Page 22 of The Book of Legends
“You were protecting them,” I argue, but it comes out more as a question.
“Yes. I’m originally from Elariya, and when we were attacked, I was captured and brought here.”
“Elariya is across the river,” I clarify, remembering what Eryndor told me.
“Yes. I hid in the woods, but they found me before I was able to cross the river to head north. Of course, the river was not the way it is now. It wasn’t cursed or the color of blood. It divides the two kingdoms, but they coexisted before the war. They were allied, ready to unite when the royal families married. But then, we were invaded by an outside force. We were invaded. It was carnage, and then, after it all happened, people naturally took sides. Everyone in Elariya conformed to the new king. Anything or anyone that wasn’t from Elariya was sent here. Others that were deemed traitors were banished, and Nithya became what is now called the Lost Kingdom. The dark prince was among the banished––”
I furrow my brow in confusion. “Who is this dark prince?”
His lips form into a frown. “You don’t know the history?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t,” I admit truthfully.
“It’s a long story,” he says, taking a seat.
I place my hands on my temples as my pulse roars in my ears, my heart hammering like a caged animal. The Book of Legends. The map. Now more than ever, I wish I had read it.
Whatever this place is, it’s real. I didn’t hit my head, and this isn’t a dream.
I take shallow breaths as I sit in the opposite corner, trying to make sense of it all as my denial evaporates into smoke.
My aunt knew, but she didn’t tell me this could happen. The question is, why?
She didn’t want me to read the book. Even if I wanted to find answers, the mirror and the book are inaccessible.
If I can get out of here, how would I survive? Where would I go? How do I get back? The only way to get some answers is from the man crouched on the floor two feet away from me.
“I have time to––”
A loud clang rips through the corridor. The cell shudders under a heavy thud on the stone floor like a horse’s hooves.
Fear wraps around me, squeezing tight. I barely turn before a shadow looms through the metal doors, cast by the fire from the sconces.
I push my large glasses up my nose, trying to focus on the large shadow. It’s not a man. It’s the face of a bull, breathing heavily with flaming eyes and curved horns. Large muscles bulge underneath black fur and gold-plated armor.
He opens the small opening on the metal door with a key, sliding two trays with what looks like barf and a small glass of water. Then he tosses a rag with a snort. “For the lady,” he grumbles, its yellow teeth glinting heavily.
The feral smell makes me flinch. “He stinks,” I mutter when he walks away. Its thick hooved feet clop hard against the stone, the sound echoing down the narrow corridor in an ominous beat.
The old man chuckles, but it sounds deep for an older man. “They all do, but don’t let him hear you say that.”
“But he does.”
“Minotaurs are immune to their own smell. He must think the same about you.”
I snort. “I can’t argue being in here. Right now, he’s probably right, but not as bad as him.”
The old man slides the tray toward me, then grabs the rag. Upon close inspection, I notice it is a clean cloth with water.
“You’re alright. It’s better than the way I smell.” He holds up the cloth and pours a bit of water on it. “Allow me.”
He moves closer. “Wait,” I blurt. He pauses, raising his eyebrows. “What’s your name?”
“The name is Lox.”
“Lox,” I repeat. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Lox. My name is Selene.”
“Selene,” he says like he’s testing it.
