Weapons don't weep

some children are simplyborn with tragedy in their blood

Three days in confinement to think about what he had done. As if he hadn't thought about it for days already. But he could survive this, that was for sure. He would suffer his punishment in silence and be done with it. Three days weren't that long. And not that his aunt could justify him being away for so long. He had a marriage to attend to, after all. And how could she explain to her future in-laws that the husband they had picked for her daughter, was after all a murderous criminal. He knew what his aunt was doing. This was just to make him make sense, to remind him of his manners, of his upbringing. And still, he didn't know if he should feel relieved, or more angry than ever.

If he fell even a step behind with the guards that restrained him, he immediately got a shove in his lower back. Ezekiel let himself be dragged up the stairs as he knew he was going to the tower. He inhaled deeply as he bent his head back down and moved on forwards. He knew these douche-bags would love nothing more than if he started to fight. But Ezekiel had already accepted his faith and had completely shut himself of. It was embarrassing enough that he had to be put in time-out.

The bars opened in front of him as he looked at the cold cell that would be his. He got pushed in the back once more and with dragging feet he made his way in the cell. He listened as the closed the bars behind him and how they rattled with the lock. He didn't grant them the satisfaction of looking over his shoulder and waited until the guards left. Their taunts echoed through the room for a while, and when it was gone, he exhaled sharply. It was tempting to break his hand one more time against the walls, but as he flexed his fingers, he still felt the nagging pain in that hand. So he dragged his hands through his hair to try to fix the messed up strands and he started to pace through the length of his cell. And stupidly, the only thing he could think about, was that if he still had his staff, Kenai would break him out in no time.

NC

Knighthood lies above eternity;

What was supposed to be him getting water for Myrddin ended up in something else entirely. Without warning the guard had been arrested and escorted to a jail cell. Which could only mean one thing. And given by the fact that the other guards weren’t saying a thing. It meant that the Governess had returned to Lythrania and had heard of what happened. Or what he failed to prevent from happening. There were no visitors in the first few hours, there was nothing but solitude. Until those doors had opened up. Until his own father stood before him on the other side of the bars. But the man had no idea to why his son was in this mess. And while he tried to talk to him about it, he simply couldn’t find the right words. Only that he had failed to protect Myrddin. That he had failed to do the thing he had trained for all these years. It was a short visit, but one he wouldn’t forget. Mainly because it was followed by someone else. The Governess herself.

After that visit he was left shaken up, the woman had broken him to the core and the harm that was done. It would be visible in the future to say the least. He was left without food, only got water in the first day. Sleep hadn’t been a thing. Mainly because the nightmares kept him away of what could happen to his family, to Myrddin, to everyone he had ever loved. Which caused something to happen for sure.

It wasn’t until the doors opened up once more that the man looked up from the dark corner of his cell. Looking nothing like the person he had been before he had gotten in. His hair was losing it’s color quite rapidly. Though that wasn’t something he could see for himself. But as another person was escorted into another cell he frowned deeply. Ezekiel. What? Shyam didn’t move a muscle when the other was being locked up as well. If anything he hadn’t foreseen this. What was happening? How many days had passed? How was Myr doing? Did he know?

After the guards had left and the silence had returned he did eventually step out of the shadows of his cell. The bare lightning that they had now fell on his blonde, greyish hair, and his pale face. ’Ezekiel.’ He muttered, voice barely audible.

it doesn’t live off fame,
but rather deeds.