he showed no signs of it anymore. He was, however, standing straight and walking on his own, casting the Darks beside him defiant looks. 

"My seclusion?" he repeated harshly back at the woman. 

"Your seclusion," she said back with a short nod, but her gaze was smug about it in the least. If Aaron was right, it looked like solemnness. "As punishment for attempted escape." 

Aaron's heart leapt to his throat at the words. Attempted escape ended in death. Was that what seclusion meant? 

"I wasn't attempting to escape!" Marcus argued angrily, jerking against the hands that held him. "I was trying to get to my wife!!" 

Aaron's breathed hitched again, this time catching in his throat and burning like fire. What had happened to Ruby? Where was she? Was she all right? 

His fear made him bold. "What happened to her?" he said hurriedly, struggling to his feet. His vision swam for a moment, but he stumbled forward and gripped the bars. "Marcus, what happened to her?" 

Marcus turned at the sound of Aaron's voice, his eyes widening. With renewed strength and determination, the king wrenched himself away from the Darks hands and rushed forward, his hand folding over Aaron's. The woman held up her hand when the Dark guards started forward, and the men glanced at her in confusion but stayed back.

"Aaron," Marcus said in relief, but his eyes were alight with worry. "I don't know what happened to her. A Dark came and took her away. I don't know where. I tried to stop him, but-" 

"But it would have ended in horrible punishment or immediate death," the woman a few paces away answered for the king. Again, her voice didn't sound angry or smug - simply smooth and firm. "Depending on The Dark Lord's mood."

Marcus hurled a sharp glare over his shoulder at the older Dark, but said nothing to her. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I tried to get to her." 

"I know I told you that I was not aware of your wife's predicament," said the woman in a tone that almost sounded helpful, "but I do know that nothing horrible is to befall her. She will return to her cell safely, as far as I know." 

"You really expect me to trust you?" Marcus shot over his shoulder, stepping away from the bars and crossing his arms. 

"I do not," said the old Dark. "It is up to you if you are going to or not. I only speak what I know, and for your sake, I sincerely hope it is true." 

Aaron didn't know how to take that - if the woman was sympathizing for Marcus, or if she was saying that because, if Ruby did come back harmed, she knew that Marcus would do something irrational and get a punishment.

Either way, it sounded like she... cared what happened to the king. 

"Come, Marcus," said the woman. "I have places to be, and as do you." She gestured with her hand, and the two Darks took ahold of Marcus's arms again. 

"Wait!" yelled the king, but the woman turned around and the Darks started to pull him again. "Aaron, are you all right? How are you feeling? Are they feeding you?" 

Aaron could only watch as his son-in-law was dragged away, struggling and yelling desperate questions that couldn't be answered. Aaron's throat was dry, his heart pounding, his lungs constricted. 

"Gabriel?!" Marcus cried when he caught sight of the blacksmith, who had remained silent, in the other cell, the one that Aaron couldn't see. "You're here too? Wait, let go! Let me talk to them!" 

His voice faded away, and Aaron slowly lowered himself to the floor again. His daughter had been taken by Darks, and although the woman did sound sincere about what she had said...

Aaron couldn't stop the fear that marched into his heart.

~

Okay, opinion time!!

Should I keep this woman in the series?

I came up with her off the fly, and personally, I actually quite like her. 

If I should keep her, GIVE ME NAME IDEAS!!

And if y'all do decide to see her again, I've gotta start coming up with plans for her...

Welp, anways!

Thanks for reading!!

P3ac3!!!~~~