-{Chapter II: The Flame, The Wolf, and The Jail}-

The ones who have the hardest life, have the most stories to tell. – George, a highly regarded mercenary.

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– Alexandrith, wake the hell up! – Demoros screams in my head, which only makes it rattle and pain courses it's way into my conscious. The stone floor felt cold on my skin when I finally opened my eyes.

– Ugh... where are we? – I groan in a dazed tone.

– In all honesty, I've never really been sure... – Demoros states.

– Huh... oh, uh... well, do you know where they took us? – I ask, in a repetitive manner, without even realizing what Demoros had just stated.

– Oh, well, it would seem that they took us to some kind of jail, not sure which one though, – He begins to ponder.

And so, I barely lift my head to look at my surroundings. I was in a dingy brown stone brick cell, however, the entrance to the cell was made out of metal bars. I blinked once, then narrowed my sight trying to see through the oddly bright torchlight. And after awhile the orangey glow fills the cell across from me, and I see a man, who looks as if he were in his late twenties, staring me down. His orangy-scarlet eyes seemed as if fire itself was painted onto his irises as he leans his back on the stone wall of his cell.

"So, the new Cursed finally wakes?" He smirks.

"Oh, is he now?" Another, way deeper, voice calls from the cell to the left of his.

"So, why'd you get thrown in here?" The inmate across the hall questions me.

"Uh..." My mind goes blank.

– He's a flame-Cursed... – Demoros pops into my mind.

– And why did I need to know that right this second? – I ask.

– I just thought you'd like to know that, and I wanted bragging rights for catching it first, – He chuckles to himself.

– Really? Is that the best reason you got...? – I grumble.

– It's honest at least... – He states.

"So... not one for talking?" The inmate, flame-Cursed, comments, "That's fine, I won't judge..."

"Leave him alone..." The other inmate, I can't quite see from this angle, grumbles.

"Hey, I wasn't saying anything offensive, I was just trying to talk, ya know?" The flame-Cursed replied.

And as they begin to argue about whether or not to talk to me, I find myself slowly sliding towards the back of the cell. And I only realized how small the cell actually was once I felt the cold stone press against my spine. My wings, why can't I feel them? I spin turn to see that they were now gone.

– It's okay, they just vanish when you're not attentively using them, – Demoros voice calms me down slightly as he explains, – And only full-blooded Demons, Angels, or more powerful beings can see them. –

I let out a sigh, then pull my knees up to my chest. I lower my head until it is resting on my knees. And I slowly begin to pass out to the sound of the both of them arguing. Then I'm asleep within a minute or so.

"Hey... Dark one, it's time to get up," I open my eyes to the sharp, blinding, torchlight pouring into my cell from the hallway.

"Huh... where am..."I whisper to myself as I push myself from the stone floor, "Right..."

"We're gonna need to get to the mess hall; wouldn't want to disrupt the guards' schedule now would we?" The other inmate from last night spoke in that same old deep tone.

I could finally see the both of them in the light, and the flame-Cursed had dim brick coloured hair and a slight goatee that matched the same colour. He was slightly tan, with a dull red tint added to it. Then I saw his marking, like a bright scar, it glowed and shimmered the same colour as his eyes, that orangy-scarlet colour, in the torchlight. And behind him was a hulking dark-skinned brute of a man. The other inmate? He had dark black, buzz cut, hair and a small five-o'clock shadow. His grey eyes loomed through the bars, and a slight sadness seemed to flow behind them.

Why would he be sad, I would think he'd be angrier inside here, not sad? I guess I could ask him about it later... I push myself from my resting position, and my joints don't agree with me when I come to a stand. I stretch for a second, then leave the cell.

"Now then, we can show you to the mess hall," The flame-Cursed advises in a happy manner, "Oh, I'm, Ralph, by the way, and this here is, Greg..."

"I could've introduced myself you know," Greg grumbles at Ralph.

"Alright, I'll think about that next time..." Ralph replies.

"No, you won't," Greg narrows his eyes at Ralph.

"Fine, fine, ya got me," Ralph raises his hands in submission, then he turns to me, "Anyway... what's your name?"

"Huh... I-I'm, Alexandrith Reign, but you can just call me Alex... Everybody does... well, everybody did..." I answer his question, and introduce myself.

"Damn... sounds rough..." Greg tries to reassure me.

"How about this, you can get all of it off your chest, and if you want we could tell you our story to cheer you up?" Ralph tries to put emphasis on the fact that he wants to tell his 'backstory'.

"Well, you can sit with us; that is if you want to?" Greg motions to an empty seat across from him as he sits.

And so I nod, then sit in the chair opposite of Greg, then Ralph sits next to me. The table was a small square table, which would only fit about four people. I let out a deep breath of air, at least these two aren't so bad...

"Well, Ralph, you look like you're about to explode, so go on tell him the story," Greg rolls his eyes at Ralph.

"Hey, I didn't look that anxious, did I?" He question, and with a nod from Greg. He lets out a sigh, then begins to explain, "Well, to start y'all probably need to know that I'm Marked with the power of Fire, but that's not as cool as Greg over here. He's a freaking Werewolf, I know classic right! Anyway, I'm getting off topic... Now Greg here was running rampant through the streets of Helmgard, ya know, the city we're right outside of."

So that's where we are, I've only been to Helmgard a few time myself. However that was back when my father would take me, I wonder where he is right now...

"And before you get the wrong idea I wasn't just trying to run around destroying things; I was... I was actually trying to get an Angel summoned," Greg interrupts Ralph with his own statement.

"Right... I... I forgot..." A sorry, and sad tone leaves Ralph as he comments.

"Well, what happened?" I try to probe the reason behind the sudden sadness.

"Maybe another time," Greg groans, "For right now, Ralph, finish the story."

"Right, right, anyway, as Greg was ravaging through the city streets I was beginning to track him down. And before you ask, I was actually a pretty well-paid bounty hunter, or I guess mercenary would be more of a fitting title," Greg shoots him a glare, "Okay, okay, I get it, I'll get on with the story. Anyway, back to the story at hand, I was tracking Greg from the rooftops, mostly because if I were to have been following on the ground level he would've most definitely spotted me. Then I would've lost the element of surprise.

However, it didn't take long until I had to break my cover and begin the full-on assault. I, of course, assaulted him at first from the roof with a volley of arrows. Although, with only having five arrows, he dodged each of them, and so I was down to fighting with nothing but flame and steel. And while I can control the element of fire I can't necessarily shoot fire from my hands, whether it be a stream of flames or a kind of fireball. But, I can move the flame I create onto an object, hence my blade at the time. Although, I don't recall actually getting a hit on you with my flaming blade."

"There was that one time, I still got the scar, although it's hard to see," Greg states and points at the right side of his waist, "It would probably be visible if I were in my werewolf form right now."

"Well, I only remember getting swatted like a fly when I tried to strike you down. Then our little fight was ended when those damn Divine Guard bastards decided to surround the both of us, and take us to this hell of a prison," Ralph crosses his arms in a pouting manner.

"Sounds like you guys didn't really have a welcoming introduction to this place..." I state my thought aloud, then immediately regret it. Both of them stare at me with what seems like stunned reactions, "Sorry I didn't mean it like that I was just trying to make a joke..."

"It's fine I just wasn't expecting that kind of joke from someone like you..." Ralph is the first to speak, "no offense but I thought ya were going to be the silent type."

"You're just not good around strangers, am I right?" Greg states.

"Yeah, you could say I'm not the best at it..." I state.

"Then what makes us any different?" Ralph blankly asks.

"Well, I don't know, you guy don't seem that bad, I guess..." I try to come up with some kind of reasoning behind my actions.

"Oh, alright, I guess I can see that being true," Ralph smirks.

"Well, I guess I should tell you my story now shouldn't I; story for a story..." I state my mind aloud.

"I mean you don't have to if you don't want to," Greg comments.

"It's fine, it's not that it's bad or anything..." I conter him, before I begin to explain everything that had happened up until this point. I watch their expressions change from surprised, stunned, amazed, and angered, although not in order of course.

"Wait, wait, wait, you really have wings?" Ralph shoots me a questioning glare with his eyebrows furrowed.

Although instead of responding, a small smirk begins its way across my face, – Should I show them? – I ask sarcastically.

– Go right on ahead, – Demoros answers cheerfully.

I smile and a bubbling desire to laugh wells up inside me. Then I focus my attention on the wings on my back, forcing them to unfold. They become visible and extent outwards barely colliding with the ceiling, which makes me grimace slightly. I look back to Ralph and Greg's shocked expressions. Then their faces slowly grow into dissatisfaction, then anger. Questions begin in my head, yet Ralph nor Greg are looking at me. They're looking behind me.

And so, I slowly turn around to face the tip of a blade. Worry begins to wash over me as I follow the length of the blade until I see its user. Full-helm, light armour, and the sword was obviously a rapier. It was my captor, well, why wouldn't she be here?

"Guards!" She orders, "Contain him."

Then without hesitation, I'm clubbed upside the head, and the last thing I remember is falling towards the ground.

"Uh..." I groan as I lift my head to a blinding light surrounding the room around me.

"Finally awake are we?" I turn my head to see the Blessed soldier leaning on the wall.

I look down at the cold metallic seat I have been asleep in, there were leather restraints holding me down by the wrists and the ankles. I curl, and uncurl, my fingers to regain some kind of feeling in them. Then try to pull them free from the restraints, testing how strong they were. And not to my liking, my arms barely even moved an inch towards me before the restraints pulled against them.

"Don't try it," The Blessed soldier in front of me stated, "With this barrier, there is no way the likes of you would ever be able to break through them."

A slight smirk tried to pull at the edge of my lips, however, I resisted the temptation. And forced my gaze away from them and down to my lap until only my tattered fabric pants were in my sight.

"So, now that you're finally able to..." She huffs as she crossed her arms, "Let's answer some questions shall we?"

I resisted the urge to glare at her and kept my gaze towards my trousers.

"Ah... so I see you haven't lost your silent trope..." She whispers; making me raise an eyebrow. What does she mean by that? Has she been watching me? I furrow my eyebrows as I lift my gaze back up to her, "Now, first, how in the world did you summon those... wings in here?"

I shrug and break from her menacing glare after a few seconds of silence.

"Really now?" She grumbles, then within a second she flashed her rapier to my throat, "How about now?"

I tried to hold back my the gulp in my throat thinking that it might be cut if I were to gulp. However, after a few seconds, I gulp back the dryness of my throat.

"Do you want to answer now," She hissed venom, "Or are we going to have to do this the hard way?"

"I... I don't know how I did it..." I hesitantly answer.

"Oh, really, maybe this'll jog your memory?" She states in a sinister manner, before shoving her blade into my right shoulder. Overwhelming pain rushes to the new found wound, and forces out a blood-curdling scream from within me, "Are you going to answer me questions truthfully now!"

"But I am!?" I whimper.

"Then where are they now?" She growled.

My mind went blank, Demoros was right, she can't see them. "They're on my back..." I wryly state.

"Are they now..." She raises her tone to a more cheerful tone, "I should've known..." A chill runs down my spine at the sudden tone change, then as if I had cued it by stiffing my body; she twists the blade. Her golden eyes filled with 'joy' were just a ploy as she now leaned in with a menacing rage burning behind her pupils. "If you want to keep this game up we can go like this all day..."

Her words resonate in my head and their echo numbed the pain from my arm, "But I'm telling you the truth! Why won't you listen to me!?" I begin to blindly yell.

"Because, there is simply no way to be able to get around this barrier without someone's help, now tell me the truth!" She states before lowering her voice into more of a growl.

– Just show her? – Demoros advises.

– Do you think that'd help? – I whine.

– Won't know until you do it, – Demoros suggests.

– Right, – I agree before focusing all my attention on my wings. And with a swooshing sound of skin sliding against skin, the room goes silent.

I lift my gaze to the soldier who was now standing a few steps away from me. I turn to the rapier still embedded in my arm, It had to of been pushed so far that it was now poking out from the back end of the chair. It also pinned my right wing to the chair, probably why there was so much intense pain. Then I turned back to the soldier who seemed to now be contemplating, and pondering, on her own thoughts.

"So they really are your own movable wings?" She hesitates for a second before asking.

"That's what I was trying to tell you..." I answer, and after awhile of awkward silence, I broke it with, "Now am I free to go?"

"For now," She states, then pulls her rapier free from my flesh before turning away from me, "You'll probably end up in here again, but I won't be able to tell you what the next person to question you will be like. So, don't fail us, Alexandrith."

Questions flood my brain, yet before I could ask a single one she had already stepped out from the interrogation room. A nurse came in and bandaged my bleeding wounds, then two guards came in and released me from my restraints and took me back to my holding cell. The unanswered questions still resonated within my head as I sat on the prison bed.

Then I looked to a pile of folded clothes on my left. It was a prison jumpsuit, the same one that Ralph and Greg were both wearing. And so I slip into it, however, once I try to get the shirt on; it snags on the rim of my wings. Silence consumes everything for a short moment before a bubbling laughter forces its way from within me. And I begin to chuckle before slowly growing into a quiet laughter.

– Didn't honestly expect that, – Demoros states with laughter behind his words.

– Totally caught me by surprise too... – I agree with him before forcing my wings to rip through the new inmate clothing.

And the tear echoed through the cold silence, however, I didn't care how loud it was. I wasn't necessarily trying to be quiet at this point. I layed down on the prisoner cot, and close my tired eyes. Although, today was roughly short, I was mainly unconscious for the entire thing, but nonetheless it was a tiring experience. It's not every day that you get bashed upside the head then interrogated for answer through the means of torture.

I wonder how long it'll take to get out of here... I ponder the ideas before slowly drifting to sleep.

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So, what'd you think will happen to our main protagonist now? How long will he stay locked up?

Thank you all for reading this far, and farewell.

And until next time, sincerely,

Scoutmetal15x