Light Eyes; DarK Eyes

Three days later; sitting in her study, which was in her suit of rooms in the palace; Aurora received a report from interrogation. After rereading the report twice, she wondered why she even bothered to be surprised. The Darric had said that he wouldn’t talk. He wasn’t saying anything, that was for sure. Well, aside from making infuriating little remarks to be annoying. It was brilliant way to move the interrogation from information gathering to petty revenge. She sat quietly for a moment, thinking. Without losing the thoughtful look, she pulled a piece of parchment toward her and wrote out an order.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

“Enter.” The door opened, and a guard entered.

“We have him here, highness.” She looked up from the paperwork.

“Fine. You may bring him in.” He nodded. After some particularly nasty thuds outside, Aurora got up and looked outside. A guard caught the prisoner a particularly nasty blow across the ribs, knocking him into the doorway. Another man was picking himself up off the ground. A second look at the Darric told her all she needed to know about what happened. A particularly nasty Darric profanity slipped from her lips. He looked over at her, surprise written on his scratched face.

“Who taught you that? Not your teacher, I’m sure.” He said, still leaning against the door frame.

“You’d be surprised what people on the battlefield will say.” She told him.

“Unlikely,” He stated before a guard pulled him away, not being particularly gentle. In the second his back was turned, a flash of metal caught her eye. Another profanity left her. She pulled the captain of the guard aside.

“You used iron? What possessed you, man? He’ll die!” One of the major weaknesses of the Darric was that they were very sensitive to the iron levels in their bodies. Even prolonged contact with it could kill them. For informational purposes, it was never, ever used. That was why the Darric had invented steel, so that they could fight at the same level as the Celestine. It was presumed that the Celestine people had a similar weakness, but as of yet, it went undiscovered. That the prisoner was still standing was incredible. And he had been making jokes, too…

“It was necessary, Your Highness. He is very strong, and quite clever. He nearly killed the guard we assigned to him within the first twenty minutes.

“He’s been cuffed with iron for three days?” She was astounded.

“Off and on, yes.” The captain answered.

“Take him inside, please.” was all she said. That was insane. Most would have died after a day or two…

Even as she thought that, he stumbled, badly. The solid stone wall broke his fall…and snapped his arm in two as well; he slammed into it so hard. Now that she looked clearly, his breathing was irregular, and his eyes glazed. The man was keeping himself conscious through sheer will power alone, and the pain from the broken arm wasn’t helping in the least.

“The key,” she snapped at the captain, who looked bewildered.

“What?”

“The key to his cuffs, quickly.” She said, holding out a hand. Looking at her like she was crazy, he handed them to her. It was lucky for the Darric that she had. Within seconds of removing the poisonous metal from his wrists, he was unconscious. Aurora caught him before he hit the ground. A head wound was not what he needed right now, and it gave him far too much of an excuse.

“Put him on the couch, please.” She said, handing the iron binds to the captain. The soldiers did so, immediately. “Thank you. Now, leave.” Nobody moved.

“Your Highness, for your own safety—”

“You don’t think I can’t deal with a half-dead prisoner of war?” She asked disgustedly. “Leave, gentlemen, I assure you that that is not the case.” Reluctantly they left, sending backwards glances at her until she shut the door.

Turning, Aurora examined her new charge. His arm was definitely broken and judging by his breathing, most of his ribs as well. The iron had left angry, raw, red marks on his wrists. Removing his shirt to see the extent of the damage, Aurora hissed with sympathy. The interrogation team certainly hadn’t been kind. Bruises and cuts were the least of it. All in all, he looked like he’d been thrown over a cliff and then been flayed alive. There were iron marks around his throat as well. Setting the broken arm, she activated a healing magic, letting it mend the cracks.

The ribs were harder; she had to realign them with the magic before fusing the bones. Nine ribs were broken, in total. Wiping sweat off her brow, she took a second to look at his face. It was set in a peaceful look, until you realized that he was pale as a sheet and his jaw was clenched. If he’d been born Celestine, he would have had to beat the girls off with a stick. Shaking her head to dispel such thoughts, Aurora set to work on the cuts, no doubt whip-induced, that covered his chest and waist. He would die from the iron and torture combined, so one of them had to be dealt with.

By the time she was done patching him up, she was exhausted. It was amazing that he’d survived the torture he’d been put through. Even without the iron, he could easily be unconscious for days. She was this tired just putting him back together…she didn’t want to know how he felt. Leaving him where he was, she went to the bathroom, and turned on the spray of the shower, making it as cold as she could stand. Standing under the frigid water woke her up, and helped rejuvenate some of the energy she’s used. That done, wrapped in a huge towel, she went to her closet, ignoring the large chest that stood near it. The chest was full of dresses, ornately decorated. She used them only at very formal occasions.

Aurora had never been much for clothes that took several maids to help with. She’d always preferred fighting clothes. They were at war, after all, and she could get away with it. Besides, they were far more comfortable. After drying her long hair, the only womanly thing she would stand for in everyday life, as much as possible, she brushed it out. It reached to mid thigh, fairly short by most standards. Many women’s hair fell to their ankles.

Leaving it loose to air dry, she walked back into her study, which was connected
to her bedroom by a door. The Darric; she realized that she didn’t know his name; was right were she’d left him. Aurora really hadn’t expected him to go anywhere. If he woke up in a week, she’d be surprised.