It felt like a dungeon.

The room was small and dark and little more than a concrete box. There were two lanterns and a flashlight, so he had plenty of light, but the lanterns' flickering yellow flames only added to the eerie gloom of the room. There was a bed for sleeping and a table with two chairs for sitting. A tray with a bowl and spoon sat on the table. Beside it was a half-empty bottle of water. And in the corner, a bucket with a rough-hewn wooden lid served as a toilet.

It was enough to serve his most basic needs, but even Troit cells had better amenities provided to their prisoners. Jett knew this for a fact.

Perhaps the worst of it all was the solid metal door that was the only exit from this place. It was locked. He'd knocked on the door, then called out for anyone to respond, then had taken to trying to break out. Sadly, all the above had proven futile and he'd given up on escaping.

Now he sat at the table in sullen silence, head resting on folded arms. There was nothing he could do now but wait. And wonder - why am I here? Where is Raven? What happened?

His memory was foggy, so he remembered little past wandering the tunnels with Alainna. That seemed so long ago. It felt like he'd been here for days. Maybe even weeks. He'd eaten whatever grainy gruel had been left in the bowl, cold and tasteless as it was, and now he was hungry again.

He hoped they hadn't forgotten about him. Starving to death in a dungeon room didn't sound very appealing. And he very much wanted to demand why they had thought it to be a good idea to throw him in here in the first place.

A bone deep exhaustion numbed most of his ire. He'd spent a lot of time sleeping, yet it had done little to ease the weariness that had settled around him like a heavy cloak. He gazed blankly at the far wall, watching shadows dance across the concrete wall with unfocused eyes.

How long have I been here?

The sound of a deadbolt being pulled back came from the door. Jett started badly, heart leaping into his throat. He stared at the door with wide eyes even as the faintest of hope began to stir.

Raven?

The door creaked open with an awful groan and a man stepped through. It was not Raven. With a hand pressed flat against the door, the man pushed it shut. Almost immediately, the sound of a deadbolt being slid home came from the other side.

Jett frowned deeply at that, discontent rising. But before he could even start to question, the man turned and fixed him with a pair of sharp green eyes.

"Hello, little crow," the man spoke in an oddly lilting tone, though the movements of his lips were obscured by the strips of white cloth obscuring the majority of his face. His voice carried a slight rasp. "How does it go?"

Stunned, Jett found no words. He could only stare at the bandaged man who'd just intruded into his dark little prison. Seb, his mind eventually supplied the man's name. Raven had introduced him as his "eyes and ears".

The shape of Seb's eyes changed slightly, hinting at a smile. Somehow, he didn't seem as creepy as he had when they'd first met. Jett watched warily as the bandaged man gestured at the empty chair at the table.

"I am Seb, I'll admit. If you would permit, I would like to sit."

Jett eyed the man, wondering if he was partially crazy. Never in his life had he heard someone talk so strangely. He glanced at the door, wishing that it had remained unlocked. At least then he could have attempted to make a run for it. Surely a guy who dressed up like a mummy wouldn't be able to run very fast.

Seb waited by the door, keeping silent. He calmly looked about the small room, observing what it had to offer while seeming to ignore Jett's presence.

Jett found it puzzling. And annoying. Just why did he even come in here?! There's nothing to see. He let out a little huff of air before lifting an arm to point at the chair opposite him.

"You can sit if you want."

At once, Seb's gaze swept across Jett's face before lowering to the offered chair. He did not hesitate in walking over. Dropping a gloved hand on the back of the chair, he pulled it out smoothly and sat. "A thanks I'll make and a seat I'll take."

Jett stared at the guy. He wasn't sure how to take any of this. "Why are you here?"

"Just passing through," Seb shrugged lightly, "So how are you?" He rested his hands on the table top, their pale gloves a stark contrast to the dark grain of the wood.

Jett blinked. The question took him by surprise. He wasn't expecting a stranger to actually care enough to ask. He watched Seb warily. "Fine, I guess."

Seb nodded, the motion surprisingly elegant. "I see, very good. Let's talk, if you would?"

"Talk about what?" Jett didn't think there was anything to talk about. At least, not with Seb.

Seb tilted his head faintly, emerald eyes crinkling at the corners. They looked dark in the flickering light from the lantern on the table. "Why not tell me about you? Perhaps a color, your treasured hue?"

For a moment, Jett just stared at the bandaged man. It took him a bit to figure out what Seb was saying, and once he did, he felt a little bewildered. "Are you... asking what my favorite color is?"

In answer, Seb inclined his head in a single, regal nod.

"Why?"

"Because, little crow," Seb said gently. "I wish to know. Now, perhaps a clue? Your favorite hue."

What was going on here? Jett wondered if he was still asleep, because this seemed strange and unlikely in the way that dreams often were. He sighed, rubbing at tired eyes, and decided to humor the guy.

What could it hurt? It wasn't like he had anything else to do. And maybe he could convince Seb to let him out of this stupid room.

"It's blue," he admitted. Absently, he ran a finger across the rough grain of the table's surface. "Like the sky."

"Ah, a wonderful choice!" Seb sounded quite pleased. He settled back in his chair, taking a moment to pointedly look around the room before his attention returned to Jett. "But a glance around shows a lack of its voice. Do you have something in which it can be found? Something we could bring 'round?"

It took nearly a full minute for Jett's mind to figure out what the bandaged guy was on about. Listening to Seb talk made his head ache, and he wanted to demand why Seb couldn't just talk like a normal person, but a flicker in his mind distracted him.

Something sky blue. Something that was his. A flash of color, a sense of comfort, of safety, of confidence. Something missing.

He slumped in his chair, a little furrow creasing his brow as a wave of longing swelled in his heart. "My suit," he said so softly he could barely hear his own voice. "It's white and blue, and it's -"

The words caught in his throat before they could escape. How could he possibly explain this to someone who wasn't a flyer?

His suit was everything. It was strength. Confidence. Freedom. A promise. Without it, he was nothing more than a weak civilian. What use was he without his wings?

Why did Raven take it?

His chest ached, causing him to realize that he'd been holding his breath. Very much aware that Seb was watching, Jett forced himself to relax. To exhale. Inhale.

Heat rushed to his face. It was a dumb idea to even mention his suit and he already regretted doing so. Seb wouldn't understand. No nonflyer could. They would just think he was being silly.

"Your attachment is plain," Seb said, a hint of warmth softening his sharp gaze. "About this suit, do explain."

Jett blinked, more than a little taken aback. Seb actually wanted to know about his suit? Why? He found himself wanting to talk about it - it was one of the most important things he owned, and he hadn't realized how much it meant to him until it was gone. Yet he hesitated, a small part of him resisting.

Across the table, Seb waited in silence, his attention fully focused on Jett. Yet instead of feeling intimidating, his calm regard felt reassuring. Like he was there for the sole purpose of listening.

Jett swallowed. How long has it been since anyone actually listened to him? How long had it been since anyone actually showed interest in his well being, in his thoughts and feelings? He found himself looking away, blinking rapidly as a rush of emotion threatened to fill his eyes with unwanted water.

"Was it too much to ask you such?" Seb asked. He shifted slightly, threading his fingers together on the table's surface.

Jett shook his head, both annoyed and somewhat embarrassed. "No, it's fine. It's nothing. I was just... I don't know. It's stupid."

"That it is not," Seb said reassuringly. "No matter the thought, your concerns are for naught. Be at ease and speak what you please. Now, if you will, tell me about this suit's thrill."

The suit's thrill? Jett rubbed at his eyes in disbelief. Who even talked like that? Seb did, that's who. No wonder he was feeling so tired. Holding a conversation with this guy was exhausting. Even as he had that thought, however, he already had opened his mouth to speak.

"It's my flyer suit," he said before he could even consider the wisdom of it. "It was made just for me. It's the only one in the world like it. Even the colors - I picked those myself." He smiled faintly, remembering the suit technician's expressions when he explained which colors he wanted. "Once I put it on, I never took it off. Until..."

He paused, his smile instantly fading. His gaze dropped to his hands, which wrung together on his lap. "I don't know where it is now."

A soft exhale came from Seb. There was a moment of thoughtful silence before the bandaged man spoke. "It seems its value to you is not slight. To not know its location must be a fright."

"It is," Jett mumbled, responding to both statements at once. He glanced up at Seb's face. "Raven has it somewhere though."

"If the raven holds it close, then it is safe, do you suppose?"

Jett frowned, then nodded. He wasn't sure why Seb was asking such a thing. Raven was his big brother. Family. Of course he trusted Raven with it.

Seb's eyes immediately became crescents as he smiled. "I am glad it is so, for that which is so dear is held safe for the crow. For its return, do you fear?"

At that, Jett's eyes grew wide. Raven would give it back, right? He wouldn't keep it forever, would he? The last few times he asked for it, Raven hadn't given it to him. Why-? He swallowed thickly, suddenly unsure.

"Little crow," Seb's voice was gentle. "Your thoughts grow. What is it that troubles you so?"

Jett blinked, refocusing on Seb. "What? I wasn't - it's just that I was wondering if Raven would ever give it back." The last few words were so quiet that even Jett could barely hear the sound of his own voice.

"Do you think Raven's so crude, that your suit he would seclude?"

Isn't that exactly what he's doing? He took it and now he won't give it back. Bitterness surged like a tide, and Jett sagged in his chair. "I don't know."

"Hm," Seb seemed thoughtful, remaining silent for a moment before he spoke again. "Could you take a guess? As to why he'd deny you access?"

Why? That's what he'd been asking himself all this time! He scowled so deeply, the movement caused the scabs on his face to pull. The discomfort immediately reminded him of their existence and he stilled, a thought occurring to him.

"Maybe it was because I was hurt."

"Hurt, you say?" There was undeniable interest in Seb's voice. A glance across the table showed that the bandaged man had straightened in his chair. "Please expound. In what way was this hurt found?"

Instinctively, Jett reached up and lightly touched the marks on his cheeks. His jaw clenched. "I don't know."

Seb didn't move a muscle. "Little crow. If you don't know, then from this we'll retreat. Perhaps when we next meet, we can explore some more."

"When we next -?" Just what was this guy saying? Did he intend to come again? For what? Jett's stomach sank. How long am I going to be stuck here?

No. This wasn't right. Being locked away in a room visited only by a crackpot weirdo was not something he could accept. He gritted his teeth, trying to show confidence he didn't feel. "What's that supposed to mean? Why are you really here?"

Very slowly, Seb tilted his head, silently regarding Jett. His manner was quite serious. "The raven left you in my care. I am here to help, this I swear."

This was Raven's doing? Raven locked him in this room, then? Jett narrowed his eyes.

"If you want to help, then let me out of here! Where's Raven? I want to talk to him." And tell him that if he thinks I'm going to stay in this dungeon talking to a guy who can't even talk like a normal person, he's completely crazy!

In the face of Jett's ire, Seb didn't even flinch. Ever calm, he waited until Jett had fallen silent before speaking. "The raven has flown to a destination unknown. When he will return, I am unable to discern."

"What?" Jett could hardly believe his ears. "Raven left?"

"A raven's business is his own. Yet be assured, little crow. He did not wish to leave you alone. You understand this, no?"

Do I? Slumping back in his chair, Jett felt a confusing wash of emotions. He felt like a prisoner. Raven was the Warden who put him here, apparently for some reason he couldn't fathom. And his questionable guard was this bandaged man who liked to ask too many personal questions.

What was going on? Why was this happening?

Movement from across the table made him look up. Seb was holding up one gloved finger. "I will make you a deal," he said. "A trade, plus a meal."

Jett eyed the bandaged man warily. "A trade?"

And a meal? Did he mean food? Food sounded great, actually. His stomach immediately agreed, its enthusiasm obvious.

Seb nodded once. "An honest answer and in return, a piece of your suit you will earn."

"My suit?" Jett couldn't help it. He sat up straight, eyes glued to Seb. "You'll really give it back?"

"One part, to start."

Jett didn't even hear Seb's last clarification. His mind was already racing, hope and eagerness growing like a wildfire. "But Raven has it. How would you even get him to give it back?"

A faint smile played about Seb's eyes. "The raven will cooperate. I doubt he'd hesitate."

Would he really? Jett wasn't so sure if that was true. He also wasn't sure if he could trust Seb, but just the possibility of getting his suit back was enough to make him agree. "Okay. I'll do it. Ask your question."

In response, Seb lightly touched the bandaging on his own face, his fingertips lightly resting along his cheekbone. "Before these wounds appeared upon your face, you must have been someplace. Do you recall this place at all?"

Without realizing it, Jett touched his own cheek, mirroring Seb's movements. His fingers trembled slightly. "I - I'm not sure."

"Just the where," Seb affirmed. "During that affair, what was there? What did you see before the hurt came to be?"

The water. The thought instantly sprang to mind, and Jett's breath caught in his throat, hardening into a lump. The tremor spread from his hands to the rest of his body. He dropped his hand, grabbing it with the other, fingers curling, clenching as he hid them beneath the table and tried hard to keep them still.

"Tell me," Seb said softly. "What do you see?"

Jett swallowed hard. The lump didn't budge. He whispered, "There's water."

"Are you near the water, little crow? Where do you go?"

Something within resisted, digging in its heels. Don't, it warned. Yet the promise of his suit gave him the motivation to ignore it. "I'm kneeling." He paused for a moment, then added, "It's cold on my legs."

"On your knees you sprawl? Why so, can you recall?" Seb's voice was calm, steady, prodding him on.

Jett's lips twitched as he remembered bits and pieces. "I was dusty. Thirsty. And the water looked nice."

"What occurred to make your thirst so matured?"

"I was... running," Jett answered immediately. That part was vivid in his mind, at least. "For a long time. Through a forest."

"That sounds tiresome. No wonder you were athirst. Why the burst?"

Jett frowned, thinking. He tilted his head slightly, aware of his heart beating fast in his chest. The memory of running came easily to mind, as did an urgency to get away, but he was having trouble remembering why. Only that it was important that he got away.

"I'm not sure," he finally answered.

Seb shifted in his chair. "All right. Then let's return, if we might? About your hurt, please recite."

Right. These injuries. That seemed easier to talk about than the water, for some reason. Jett breathed deeply, taking a moment.

"I think," he said, then trailed off. Once again, he lifted his fingers and touched the fading scabs. "Raven said I did it to myself. It's hard to remember."

"No remembrance at all? Harming yourself, you don't recall?" Seb sat completely motionless, a statue that was simply another fixture in the room. The only thing that showed life was his gaze, a sharp, intent thing that seemed to soften whenever Jett met it, but then reformed its edge as soon as he looked away.

It made Jett feel like he was teetering on a tightrope. The only way not to fall was to keep stepping forward. "I don't... think so?"

"This idea of self hurt, do you often skirt?"

Stiffening, Jett's immediately shook his head. "No! Why would I do that? I'm not... I don't do that."

"Little crow," Seb exhaled gently. "You've been through a lot. For this type of thought, it's normal to go. But if you say no, then no further we will go."

Blinking, Jett relaxed a little. He hadn't expected Seb to back off so easily, and that made him feel oddly relieved. He wasn't sure why.

"Now, to clarify," Seb went on. "If not yourself, then what about another? Is there anyone thereby that gives you great pother?"

Jett blinked. "Uh, what?"

The bandaged man might as well have been babbling like a baby, for Jett had no clue what he just said. His attention wandered to the door, to the tunnels that lay behind. When will Raven return?

Seb inclined his head, clearing his throat. "If one were to cause you alarm, might you ever wish them harm?"

That got Jett's attention. His eyes flew back to Seb in shock, and he shook his head vehemently. "What? No! I would never hurt anyone!"

But as soon as he said that, he fell silent, because there was... there was... something. Itching in the back of his mind. He frowned, and when he reached out, it was like grasping a fistful of air. Nothing is there. Nothing.

"I don't hurt people," he mumbled, staring at his hands.

"I never accused," Seb said evenly. "Have others so mused?"

Jett stiffened, his fingers gripping each other hard enough for his skin to turn white. His stomach churned nauseously. The very idea of what Seb was suggesting made him feel ill. It was wrong. So terribly wrong. He didn't hurt people. That wasn't him.

I'm not evil. I'm not a killer! A violent tremor made his small frame shake. He could almost sense her, laying at his feet, her empty brown eyes staring up at him. "It's not true," he gasped. "I didn't do it!"

Seb's eyes narrowed, but just for a split second. His expression smoothed in the next instant. He held up both hands placatingly. "All is well. Calm yourself here, " he murmured. "Be at peace, let your mind clear. I would ask you to consider something new. A memory special to you. Perhaps of the raven, for family can be a haven."

The words washed over Jett, doing little to ease his racing heart. He only sat and stared at the bandaged man with wide eyes, barely keeping the panic at bay.

"Tell me about your brother," Seb gently prodded. "You two seem to care for each other."

Jett nodded slowly. He supposed that was true, wasn't it? Though Raven didn't really reveal much of what he was feeling. Even when he was angry or annoyed, the man was an expert of maintaining his mysterious facade. Even so, there were times when Jett caught glimpses of the true Raven, and it was enough.

His thoughts drifted through memories, recalling faint smiles and violet eyes that glimmered with dark humor. There was also the easy grace of a predator, the presence of danger, the sense of safety. Raven was a man who seemed to fear nothing and how Jett wished he shared that trait.

Seb kept quiet and still, watching as Jett got lost in his thoughts. As the minutes passed, the tension eased from Jett's body.

"Little crow," Seb called softly.

Startled, Jett broke free from his reminiscing. "Huh? What?"

"So fast time does flow," Seb murmured. His eyes reflected a smile. "How do you feel now, little crow?"

"Uh, okay, I guess?" With a small amount of surprise, Jett realized he meant it. Where he'd been unsettled and tense before, he felt a lot calmer now.

Seb looked at him, and Jett got the sense that the bandaged man was pleased. What for, he didn't know.

"For our first chat, you've done well. There's much to work at, much to dispel. But we'll save that for later. First, your dinner I will cater, followed by the promised reward. I would not have your efforts ignored."

With that, Seb went to door and knocked twice. A moment later, there was the scraping sound of a lock being opened. The door slid open part way, letting in a wash of yellow light from the outside tunnel.

Jett watched in silence as Seb left, making no move to get out of his chair. Once the door was shut and the lock slid home, he rubbed at his face absently. He still wasn't exactly sure what had just happened, but at the moment, that wasn't important. Would Seb really keep his word? Would he actually bring back Jett's suit?

He eyed the door, as if it would open in the next two seconds and deliver said suit. His stomach chose that moment to growl, reminding him of its displeasure. Right. And food! Even if it was another bowl of that disgusting porridge, he'd be happy to see it.

Propping his chin on his hands, Jett settled in to wait, gaze fixed firmly to the door.