I Wasn't Dreaming of This, Exactly!

The prison was incredibly tall—it had to be to accommodate the giants—but aside from that its construction was fairly plain, and I found myself disappointed, though in fairness it was a prison, not a citadel. Even so, the place was not without its novelties. To begin with, it was my first time in a prison, as they had become extremely scarce in my world. There were so many cells, and it was surprisingly quiet. I found it eerie and bizarre—it was a place of residence, but it was not a home.

The cells and various sections of the prison were closed in by solid walls that slid open at the behest of our captor. At first, I thought this was magic, but the strange man had seemed unacquainted with the art, and Marigold seemed confounded by the way the walls moved as well, so I came to the conclusion that the people of this world must have had some other system or technology that dominated their society. Perhaps it utilized the same energy that powered Alithet: something like magic, but not, as Marigold had said—fascinating!

Most of the cells had a small barred window, and I would occasionally peer in to sneak a glance at the inmates. All I could see were silhouettes. Like the man who led us through the prison, the silhouettes were humanlike, but not quite human. Some seemed to have feathers or horns, others had additional arms or legs, and a few were contorted such that I couldn't tell what part of the body was where.

There were no windows to the outside at eye level, though there were some higher up, and I would have been able to see out if I had been in Alithet, but alas. I thought about what the outside might be like, but I quickly became afraid that it would be quite underwhelming. For so many years I had imagined a world so much grander than my own: a world whose geometry was beyond understanding and whose culture was one of adventure and endless discovery; a heavenly place that would lay bare the reasons for the mundanity of my world and free me from ennui forever! But, there I was, and I was in a prison. This was not beyond understanding! This was not adventure! And it damn sure wouldn't rid anyone of their ennui! Marigold and I would have to worm our way out somehow.

"Halt!" said the man, stopping abruptly and facing us with a stern expression. He gestured to the cell to our left. "This will be your cage." The wall—or, I suppose it was a door, really—slid to the side, and we were shoved in. The man began removing our restraints.

"May I ask one question?" I said.

"You may ask, but I might not answer," replied the man.

"What do you plan to do with us?" I hoped to gain some insight into the reason for our imprisonment, and I thought that knowing our captor's intent might let us deceive him by playing to his expectations. Of course, I was also nervous and wanted to prepare myself for whatever fate awaited me.

"That depends," said the man. "If I had my way, I'd grind you to dust and use your blood for war paint."

 I shivered. "It depends? Depends on what?" I said, wringing my hands.

"There will be a hearing, most likely, to determine where your allegiance truly lies. I am not convinced of your impartiality, but then again, betrayal begets betrayal..."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Marigold muttered. The man glared at her, huffed, and strode away without another word, and the cell door slammed shut behind him, leaving us alone in yet another dim, cramped room.

"What an ass," I sighed, reclining against the wall. The cell was very small, very gray, and it was, to say the least, rather poorly furnished. There was what one might loosely call a bunk bed, though really it was just two slabs of concrete jutting out of the wall, and in the corner was a sink and an uncomfortable-looking metal toilet that I hoped to avoid having to use until we could get out.

I heard a sniffle and looked over at Marigold. She was crying, biting her lip to stay quiet. I wondered if I should say anything. After all, it was my fault we were in this mess. Perhaps talking would only make things worse. But, it felt wrong to just let her cry.

"Marigold... I'm sorry."

She spoke hesitantly. "No, you aren't." She didn't sound angry, but somehow I wished that she did.

"I am—"

"You're happy. I get it. This is what you've been dreaming of your whole life."

"Well, I wasn't dreaming of this, exactly," I said, waving my hand around the room, and I thought I detected the slightest hint of bemusement on Marigold's lips. "But, you aren't wrong. I am excited. I've finally broken through—and even though we're locked up here for now, I... I should thank you, Marigold. If not for your assistance, we would still be floundering about in that quaint old village of mine."

Marigold pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms. "It is my fault, isn't it? Because I hit that stupid rock..." Ah, so I shouldn't have said that. I never was any good at this sort of thing.

"That's not—I mean—What I'm trying to say here is, I'm happy, yes, but I'm sorry, too."

"...You're contradicting yourself."

"No, I'm happy for one reason and sorry for another! These things aren't mutually exclusive, you know! I'm trying to cheer you up, dammit!"

Marigold lifted her head slightly and glanced at me. She smirked ever so softly, shook her head, sniffed, and wiped the tears from her eyes. "At least you're trying," she said, and I grinned back.

"So," I said, "how are we going to get out of this place?"

"There's that... hearing," said Marigold.

"Yes. We don't know how soon that'll be, but I imagine we could convince our captors of our innocence."

"What are we even being tried for?"

"I guess it has something to do with Alithet, or, more likely, with Ariel. They really seem to despise him."

Marigold rubbed her cheek in thought. "You said Ariel was that voice—the one that told you to fight? But... where did he go?"

"I don't know," I said. "He wasn't in the chamber with me to begin with. By the way the others talked, though, he must be somewhere inside Alithet, resting. In any case, it seems our jailer thinks we're working for him, or something, despite being told otherwise."

"But, we don't even really know him. We didn't do anything wrong," Marigold said in an obvious attempt at self-validation.

"Yes," I said. "Well, we did fight that Estille character, though. But, it was self-defense, I tell you. Self-defense!"

"That's the four-armed one? It's odd—it was so aggressive, but once you surrendered it seemed much less keen on destroying us. I wonder why they were so quick to trust you. I mean, you don't exactly come off as a reputable guy."

"Silence. Perhaps my mannerisms are simply more accepted in this world's culture."

"They do speak with a similar grandeur." She said that somewhat sarcastically, but I took it as a compliment.

"Hm. You are right, though; there must be more to it," I said. "Maybe... no, I think it's quite simple. You saw their power; it was insurmountable. We are just too weak to cause them any concern."

"They did leave me my staff and all."

"Indeed."

Many moments passed in silence before Marigold, with some trepidation, looked up at the ceiling and asked, "Are they... gods?" The way she said it was sort of funny; she was clearly being completely serious, but it sounded almost like an amateur thespian reading a line from a two-bit play—I wondered if perhaps she had never said that word, 'god,' before, or if she might not have fully understood its meaning. Such concepts had long been seen as obsolete, so it wouldn't have surprised me.

"I believe so," I said. "Estille said... they said that Ariel created our world. If that is true, then our first contact with the numinous was with the very being that gave us life! I..." That realization finally began to sink in. I had met a god—my God! And yet, I had betrayed his will. I had handed him over to the enemy, and said that I had no allegiance to him. I felt uneasy about it, but I couldn't be sure if what I had done was truly right or wrong.

"I don't like that," said Marigold.

"What do you mean?"

"It makes me feel small."

I still wasn't quite sure what she meant. "You are small," I said.

Marigold scowled at me and punched me in the arm. "Whatever."