Soon enough, they left Whitshire behind them. Iris was glad. At least on the road, they won't encounter many people. She had enough harassment. She leaned on the bars and let slow swaying of the wagon and hoofbeats lull her mind into indifference. Luckily, the beggar gave up on any attempts to chat her up. He was lost in his thoughts, his bushy brows furrowed.

When the pale Lord Sun reached His peak, they stopped for a break. The Inquisitors hopped off their horses and let the animals drink from the little stream. They chatted together, sharing their food. The wind blew her way, and she smelled the delicious scent of cooked meat. Her stomach growled loudly.

'Hey, lads!' called the beggar, getting up on his feet. Iris noted he was pretty tall. Even when hunched, he had to be careful not to hit the wooden ceiling with his head. 'How about some water and a bite for the prisoners, eh?'

The closest Inquisitor laughed. He sat on the large stone, eating fresh bread and pickled meat. 'Why should we bother? We didn't get orders to feed you!' His companions cackled as if it was the funniest joke they've ever heard.

'Oh, and do you need an order to piss too?' scoffed the beggar.

The knight was on his feet in seconds, scowling. 'Watch your tongue, old fart, or I will cut it out!'

'You'd better be careful, lad. As I recall that tongue of mine knows the secrets your superiors wish to pry off me. It would be a shame if they discovered I ain't able to talk.'

The Inquisitor growled and took out a dagger and walked towards their wagon. 'I can also cut off your filthy fingers. You won't need them anyway.'

Before he reached the cage, his companion put a heavy hand on his shoulder. 'Let the old dog bark all he wants. He's not worth the trouble of writing the report on the accident later.'

The angry man scoffed but sheathed his dagger back. 'Whatever, I'm going to feed the horses.'

'So how about this food, eh?' called the beggar again, but the Inquisitors ignored him. He sighed and sat back down.

Iris watched everything with indifference. What does it matter if we are hungry? She thought. The Inquisition will execute us as soon as we arrive at Amberguard, probably the day after tomorrow. Maybe it would be better if I died on the way from hunger than facing the Grand Inquisitor and my death sentence? She shivered. Just thinking about it terrified her.

When the Inquisitors started packing up their things and preparing to get back on the road, one of them - the reasonable one, as Iris named him in her mind, put a waterskin and some stale bread into their cage. The beggar immediately perked up and took it.

'You have my gratitude, lad,' he said.

The Inquisitor scoffed. 'Save your gratitude, old man. The girl looks pale, and she is a precious prisoner. You'd better feed her,' he said coldly and walked back to his horse.

The beggar sat in front of Iris and gave her a waterskin. She was surprised when her body took it without even thinking about it, taking big sips.

'Drink slowly, or you'll hurt your stomach, lass,' said the old man. She forced herself to slow down and hesitantly handed the waterskin back to him.

'Thank you,' she said.

'Eat.' He offered her bread. It was just a tiny slice, not nearly enough to satisfy one person's hunger, not to mention two hungry prisoners.

She took the slice, broke it in two and handed him one half. 'Let's share.'

He shook his head. 'You need it more than me. I'm old, and I ain't need much food anymore.'

'No, I'm not going to eat all anyway. My stomach is all clenched. Take it.'

The man rolled his eyes and sighed, accepting the bread. 'You are too kind.'

They ate in silence as the wagon started moving forward. The Inquisitors rarely talked with each other. They were constantly looking around, wary. When their eyes met the prisoners', they scowled and glanced away, not even trying to hide their disdain.

The beggar got back to his place at the other end of the cage, leaned on the bars and hummed some cheerful tune.

'How can you be so calm?' Iris finally asked, annoyed with him.

'Worrying about things I don't have control over ain't gonna change a thing,' he replied.

'Aren't you bothered that they are shipping us to our deaths? That everyone treats us as if we were a plague?'

'Not really. They are free to think whatever they want.'

Iris sighed. 'You are impossible. You must be mad.'

'Don't despair just yet, lass,' the old man said. 'You never know what fate awaits you at the end of this road.'

'I'm pretty sure I know. That's the problem,' she scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning away to look at the landscape.

When the Lord Sun was slowly disappearing behind the western horizon, they passed through the thick forest. The shadows were growing taller with every passing minute. Suddenly, Iris realised something that made her skin crawl. She looked at the beggar. He noticed her gaze and raised his brow questioningly.

'Are we going to camp in the middle of the forest for the night?' she asked, her voice a pitch higher than usual.

'Yes, probably. Why so jumpy?'

'What do you mean, why? What about the Shadows lurking around in the dark?'

'You don't have to worry about them while we're with those strapping young lads with more muscles than the brain. If there is one thing they are good at is keeping the Shadows away. Oh, and probably harassing defenceless young lasses too.'

'That is not reassuring at all.'

'Have you ever been outside the town during the night?'

'No, that would be stupid.'

'So, you listen diligently to your Church's classes, I see,' he smirked. 'Not all they say is true, as you probably realised already. There haven't been many Shadows in this area. The Inquisition is doing well in pushing them into more isolated areas. Sure, there can be a Shadow or two everywhere, but it's nothing you should concern yourself with.'

'Oh, I was quite sure the nights everywhere outside cities were crawling with them.'

'And it kept you at home after dark as a well-behaved lass, ain't it? That makes less trouble for the Church. Scared people don't fight back.' The man looked like he wanted to say more, the road narrowed, and one of the Inquisitors moved closer to the cage. The beggar closed his lips and looked away.

They stopped for a camp at a clearing, breaking the roll of the wagon in the middle of it. The Inquisitors spread out, busying themselves with preparing for the upcoming night. One of them was coming towards the cage carrying some vessel emitting a thick, slightly green smoke.

'What is that?' Iris asked.

The beggar looked over to the approaching Inquisitor. 'It's Church's special incense – they are using it to subdue the senses of magic users. It clouds the mind and makes focusing extremely hard.'

The knight put the vessel next to the wagon and went back to tend to his other duties. Iris felt her nostrils flared with a heavy herbal scent she was not familiar with, her throat tickled, and she coughed. She covered her mouth, moving to the other side of the cage, away from the smoke's source. But it was no use. A small vessel was producing a surprisingly vast amount of vapour, and it seemed Iris had already inhaled enough of it.

She was lightheaded, and her vision seemed to swim in and out of focus. She followed the Inquisitors with her eyes, but she felt her mind was constantly blacking out. One moment she saw a man preparing the wood for a fire, but when she blinked, the huge flame was blazing in the night. She shook her head, trying to get rid of a strange numbing fog clouding her mind, but to no avail. Iris let her eyes linger on the fire for a while, on its comforting, warm flames. If she only could reach far enough to get some of its energy, she was sure she could recover her wits. The girl outstretched her shackled hands towards the fire, but nothing happened. She frowned. It shouldn't be too far as she could see the flames. Why couldn't she feel them with her inner sense?

'There's no use in trying your magic now,' said a gruff voice next to her ear. She jumped, startled, realising the beggar was sitting right next to her. She hadn't noticed when he got here. He continued, ignoring her discomfort. 'They light the incense for the sole purpose of taking away your magic. During the night, they need a lot of light to make sure no Shadows creep around. And with all that radiance, a skilful Mage could escape easily.'

'Ugh,' she groaned. 'My head hurts now. Can you please give me some space? You stink!'

'Well, you don't smell of roses either, lass. I know it's uncomfortable, but I need you to be alert now.'

'What?' she asked, confused. 'Whatever for? It's not like they're going to let us get out of the cage.'

'You'll see. Just try not to fall asleep, alright?'

Iris scoffed but shook her head again, trying to drive away overflowing tiredness. She looked over at the Inquisitors. Three of them were sitting at the campfire, eating and laughing carelessly. Her stomach growled. It didn't look as if they were going to give them any food today. She sighed.

The darkness engulfed the forest. Iris was falling in and out of consciousness. The quiet crackling of the flames and rustling of the leaves in the wind lulled her to sleep. Her head was flopping from one shoulder to another, making her neck ache.

A surprised scream broke the sounds of the night, and Iris' eyes snapped open.

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