When Era came to, Gabriel was still awake, bored out of his skull. When he saw Era’s eyes catch his, he flashed him an exhausted grin. “Damn, Era, you attract trouble like flies to honey.”
“Gabriel, this—”
“‘Is all my fault,’ right?” he finished with a chuckle. “Kid, don’t worry about it. Getting to sock the Archmage in the face was worth a little jail time.”
“Why? Do you hold something against him?”
“What? Nah, he’s just an asshole. Nothing to do with the Academy or anything, I promise you.” He shrugged. “Trust me, I was over that years and years ago. Even if I was bitter, it’s not like he personally threw me out or anything.”
“I see.” Era pushed himself up, resting his chin on his knees. “How long are we going to be here, though? Do we get a trial, or… what?”
“You got me,” he replied. “I don’t know the politics side of stuff, and I’ve never been in this much trouble with the law before.”
“Wait… ‘this much?’”
“Nothing beyond disturbing the peace,” he joked, getting a chuckle out of Era. “But yeah, I don’t know how long we’ll be here, or if we’ll get a trial eventually.” His tone hushed and his expression turned serious. “Do you want to try to break out or something?”
“N-No!!” Era replied quickly, his voice a tad too loud for his liking. “We’ll only get in more trouble that way, we can’t!”
“Just asking,” Gabriel assured him. “I’m not going to try anything unless you’re up for it.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Alright then.”
They sat in silence a while. Gabriel shut his eyes, trying and failing to get comfortable on the cold floor of the cell. Era, meanwhile, fiddled with his shackles, pulling his sleeves through them to save his wrists some discomfort. The shackles were hooked to the wall behind him with a long chain. Long enough to reach the door, he noted. Era began scooting closer to the bars, getting a curious look from Gabriel.
Looking to the side of their cell, Era saw a young man sitting on a bench wearing mage robes accompanied by a couple other mages. He recognized him immediately.
“You were our page, weren’t you?” he asked quietly.
The boy jumped at the sudden break in the silence, quickly whipping his head around to Era. “Yeah,” he muttered, “I was.”
“You knew what he was going to do there, didn’t you?”
“I had to do as he ordered,” Dashito replied quietly, avoiding Era’s gaze.
They both were silent a while, Era studying him out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not... well, mad or anything at you, you know,” Era eventually said quietly.
Dashito blinked in confusion. “Really?”
“No,” he said. “You were just following orders, after all. It’s not you who holds any malice towards me, right?”
“Right.” He eyed Era with suspicion.
“That’s good to know, then,” Era said, smiling.
Dashito half-smiled back nervously, still avoiding Era’s eyes.
“Am I… making you uncomfortable?” Era asked with genuine concern.
“It’s just… your eyes,” he muttered. “They’re… unusual.”
“I think something’s wrong with them,” Era replied quietly, “but I don’t know what.”
“Well, eyes are the windows to the soul,” Dashito said. “So what happened to your soul?”
Stunned, it took a moment for Era to find his voice. “I wish I knew,” he said quietly, “I really wish I knew.”
The next few days were a blur to the pair; they were each fed two meals a day, and these mealtimes served as the only way for them to keep track of the passage of time. Their guards were always mages, and only occasionally was it Dashito who kept an eye on them. They passed the time by making light conversation, playing games using boards drawn in the dirt with their fingertips, and sleeping, but they always, always had far too much of it on their hands.
On the third day (or so he believed; it was hard to be sure), right before Era was about to doze off into yet another nap, the loud slam of a door up the hall jarred him awake. With it came an outraged voice that he instantly recognized.
“Crisilla!” he whispered excitedly, his spirits lifted for the first time since entering the dungeon.
“Mmph, what?” Gabriel muttered, snapping out of sleep.
“…can’t believe this! He wouldn’t do anything like that, not without good reason!” came Crisilla’s voice from just up the hall.
“Hey, it is her!” Gabriel said with a sleepy grin on his face.
Crisilla came marching around the corner, a guard trailing closely behind her like a kicked dog. “We do appreciate your monetary donation, madam, truly we do, but I do assure you that they are guilty as charged—”
“You are dismissed, good sir!” Crisilla commanded, stamping her foot for emphasis.
“Right away, ma’am,” he said sheepishly, quickly backing away.
Looking down into the cell, Crisilla beamed. “There you two are!” she said excitedly, unlocking the door with a thick iron key. “Do you have any idea how hard you two were to track down?”
“Some,” Era joked. “I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I am to see you!”
“Same here,” Crisilla said, bouncing lightly in place. “I was afraid you’d already been sentenced to death or something! What got into you, punching out the Archmage!?”
“My fault,” Gabriel said, raising a hand. “But like you said, he really fucking deserved it.”
“Watch your tongue,” Crisilla scolded, “you’re talking to a lady, after all!”
“Do forgive me, madam,” Gabriel mocked lightly, “shall I lick your boots to make you feel better?”
“Ah, a splendid idea!” she said, jesting right back. “I did just step in horse dung, so they could use a good cleansing.”
Gabriel chuckled, then got right back to business. “So, you going to let us out of here, or what?”
“Oh yeah,” she said, opening the door. With another key on the same ring, she unlocked the shackles on each of them and tucked the keys away in a pocket on her dress. Era and Gabriel shakily got to their feet.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
“Kid, you have no idea.”
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