Dawn arrived with all too gloomy skies. It brought with it memories of a dark past that had been long repressed; a time best locked away in a palpable mental haze. Even still, they were uncomfortably recalled with disturbing lucidity. Her home, if it could still be called such, was a scarred shadow of its former self. Its sky, which had once shone a brilliant azure hue, was now a perpetual Cimmerian black. And in comparison, the foreboding clouds could only be thought comforting. But it was not the majestic blue Selena had hoped to see.
It was probable that she may never see the sky for a great deal of time. A thought tempered only by wishful thinking. Her trial was at best but a formality. And while the laws in this land were fair, they were certainly heavy handed. With no currency, knowledge of the law, or contacts, she had little hope in the coming proceedings. But, at least she received a trial – which would not have been the case if she had been anywhere but here.
Her captors were remarkably hospitable. Her cell had been furnished with a sleeping arrangement and even a wash basin. Meals were meager and bland, but nonetheless nourishing – all very different than what she had suspected. It was difficult to think of these people as her enemy when they have clearly done so much to make her more comfortable. These lands, she supposed, had that luxury.
A clanking at the back of the carriage door snapped Selena back to reality. She could hear some muttering as magical seals were released, every precaution being carefully observed and inspected. The government here was nothing if not methodical and meticulous, at least in her case. It was not so common to see an outsider, and there was always the fear of the unknown. The metal trinkets that bound her arms and legs were metal by convention. If it were only metal, she could have broken them, but their strength was augmented by a very high level magic. That, and the numerous other devices hidden throughout her robes suppressed mystical powers of a nature she could not begin to guess.
The door swung open soundlessly, its hinges well oiled and assiduously maintained. A tall figure stood outside on the cobbled street, menacingly built with a powerful aura. His name was Daron, the warden of the prison she had sojourned. From her brief experiences with him, his serious demeanor was certainly very real: he was not a man to be trifled with. However, he always carried himself with a compassion tempered by rigorous self-discipline. A virtuous man.
No words were exchanged as Selena was helped out of the carriage and into the spacious courtyard. The morning air was refreshing, but lacked its usual crispness. Nevertheless, she took a quick deep breath before continuing to the courthouse. The time for reminiscing has passed, and she quickly composed herself with a stiff resolve.
Above, she heard a low-rumbling thunder: a storm was brewing.
None.