Where Is He?

Their footsteps echoed loudly as they made their way down the fire-lit passageway. Pitch-black cells lined each side of the corridor, scratching sounds, incoherent whispers, and occasional screams coming from them.

The chosen one cowered behind the half-elf, the dim brightness of the burning flames passing over her horrified expression as she avoided looking too deep into the compartments.

Thora led on, down the hall, taking a few twists and turns, earning a hand full of confused glances here and there from the guards who roamed the prison.

Finally, they came to a stop at a junction, a particular cell a few paces ahead awaited them as the elfyn cleared her throat loudly, her eyes searching for something unknown to Maraja.

Silence reigned for a moment, the air heavy with the stench of men and women who had not visited a bath or toilet in ages.

"Thora?" The Nawi whispered, concern heavy in her voice.

Another set of echoing footsteps were heard, as it approached from another hall, rounding the corner of the junction to meet them. The man smiled, nodding slightly at Thora who stepped aside, leaving Maraja bare to his intrusive stare.

He opened his arms as if wanting a hug.

"Thora, who is this and where is my brother?" A look of fear passed the Nawi's face, a sweat breaking from her forehead.

The man looked to the half-elf in question.

"I thought it best you introduce yourself and your…wager personally," Thora stated, her hands at her back.

"Is that so?" He looked to the uneasy Nawi, his gaze taking her in before speaking. "Maraja, I am Arcan. Steward of Eryndor and Naltaniera. I called for you to discuss a little bit more than your behavior back in Naiad." He began pacing back and forth, the sound of his boots reverberating throughout the hall. "You see, you are not only the Nawi of this incomparable realm, but you are also its princess and heir to the throne. The last in the pure bloodline of the Emberglows."

He brought a leather-gloved hand to his chin as he continued pacing. "I understand that Calmari isn't the best at manners, but she is a ruler, a Hilden. And so she deserves the respect of one. The fact that you are chosen doesn't give you the reign to so much as raise your voice at her especially when you are as inexperienced as you are. You know nothing of our culture, of our…struggles, yet you attempt her life. I will not tolerate that, so I would…love to hear your side of this…impertinent story."

Maraja's brows knitted together in a rebellious frown. "I did nothing to her. I have told Thora the last of my memories before waking here, and I have no memory of laying a finger on her." She smiled slightly at the man, a dangerous glint in her blue eyes. "But if I did somehow hurt her, then she deserved it." Her eyes met the elfyn, impatience brewing in them. "Now where is my brother?"

The steward chuckled lightly. "You are quite the spectacle, child. Let me tell you something." He took a few steps towards her. "There is something called order in this realm, and we Elarans are at the top of that chain. Humans, however, aren't even a part of it."

A vein bulged beneath the Nawi's lush hair, her fists clenching. "Where…is my brother?"

Arcan smirked, an unknown emotion playing in his dark eyes. "He's in that cell." He moved aside, stretching a hand towards the cell at the end of the hall.

Maraja took quick steps toward the cell door. "Mason," She stopped in front of it, squinting desperately for any signs of movement from her brother. "Mason, it's me, Mavis. Can you hear me?" The chosen one was met with silence, as a glow seeped into her eyes, fingers wandering towards the rods.

The moment she made contact with the cell, a jolt of energy shot through her body, causing her to recoil in pain. Suddenly, a mysterious blue cube appeared, expanding and morphing until it surrounded the cell.

Maraja stepped back in fear, rubbing the sore arm that had touched the bars. The steward came up behind her bearing a little smile. "Your brother is completely safe Nawi, you need not worry. What you do need to worry about is yourself if you try touching that again. Druid magic, quite efficient in such…cases."

The Nawi looked into the glowing cell, her eyes beginning to water slightly. "What do you want from me?! Why won't you show me my brother?!" hurt and anger began swirling amidst the gold in her eyes.

"Nawi!" Thora's voice cut through her brewing outburst, as they communicated wordlessly.

Maraja visibly struggled, as she tried ever so desperately to not lash out aimlessly. "You will show me, my brother, this instant!"

"Or will I?" He smirked playfully at her, as his eyes meticulously observed every movement of hers.

She gritted her teeth in clear frustration, pushing a fist his way. The steward slightly tilted his head backward, avoiding her measly attempt at assault.

A low glow snuck into her eyes as she brought her palm forward, specs of golden energy gathering at the middle of her palm.

Arcan nimbly intertwined his gloved hand with hers, twisting her arm backward in a painful way as he whispered into her ear. "Would you look at that, already learning? How…sweet." His eyes drifted between the two princesses. "I'm afraid a person of your status cannot go on this way." He let go of her arm, gesturing disgustedly at her not-so-composed form as he circled back to face her. "So here's the deal. I will train you, and when you pass your first test, you get to see your…brother."

"I want to see him…to know he's well. Show him to me!" The chosen stood her ground.

The steward folded his arms, shaking his head from side to side. "Very well." He brought forth a hand, the other, cautiously touching the bars. "There he is." An orb took form above his outstretched palm, the misty blue inside it clearing out.

"Mason!" Maraja's watery eyes widened as she moved closer to the orb.

As Arcan's hands closed around the orb, it began to disintegrate, leaving behind a trail of sparkling dust, the colors in his eyes fading away. He let out a heavy sigh and walked over to the Nawi, who looked on with a defiant, yet dismayed expression. "Maraja, I know this isn't the least bit easy…but it's what has to be done. Elaran magic relies too much on emotion for you to have someone that close to you around all the time, let alone a human. You know, I knew your mother."

"And so what?" She looked up at him, daring him to go on.

Ignoring her tantrum, he went on. "She was truly…sensational, Maraja. I don't know of any Elaran that could measure up to her, even now. I simply want you to be better. A better princess, a better chosen." He smiled genuinely at her. "So, what do you say?"