Prisoner

No matter how you look at it... that was too harsh.

A grown man fracturing his kid's ribs before selling him off to underground slave traders for some quick gold?

That didn't sound like any fantasy world I'd read about.

I guess when you're not the protagonist, born with incredible power and gorgeous looks, all that you're left with is the harsh reality of surviving in the medieval era - rife with poverty and injustice.

Well, there's no point lamenting about something I can't change. There were still things that mattered to me regardless.

I had to find a way back to my mother.

...

My head was resting upon something indescribably soft, and perfectly warm. It was comfier than any pillow I'd ever owned.

I felt a gentle pressure around my cheeks, accompanied by the comforting sound of quiet breathing above me.

"Mom?" Without thinking, I had hopelessly muttered something stupid.

"Hmm~?" A reserved voice spoke out to me. "No, silly..." She giggled, and moved her hands off my face.

I peeled back my eyelids and discovered a young girl gazing down at me. Her face was rough, and covered in faded bruises, and yet... she was smiling so brightly.

I propped myself up and looked around. Oh, that's right. I had almost forgotten where I had ended up.

The abhorrent sight of dead insects scattered across the ground and blood stains on the walls left me with an overwhelming feeling of nausea.

Then the ugly stench of rotting meats and moss pierced my nostrils, and I felt like death itself.

My face dropped into my palm, and I cursed under my breath.

"Hey. I understand."

The girl wrapped her arms around my body and embraced me. She moved her hand onto my hair, and rested her chin atop my head.

"It gets easier. I promise."

"Are you... an angel?"

She let out a hearty laugh, and shook her head.

After a few minutes of blissful silence, she moved away, and patted my clothes down. She had the most beautiful white locks, an adoring smile, and a set of alluring ruby eyes.

The toll of living in a damp, underground prison had scuffed her appearance, but she was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. Far prettier than anyone I knew in my past life as well - and I didn't need my memory to be in tact to know that for a fact.

"Tia." A short pause. "My name. It's Tia."

She brushed the left side of her hair behind her ear and moved into an elegant sitting position, reminiscent of a princess.

The girl was well-spoken, and very polite. I could've easily confused her for a rich nobleman's daughter... if she wasn't rotting as a slave in the same cell I was.

"I... I'm Lance. Lance Gre--" I was about to add my surname, but the image of a certain loathsome man took over my thoughts.

"Just Lance. Nice to meet you, Tia."

We shook hands, and I couldn't help but blush a little during the exchange. Her hands felt like those of a lifelong blacksmith's, and were covered in dirt.

Mine weren't in great shape either though. I stared at my palm, noting the ridiculous number of scrapes and cuts that had accumulated. It was almost as if I had been dragged all the way from the mage tower.

"Never shook a girl's hand before? I don't have cooties, y'know..."

Ah, looking at it from an outside perspective, it was definitely beyond rude to glare at your hand right after shaking someone else's.

I quickly apologised. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm, uh, I'm in pretty bad shape, huh?"

Her brows furrowed as she inspected me.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little."

Her expression darkened, and she clenched her fists.

"It's... it's not fair. Someone as young as you... it's just... This world, it's disgusting."

The click of a handle and the sound of a door scraping against the ground echoed throughout the cell block. Tia winced at the noise, and shot me an empathetic glance.

An eerie, high-pitched cackle descended the hall, following by the squeaking of a cart.

The sounds gradually became closer, until finally, I came face to face with one of the guards.

His eyes were discoloured, and his nose was crooked. His skin was holding on tight to his thin frame, revealing the man's deformed bone structure. One shoulder higher than the other. His right cheekbone prodding out more than his left. He had no hair, and half his teeth were gone.

He fixated on me, grinning wickedly. "And what're you gawking at, ugly shite?"

I looked away, hoping to avoid unnecessary confrontation.

"That's what I thought. I'll give ye extra food for being a good little doggie."

The deranged man chuckled to himself as he slid a small slop bowl through the metal bars. He continued laughing as he moved onto the cell next to us.

How does anyone expect us to eat... that?

The bowl was filled to the brim with a revolting green liquid and chunks of raw meat.

Tia made what looked like a prayer before picking up a piece of meat and forcing it into her mouth. Blood coated her lips and liquid dripped from her fingers onto the floor as she ate

She resembled a feral animal scrounging for food.

I joined her, forcing this revolting meal into my body to survive.