They moved quickly through the castle, and Sapphire tried her best to track each turn they made. Large pieces of art adorned the walls, and the stone floors had given way to a shining marble. Everything was stark white, with greenery growing in terracotta pots that sat in the corners. Statues gleamed and vases shone in the late-afternoon sun that peeked through the large windows.

They took a left, moving into a dark stairwell, and the marble turned back to stone. With every step they took, the light faded until the world around her was entirely black. The warmth drained from the corridor, replaced by a bitter cold that caused her to shiver despite the heavy leather she wore.

There was a rancid smell accompanied by a stagnant heaviness that made her feel like she might choke. Finally, they entered a barren chamber with no natural light. There were no windows; flickering candles were the only source of illumination. Sapphire’s eyes struggled to adjust to the dimness as stone walls and wrought-iron bars closed in around her.

No.

‘You can’t just throw me into jail.’ Sapphire’s voice was too loud, echoing off the stone. ‘I want to go home. Please, I just want to return to Witrotean.’

One of the men grunted in response as he yanked her forward.

‘Please, at least tell me how long I will be here.’

There was no answer as they escorted her to the third cell, and the larger guard pulled open the door before his partner shoved her inside. The lock turned with a deafening clunk, and she shut her eyes tightly, unable to bear watching them walk away. She followed the sound of their footsteps until they faded entirely.

Sapphire couldn’t remember the last time she had been truly on her own. Always in the company of others at the Home – even in the woodlands – she was never truly by herself.

But she was here. Entirely alone.

Panic swallowed her whole as she stumbled backwards until she rested against the filth-covered wall of her cell.

Alone.

Alone in a world she didn’t know. A world where she clearly didn’t belong.

Sapphire clawed desperately at the tight collar of her borrowed tunic, ripping at the buttons in an attempt to find some relief. Still, panic built so rapidly she couldn’t escape it. It twisted its way through her entire being as she leaned her forehead against the cold stone. Eventually, she turned to prayers, begging the Saints to hear her, but they didn’t answer her pleas, and she slid down the wall as sobs racked her entire body until she felt empty.

There was nothing but darkness, a large puddle of standing water in the corner, and a small bench to her right.