As always there was a knock as if her permission to enter would matter in the slightest. To be honest it was more a taunt than considerate. At least it got her a few seconds to arrange herself in a manner that would not immediately cry out escapology. Sirona Boyd could feel that her efforts were starting to give results. Without any real access to weights she had to be content with just using her own body as weight, but with increased repetitions and decreased resting times she had greatly improved the times she could perform the same exercises before failure.
“Yes,” she said, holding “Spell in the Air”; one of her few books that wasn't meant to teach her anything. She had read it a fair amount of times. It’s main character, a girl named Celeste, was trying to keep up with her schoolwork while adjusting to her newly discovered responsibilities as Queen of the Fairies. It contained its fair amount of sword fights and romance, but even though she’d loved this book as a nice get away at times the irony wasn't lost on her that Summer hardly went anywhere. The door opened to reveal Mikhail, one of the human guards that usually worked the upper floors of the mansions, as far as she knew.
“Godday Sirona, The master requires you down stairs. Please follow me.”
“Why, what does he want?” Sirona asked disapprovingly and put the book down on the table.
“You know what he wants,” Mikhail replied, waiting patiently in the doorway.
“It’s… It’s not L again is it? Sirona said getting to her feet. Last time she had been called down to the dungeon Conrad had severely beaten the dragon humanoid for not responding quickly enough to his string of orders.
“The Master is waiting,” Mikhail repeated, still not entering the room. Sirona sighed and let him escort her down the stairs.
Entering the part of the basement containing amongst others Labrat’s holding cell they did not turn down that corridor. Instead she was led straight into the chamber where Confessor Ilgron got most of his Confessions done. There was a groan of pain coming from further inside. The smell of blood made her mouth go dry and she stopped. She wanted to glare at Ilgron with loathing and defiance but the sight of him in this horrid room and context made her just stare at the ground by his feet. It was still an angry gaze, only losing some of its vigor by her having to concentrate to not start crying.
“Ah, welcome,” Confessor Ilgron said in an almost expressionless voice. “I am pleased to see that you had the time to step by.” He gestured a pale hand towards the wooden bench behind him. “Our guest seems to be ready for a round two.” He reached out his other arm towards her as if scooping her shoulders up from the back, although he was standing too far away to actually touch her Sirona still felt her legs move forward almost on their own. Just as she expected Ilgron placed a hand on her far off shoulder, pushing her up with his arm towards the prisoner. “Allow me to introduce our medical advisor, Sirona. She will have you feeling better in no time. Then perhaps you will be more… cooperative?”
Sirona had never seen a Drow before. The young man's skin was dark grey, almost black and his hair white as snow, except for the parts that had been stained by blood and dirt. He had a gaping wound into his abdomen and Sirona had the sinking feeling that something had been removed from within. The dark elves' eyes were open but he seemed in too much pain to focus them and more than once they appeared on the verge to roll back into unconsciousness. Her hands were shaking as she reached out to place them over the gaping wound. She saw no anesthetics nearby. Clenching her teeth together she closed her eyes, releasing a single tear that she'd been fighting to hold back. It fell down her cheek, dripping off her chin. She ignored it for the time being as she reached within for the blessing of Morena. Warm light burst from her fingers and quickly spread over to the large wound, liking it like transferring flames. It created almost a weave of glowing strands leaving fresh new skin tissue behind over the hole. As she finished she quickly wiped the tear from her face. The young man's eyes came back into focus and as they suddenly seemed to see her for the first time there was a quick struggle against the restraints holding him down.
“What did you do?” He asked with fear and anger in his voice as he looked down at his bare midriff. “What have you done to me?”
“I believe your work here is done,” Ilgron said, almost causing her to jump.
“You’re a monster. Let me go. You have no idea the people I know. They will come for me and destroy you all.” The man spat, the gob not hitting any of them, but he got his point across.
“Oh, but do tell me about these friends of yours,” Ilgron said casually holding a red hot iron rod. The man quieted down but kept staring dagger at him. Sirona envied the hatred he could convey at The Confessor.
“There was nothing but dead spiders in your whoring father's seed,” the dark elf snarled, fighting against the binds once more. “Spoon eared, pink skins!”
“Such foul mouth in the presence of a lady,” Ilgron said, pressing the hot metal down on the prisoner's flesh. The smell and scream almost made Sirona vomit. Smoke started closing up their immediate surroundings, but Ilgron didn't remove the tool until the drow stopped screaming. “My apologies,” he said and turned away to dispose of the rod. Sirona stared at the drow. He was unconscious, luckily. She held out her hand over the burn at his side, but just as the faintest light started to show Ilgron spoke again. “No, I don't think so. He needs some time to think over his... choices. Leave him like that. I will continue to question him in the morning.” Sirona remained immobile for a moment but did not summon any healing to her hand. Instead her eyes feel on the fastening restricting the man's right wrist.
“Yes,“ she quietly said, retracting her hand at the same time as she cautiously and slowly picked up one of the gruesome looking cut and carving tools from the table next to her. She glanced over at Ilgron but The Confessor seemed for the time being distracted by his own work. She didn't have the time to cut through the bindings but at least she managed to quickly make a tear in the leather. If the drow woke up during the night perhaps this would be enough for him to pull loose. She wasn't sure how he’d get past the guards should he succeed, but she couldn't just leave him here doing nothing. Putting back the blade she turned towards Ilgron who just then looked up from his book.
“Didn't I tell you the creatures I bring down here aren't innocent. Those underscums and dirty ash faced, spider kissers are a threat to all civilized existence. If his kind invaded and took you down below with them you would think that the tools you see here were children's toys.” He walked around the table and lay a heavy hand on her shoulder. “But don't worry. I will always be here to protect you.”