A scream echoed throughout the cells, and Sion's eyes narrowed while breathing heavily as the figure staggered backwards, its cloak engulfed in embers flickering in the shadows of the walls.
The figure hissed at him violently, smoke rising, before darting back through the still bars and vanishing into the darkness like a wraith.
Sion dropped the torch, panting.
His arms trembled. Not from fear but from the adrenaline. From the realization that nothing in his life would ever be the same again.
Someone wanted him dead already.
He hadn't even begun to move… And yet, someone already saw him as a threat.
He sank to the floor again, fingers tightening into fists.
No one was coming to save him; he knew no one, had no friend, nor did he know if the original owner of the body had any sort of family, but one thing was certain.
He would have to play smart. Play quietly. And most of all… survive until he found his footing in a world that seemed to be overridden by broken power and laws, as well as gods.
Sion took a deep breath, rubbing his palms together as his breath formed cold mists. The cell was now freezing due to one of the torches being put out and one was not enough to keep it warm.
The area seemed like a place for special prisoners, one that they found not only as a threat but something more. After a little while, Sion fell asleep against the cold wall, the shackles around him biting into his wrists due to the struggle earlier and the long period of time they had been on him.
While he was sleeping, he heard a beeping sound echoing in his mind, though he paid it no mind, since he thought it was just a dream of the machines he was hooked up to in his previous life.
After a while of being asleep, a loud clang on the metal bars jolted him up from his sleep and his brows furrowed when he saw a few guards walk in.
"What in the gods name..." One of the guards gasped and the others exchanged glances.
They stared in disbelief at the melted bars of the cell, scorched walls, broken bench and the ashes on the flooralong with a piece of the dark cloak in a corner of his cell.
Another guard whispered, "Was it a breakout or something else?"
"It cannot be that he was asleep when we came in here; he is only half awake," Another murmured, slightly unnerved.
Sion looked between them, his eyes groggy, but he still managed to sit up straight.
The captain of the guards stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. "You. On your feet, the king would like an audience."
Sion sighed and stood up; he did not resist since he knew there was no point and he was curious as to what the king wanted. He straightened up, trying his best not to wince at the amount of pain coursing through his body at the time.
Some of the guards approached him hesitantly, half expecting him to burst into flames or something, though he did no such thing and just looked at them as they grabbed his arms.
"The king has summoned you to the throne room," The captain said to him and Sion nodded.
They began walking through the halls, leading out of the dungeon; the atmosphere grew warmer as they went by and his eyes darted around, as if to memorize his surroundings.
Some of the guards looked at him curiously, as did the servants within the palace that they passed by, while others looked at him with caution, which was completely understandable.
When they reached the throne room, the large door was already half open and Sion looked up, his eyes narrowed, as he wondered what awaited him.
They stepped inside without hesitation. There were nobles who bickered among themselves, voices sharp and overlapping one another. Advisors shouted, while others groaned in annoyance, simply uninterested in the entire ordeal. Mages stood in tight formation, and soldiers lined the walls like statues, too tense, too silent.
The king sat at the top of the steps, his chin resting on a clenched fist, his expression carved from stone. Just like when Sion first saw him upon arriving here, hardly anything had changed. His golden eyes locked onto Sion the moment he entered and a small smirk tugged at his lips.
"Bring him forward," the king ordered.
Silence fell over the entire throne room in an instant; everyone who was bickering went quiet, some of their faces paled, and it was clear as day they all feared him. Given his presence, Sion could see why without having to guess much.
Sion stepped forward and away from the guards, his shoulders straight and rigid despite the pain in his body. He met the king's gaze head-on. He could feel the gazes around him, some with disgust, some with caution. They were weighing him, judging him and some... even fearing him.
The king's eyes scanned him from head to toe as the guards explained to him what they found when they went down to the cell to get him and as they spoke, the king's expression became more frigid, if that was even possible and Sion's brows furrowed, wondering what was going through his mind.
"Quite the uproar you caused yesterday," the king said, slowly. "You were either summoned by fate or mistake. You escaped from my grasp, stirred unrest in my palace...and then survived an attempt on your life in one of my cells."
The king leaned forward, his gaze intense, while his voice was low and deliberate. "Tell me, do you know who you are?"
Sion's jaw clenched at his words. "I could ask you that, Your Majesty."
Murmurs ripped through the throne room at his backtalk and the king's eyes narrowed, then a deep chuckle echoed throughout the room, not one of amusement, no...anyone with a brain not clouded by fear could see that.
"You're either brave or stupid."
"I'm alive," Sion retorted.
"For now," the king quipped.
He stood and descended the steps, coming to a halt only a few feet away from Sion.
"There are things in motion far greater than you understand. This world... this kingdom... is not as stable as it looks. And you, whether you like it or not, are now part of that equation."
He circled slowly, as if assessing a weapon he wasn't sure was safe to use, and Sion's gaze followed him, ready to play the role he needed to survive... for the time being, at least.