Chapter 10 Prince Draven's Prisoner

-Celestoria, Ignisfell-

Eamon and Rosche, accompanied by the twins, arrived at the city gate. As they passed through, they immediately noticed a significant increase in the number of people on the streets compared to when they had left.

"It's incredible how the streets have transformed in just a few hours since we left. It was like a ghost town before," Rosche remarked, her eyes scanning the busy surroundings.

"Perhaps the mourning period is over, and people are ready to move forward with their lives," Eamon mused, offering his thoughts on the sudden change in the atmosphere.

Eowyn chimed in, her knowledge of local customs shining through, "Not quite, Eclipsarians usually mourn for 14 days, and in the case of royalty, they extend it for an additional 14 days."

Rosche raised an eyebrow, puzzled, "But it's been only 13 days since King Altair's passing. Something must have happened while we were away."

Davhil, a fellow traveler, interjected, shedding some light on the matter, "Rumors are spreading that there's trouble within the royal family. At the moment, the kingdom has no heir."

Curious about their new acquaintances, Rosche asked, "Are you folks from Celestoria too?"

Eowyn shook her head, No, our hometown is Umbralith, but our frequent travels often bring us to this area. The news of King Altair's passing has indeed spread rapidly, leaving a profound impact across the entire kingdom of Arantle. Given the current circumstances in Celestoria, it's no surprise that information travels fast."

Eamon, ever practical, urged them to press on, "Well, let's not linger. Geran might be awaiting us at Minstrel Chalice."

With a shared sense of purpose, the group continued on their journey, eager to reunite with their companion.

-Minstrell Chalice-

Eamon and Rosche, along with the twins, dismounted from their horses and entered the rustic tavern. The cozy atmosphere inside provided a welcome contrast to the harsh journey they had undertaken.

As they walked into the tavern, a warm smile greeted them. It was Geran, Rosche's brother. He embraced his sister, saying, "I'm glad you guys are okay." His voice was filled with relief as he held Rosche tightly, grateful for her safe return. Then, he turned to Eamon and patted his shoulder, showing his appreciation. "And you, Eamon, thank you for watching over her."

Eamon smiled, appreciating Geran's warm welcome. "It's okay, Geran; we looked out for each other. Rosche is a brave and capable fighter."

Rosche, curious about Mister Agnus, couldn't contain her excitement. She looked at Geran and inquired, "By the way, where is Mister Agnus? I have to tell him that we managed to save his people. It was a tough battle, but we succeeded."

Geran explained with a hint of concern, "He's taking a rest in his room, still recovering from his wounds of the recent events, but I'll notify him when he wakes up. He'll be relieved to hear the good news."

As the conversation continued, Geran noticed the two unfamiliar figures who accompanied Eamon and Rosche. His curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't resist asking, "Who are they? I don't remember seeing them before."

Rosche took a step forward, introducing the newcomers. "Oh, we met them when we fought the darkbane tribe. They also helped us greatly in the battle. This is Eowyn and her brother, Davhil." She gestured towards the twins.

Geran's eyes widened in recognition as he pointed at Eowyn. "You!" he exclaimed, clearly familiar with her. There was a hint of disbelief in his voice as he recalled their previous encounter.

Eowyn, equally surprised to see Geran, couldn't hide her recognition either. "You're the Flower guy," she said with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. It seemed that their prior interaction had left quite an impression on both of them.

Eamon, sensing the tension in the room, attempted to ease the situation. He asked, "Do you two know each other? It seems like there's a story here."

Rosche, puzzled by the sudden turn of events, asked, "You know each other? What's going on?"

Geran decided to provide some context. "She's the one who stole my Luminoflora flower." He shook his head, recalling the event as if it had happened just yesterday.

Davhil, Eowyn's brother, turned to his sister, shocked by the revelation. "So, he's the owner of the Luminoflora flower? You told me you're the one who found it," he said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Eowyn turned to her brother, admitting, "You wouldn't drink it if I told you the truth. You're so stubborn." She sighed, remembering the desperate circumstances that had led to her actions.

Davhil, feeling responsible for the situation, bowed his head in apology. "I apologize on behalf of my sister. She did it for me. I was very sick at that time and the Luminoflora was the only thing that could help."

Rosche, understanding the circumstances better now, offered her support. "It's okay, Davhil. I think your sister got desperate that time. If I were in her shoes, I'd do the same. You won't mind, right, Geran?"

Geran nodded, acknowledging the apology. "No, it's alright. I can see why she did it."

Eowyn, realizing that her actions had caused some trouble, decided to make amends. She brought out the Luminoflora she had taken and handed it to Geran. "And like I promised, here's half of the Luminoflora petals." She offered it hoping to make things right.

Geran received the Luminoflora with a nod of gratitude. "Alright, thank you," he said, appreciating the gesture.

As the tension in the room slowly dissipated, Rosche, who had been looking around the tavern, realized that Kiryo, their companion, was missing. She asked, "Hey, where is Kiryo, by the way?"

Eamon, who had his reservations about Kiryo, couldn't help but chime in with a hint of sarcasm, "Yeah, where is that jerk? It's not like him to disappear like this."

Geran explained, "Is he not with you? He volunteered to wait for you guys at the city gate, in case you returned. You guys didn't meet him there?"

Rosche frowned, concerned for their missing companion. "No, we didn't see him at the entrance. I hope he's okay." The worry in her voice was evident, and the group's earlier jubilant mood was tinged with uncertainty.

In the oppressive depths of the forbidding castle of Celestoria, within the confines of a dank and oppressive dungeon, a scene of harrowing torment unfolded, one that defied the spirit of a brave and resolute soul. Kiryo, imprisoned and bound, bore his suffering in stoic silence. The room was shrouded in shadows, the air heavy with an eerie stillness that contrasted starkly with the brutality being enacted.

The guard, a menacing figure clad in the dark armor of the Celestorian prison, wielded a cruel whip with malice in his heart. Each ruthless lash was intended to break not just Kiryo's body but also his spirit. The whip, a sadistic instrument of torture, was fashioned from leather strands embedded with shards of unforgiving metal, designed to rend flesh with merciless precision. As it cracked through the air, it left behind a symphony of pain, every strike etching into Kiryo's flesh.

But Kiryo, a beacon of unwavering bravery, refused to yield to his tormentors. His jaw clenched in determined resolve, he bore the agony with unflinching composure. The lashes carved deep, raw furrows into his skin, revealing the crimson life force beneath, but still, not a sound escaped his lips.

His back, once untouched and pure, now bore the intricate scars of his ordeal, a testament to his courage and iron will. The guard, frustrated by Kiryo's resilience, showed no mercy. His face remained an inscrutable mask of malevolence as he continued to deliver blow after excruciating blow. The room echoed only with the sound of the whip and the cruel laughter of the tormentor, as Kiryo's pain remained a silent agony.

In the depths of the castle of Celestoria, within that cruel and unforgiving dungeon, Kiryo's body became a canvas of scars that bore witness to his suffering. His spirit, unbroken and indomitable, shone as a beacon of resistance in the face of relentless torment. His future, though uncertain, remained resolute, a testament to the enduring strength of the human spirit.

In the eastern part of the castle, bathed in opulence, Prince Draven reclined on a sumptuous divan, surrounded by exquisite tapestries and dimly lit by flickering candles. He was indulging in sensual pleasures, accompanied by a trio of alluring courtesans who attended to his every desire. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the soft melodies of a lute played by a minstrel in the corner.

One of the courtesans, her voice a sultry whisper, leaned in and inquired, "Your Highness, we've heard rumors about a new prisoner. Is it true?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she fed the prince a succulent grape.

Prince Draven, a wicked grin dancing on his lips, savored the grape and replied, "Indeed, my dear. A nosy interloper who dared to question my authority. I've taken it upon myself to educate him in the error of his ways." He took a sip of wine and continued, "Whipping some humility into him should do the trick."

The other courtesans exchanged knowing glances, their expressions a mix of intrigue and amusement. The eldest among them, her voice laced with seduction, purred, "And have you succeeded in breaking his spirit, Your Highness?"

Prince Draven chuckled, his fingers lightly tracing the curves of a crystal goblet. "Not yet," he said with a hint of anticipation in his eyes. "But I take pleasure in the process. He's a tough one, I'll give him that."

The third courtesan, a young and enchanting beauty, poured wine into the prince's goblet, her voice tender as she spoke, "Perhaps, my lord, it would be more enjoyable to have him witness the decadence of your court, as he languishes in the dungeons."

Prince Draven considered her words, a devious thought forming in his mind. "A splendid idea, my dear. Perhaps it's time he learned the true price of defiance."

The courtesans exchanged satisfied glances, understanding that their prince's whims were as capricious as they were enticing. In the luxurious chamber of Prince Draven, as wine flowed and delicacies were savored, the prisoners' fate took a darker turn.

-Mistrell Chalice-

Inside the cozy confines of the minstrel chalice, a sense of quiet anticipation hung in the air as the group huddled together to discuss their plan. Agnus lay unconscious on a nearby table, while Eamon and Rosche remained at his side, keeping a watchful eye over the injured man.

Geran, Eowyn, and Davhil, the determined trio, exchanged a few words in hushed tones. It was clear that time was of the essence, and the urgency to locate Kiryo weighed heavily on their shoulders. Geran turned to his companions, his voice firm and resolute, "We need to find Kiryo as quickly as possible. Eamon, Rosche, please stay here and take care of Agnus. We'll search for Kiryo."

Eamon nodded in agreement.

"Be careful, and bring Kiryo back to us," Rosche said with a somber tone.

Geran, Eowyn, and Davhil acknowledged Rosche's words with a determined nod, and with that, they set forth on their mission to find Kiryo. As they departed, the minstrel chalice's warm and rustic interior offered little comfort to the two left behind, who could only hope for the safe return of their missing friend and the recovery of Agnus.

In the opulent chambers of the castle of Celestoria, the room of the Queen, Melisandre, was adorned with rich tapestries and intricate furnishings. Her graceful presence was accentuated by the soft glow of candlelight, which cast a warm aura upon the room as she delved into a multitude of scrolls, engrossed in her duties.

A gentle knock on the door drew her attention, and without hesitation, she invited the guard inside, "Come in."

The guard entered the room, his demeanor respectful and his voice hushed as he addressed the queen, "Your Grace, Prince Draven has returned to the castle, and he has brought someone with him."

Queen Melisandre, her curiosity piqued, set aside the scrolls she had been studying and inquired, "Who is the person that Prince Draven has brought with him? Do you have any information?"

The guard, his expression filled with uncertainty, responded, "I'm afraid I do not have that information, Your Grace. The prince did not provide any details."

Queen Melisandre's brow furrowed as she pondered the situation, unaware of Prince Draven's intentions. She then said, "Very well. Please inform Prince Draven that I would like to speak with him."

The guard nodded in acknowledgment of the queen's request and promptly left to relay her message to Prince Draven, leaving Queen Melisandre to contemplate the new development, her thoughts veiled in an air of intrigue and uncertainty.

As Geran, Eowyn, and Davhil continued to navigate the crowded streets of Celestoria in search of Kiryo, they approached several locals, inquiring about a man whose portrait Geran had drawn based on Kiryo's description.

Geran: "Excuse me, have any of you seen a man who looks like the person in this portrait?"

Geran presented a sketch of Kiryo, a tall, well-built man with brown hair.

Local 1: "I'm sorry, I don't recognize him."

Local 2: "No, I haven't seen him."

The twins, Eowyn and Davhil, chimed in, trying to assist despite their limited knowledge of Kiryo's appearance.

Eowyn: He looks like this. Maybe you've seen someone who looks similar?"

Local 3: "Hmm, I can't recall anyone like that."

As Geran and davhil continued their search, Eowyn overheard a conversation among some locals that caught her attention.

Local 4: "I heard Prince Draven captured someone for defying him."

Local 5: "but it seems like he's not from here."

Local 4: "Yeah, I can't believe after King Altair's demise, Prince Draven's temper has gotten worse. If his father were still alive, something like this wouldn't happen."

Local 6: "You're right, and now I'm worried about our future here in Celestoria."

Eowyn, ever astute and an adept eavesdropper, immediately suspected that the person the locals were talking about might be Kiryo, a friend of Rosche's. She nudged Geran and relayed her suspicions.

Eowyn: "Geran, I believe they're talking about someone who matches the description in your portrait.

Geran, his sense of urgency growing, approached the locals who were discussing the situation.

Geran: "Excuse me, we're looking for a friend who looks like the person in this portrait. Have any of you seen someone like this?"

Local 5: The local squinted at the portrait and said, "It does look like someone I've seen, but that person was captured by Prince Draven."

Geran: Do you know where they might have taken him?"

Local 6: "We're not sure where they took him, but they might have taken him to the castle."

Upon hearing this crucial information, Geran and the twins quickly made their way back to the minstrel chalice, eager to inform Rosche and Eamon of the latest developments in their search for Kiryo.