Aneira was unsure of how long she spent in the cell. It was difficult for her to tell the time, what with the lack of windows or anything else that would reveal the time of day; while the schedule by which she was given meals should have allowed her to figure it out, it seemed as if the guards came to give her food at varying times. At times she would be absolutely starving when they arrived with her rations, and other times it seemed as if the last meal had barely settled in her stomach when she heard the sound of their footsteps approaching. The meals were so meager that Aneira began to realize that she could see her ribs when she took off her shirt to bathe in the metal tub she was given every once in a while.

After about a week of this torturous stay, or so she assumed, Aneira was summoned to the throne room once more. She offered her escorts as piercing of a glare as she could manage as they grabbed her chains with more force than she thought necessary and tugged her out of the cell. She didn't bother to fight their hold on her; the guards' biceps bulged under their sleeves, and their grip on her was like iron.

Aneira forced herself to raise her head as the grand wooden doors were pulled open before them and she was led into the throne room. It wasn't as dark as the first time she had entered the space, almost as if Kemble had learned from his mistakes and had finally decided to keep the lanterns lit. The room looked almost welcoming with the lanterns flickering brightly on the walls, but Aneira tried not to let herself get too comfortable. Just because he's decided to make the room look nicer doesn't mean that this is a friendly space, she reminded herself. If anything, he's trying to get me to let down my guard so that he'll have an easier time manipulating me. She glanced cautiously up towards the throne. Kemble wasn't sitting upon it. Instead, he was standing just in front of it. Devyn stood at his side, a proud smirk upon her lips and her chin lifted upwards. Everything about her spoke of privilege and nobility. I know better than that, Aneira almost thought. She's not really as content as she's making it seem. But Devyn didn't quite look in her direction, and so Aneira didn't get the chance to pass her the silent message.

"Captain Aneira," Kemble greeted. If Aneira hadn't known any better, she would have thought that he sounded almost friendly. In fact, the smile upon his lips looked almost polite. She narrowed her eyes, made suspicious by his sudden change in demeanor. The man held her gaze as she looked up at him. "Welcome back. How are you feeling? I hope your time here has been nothing but pleasant."

There was mischief in his eyes; Aneira could tell that much. What do you have planned, chancellor? She forced a smile onto her own face and continued to rest her stare upon him. His eyes were dark, even darker than Devyn's. Kemble's eyes were black as ink, practically the same color as the raven perched upon his shoulder. "I've been fine," Aneira replied in a sickeningly sweet voice. "How about yourself, your majesty?"

Kemble drummed his fingers casually across the top of his staff. The bottom of it was pointy, she realized with a start. Sharp enough to impale something if used for that purpose. She let out a breath, willing herself to remain calm. He wouldn't bring me here just to kill me. He'd probably have a very public execution, something that would strike fear into all of his enemies. She rolled her shoulders, forced her head up again.

"I've been alright as well, captain. Have the dungeon guards been treating you well?" The man asked. Aneira's eyebrows furrowed slightly. It was strangely off-putting for the chancellor to be acting like this. It made no sense as to why he would be so interested in hearing about how she was doing, and that she would keep this pointless conversation going on for so long.

"Can we skip to... whatever it is you brought me here for?" Aneira finally snapped. Kemble's eyes flashed at her suddenly sharp tone, but she refused to back down as he fixed his gaze upon her in a challenging stare. She caught a glimpse of Devyn from the side of her eye; the young woman wasn't looking directly at Aneira, but she was still watching the conversation with interest. "I know you didn't summon me here just to share pleasantries."

The man shrugged slightly, bringing up a hand to stroke the raven's feathers. He caught Aneira staring and quirked a sideways smile again. "His name is Chysgod," he deadpanned. "He's a shadow raven. Perhaps you've heard of them."

Aneira fell silent for a moment. The name was familiar... Where have I heard of that before? She nearly jumped as she remembered.

Shadow ravens were characters in all of the stories she had heard about the god of darkness, Nyswell, and the goddess of all things bright, Sera. In one story from Ledian mythology, Sera had been trapped in the world of shadows, held captive by Nyswell, who had been a past lover, because he wanted her all for himself and couldn't stand to lose her again. According to the stories, the world had gone without light for several days while she was imprisoned, and nocturnal creatures had roamed as if it was the middle of the night. During her imprisonment, Sera had encountered a beast similar to the shadow ravens of modern day, Nyswell's very own pet, and the god had asked her all sorts of questions; the raven-like creature had supposedly acted as a lie detector and had informed his owner of all of her untruthful statements. Finally, Sera had managed to trick the beast by only telling half-truths, and Nyswell was so giddy because of his supposed success that he was too distracted to catch Sera as she escaped his world of shadows.

Aneira brought her attention back to the present, eyeing the chancellor's raven with a newfound suspicion. If the stories are true, and the modern day shadow ravens inherited the same skills of Nyswell's creature, then those birds are great judges of character. Kemble could easily use his raven as a weapon against me, to interrogate me and make me reveal all sorts of things. She shuddered slightly at the thought; there seemed to be no way to avoid the bird, unless she could somehow survive by only telling part of the truth, like Sera had. The idea seemed more than impossible, considering Aneira's difficulty when it came to trying to lie.

"So," Aneira called out, shaking herself out of her grim thoughts. They would serve her no good. "What do you plan to do? I already told you that I'm not going to tell you anything. No matter what you do to me, I will reveal nothing." She spat the last word so sharply that she thought she caught Devyn flinching out of the corner of her eye.

Kemble brought a single pale finger to trace the crown of Chysgod's black feathered head. The bird made a strange ruck ruck sound, clearly pleased by the affection. "I know. But you are still my prisoner," the man spoke at last, his dark eyes flicking up to meet Aneira's. "So you are still of use to me yet. I'll just have to find another way, won't I?" The nonchalance of his tone was almost as unnerving as his anger. She watched as the man snapped his fingers, stepping slightly to the side. Devyn stepped into the center to take his place, her gaze finally lying evenly on Aneira.

"Here's the plan," Devyn intoned. She tilted her head a little to the side, looking like a curious dog and a sly fox all at the same time. A hint of a smirk split her face. "There's a weapon on Mount Nyswell: a pendant that contains a fragment of Cigis's skull." Aneira opened her mouth to interrupt, and Devyn took it to mean that she didn't recognize the name. "Cigis was Nyswell's shadow beast. That's why shadow ravens are more formally known as Cigian ravens." She rolled her eyes — as if Aneira was the dumbest person on the planet — and continued. "Anyway. There's a monument on top of the mountain that houses the pendant. That pendant has the magic to stop this war once and for all. We'd have unbridled power at our disposal... Which is why you are to be sent to Mount Nyswell to fetch it."

Aneira was sure her jaw dropped all the way to the floor; her eyes were definitely the size of the smoky crystal balls that Carys had once fooled around with when they were younger, when she had pretended she could see the future. You never would have predicted this, Carys, Aneira couldn't help but think to herself, finding the idea almost amusing. This is so far from what we thought this world would come to.

"You must be kidding me," the blonde murmured at last, dropping her gaze for a moment to study the floor. "First of all, I am most definitely not going to betray Ledah just because you're hungry for power. And second, no one goes to that mountain and survives. I'm not going."

Mount Nyswell, according to mythology that both kingdoms shared, was the home of the shadow god, who had lived in a deep ravine near the top of the mountain. While no activity had been reported there in hundreds of years, there were still rumors of black magic that surrounded the peak and countless night terrors that could rip a person's head off their shoulders in one easy swipe.

Devyn remained smirking smugly, shifting her weight onto one hip and crossing her arms. "Well, unfortunately for you, you don't really have a choice. There will be a guard sent to accompany you to ensure that—"

"Captain Devyn will be accompanying you herself," Kemble interrupted in a rumbling voice. "I find her a far more suitable escort than any of the Dregian guards. No offense warranted, of course." A couple of the guards standing at the door coughed, as if to hide a laugh or to bite back a nasty retort — Aneira couldn't tell which.

The shock on the captain's face was almost enough to make Aneira forget about the severity of the situation. The dark-haired girl's jaw worked, jutting up and down as she formed words but didn't speak them. Finally, she turned on the chancellor, a hint of panic in her tone. "Chancellor, please. I can ensure you that I am much more valuable remaining here. I don't understand why—"

"Captain Devyn, do you think that you have the power to demand things of me?"

The words rang out through the room, immediately silencing Devyn. Her face flushed red with embarrassment and rage. She lowered her gaze and offered the man a stiff bow. "No, my liege. My apologies." She remained bent over for a moment longer than necessary before collecting herself. Aneira watched as the captain shut her eyes for a brief second and sucked in a sharp breath. When her eyes were open again, she was all business, per usual.

"Guards, prepare the prisoner for the journey," Devyn commanded, her glare as sharp as ever. "We leave at dawn's first light."

Aneira only caught a quick glimpse of the young woman's expression, finding it impossible to read, as she was collected by her escorts and rushed out of the throne room.