ARWIN
Giant spiders pinned Arwin and Yaz in sitting positions up against the walls of separate dungeon cells. Then the arachnids webbed the prisoners’ wrists to the cold, dark stone of the dank walls while a small host of black gremlins gleefully danced around. The devilish little monsters cackled and poked and sniffed, eager to taste the prisoners.
Arwin vainly tried to escape their interest, but it was of no use. The gremlins crawled right up onto him where he sat, invading every nook and cranny with their taloned hands as they inspected, licking his face with long black tongues and giving each other approving grunts in gremlin speech. Apparently, he was, if not delicious, then at least tasty. To his great relief, he obviously hadn't been named as dinner quite yet because the giant arachnid guards eventually ushered the gremlins out.
The heavy wooden door slammed shut with a resounding thud, leaving the tiny prison cell in total darkness.
Arwin couldn't see any details around himself. He couldn’t even make out his own legs stretched out in front of him. The sheer absence of visual input would have been overwhelming if he’d never been caving and been in similar situations a few times before. As it was, his plight was still very unsettling. What else lurked within the cell that he couldn’t see? Rats with big, sharp teeth that could chomp pieces out of his legs and body? Poisonous centipedes? Disgusting cockroaches? Spiders? Well, of course, there were spiders! He shuddered.
His skin crawled as his traitorous imagination pictured the creepy crawlies casually making their way over every inch of him and being powerless to do anything about it. Idiot imagination. Why did it have to come up with the worst possible scenarios in a time like this? Why couldn’t he be picturing a cozy fire and freshly baked bread? Why was he imagining more spiders? Stupid imagination was just making things worse!
Cold stone pressed up against his legs and back, and he knew it would eventually chill him. He tried calling out to his friend, "Yaz? Yaz!"
There was no answer.
Growing worried, he tried again. "Dude! You there?"
"Yeah,” came a despondent reply.
"We've got to find a way out of here."
"Sure,” Yaz replied, bitterly sarcastic. “Just close your eyes and wish upon a star. If your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme. We'll be magically transported to some faraway land, and all our problems will be gone." The skeleton sighed. “I’m sorry. I never should have let you get dragged into this.”
Yaz's despondency paused Arwin for a moment. Things didn’t look good, but Arwin refused to succumb to the same sense of despair that Yaz was apparently falling to. He guessed that it wasn’t just their perilous situation that bothered the skeleton, though. The Enchantress had hit Yaz where he already hurt. She’d called Yaz a failure and pointed out aloud that even if he made his dream come true and found Epheria, it was likely no living person would remain in love with a skeleton. Arwin suspected that Yaz had already felt this way for a very long time. Although Yaz had seemed cheerful enough so far, Arwin figured that, underneath a thin surface layer of congeniality, the man might be depressed and struggling to hold onto the hope of ever finding his lost love.
Arwin put fire into his voice. "Yaz, forget what she said. She was just trying to get under your skin. You can't let it get to you. Heck, you don’t even have skin to get under."
"Why? It's all true, isn't it? I'm a joke. All this time, wandering all over the place, never finding her. Not even a hint. I failed Epheria."
"Don't say that!"
Yaz distantly muttered, "It's been so long. I can't even remember her face. Her face!" he cried with anguish. “She’s gone. Forever. And there’s nothing I can do about that now.”
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“She’s not gone. You remember her name. And your lives together. Your feelings and what you meant to each other."
"Do I?" It sounded like Yaz was forlornly shaking his head on the other side of the stone wall. The skeleton’s voice croaked with the strength of his bitterness. "Within a couple of years buried in the ground, I had completely forgotten her face, her voice, and so many other details. Within a few more years, her birthday, and yet more details. It's been over a thousand years! What if everything I still remember is made up? What if what I remember is just a woman my mind constructed over the centuries, made up of what I want her to be, not who she really is? And what of me? What kind of man am I if I’ve had all the time in the world to rescue her and only failed? And she’s right: I’m no longer someone she could love."
"So you're just giving up, is that it?”
“It’s what I should have done. A long time ago.”
“Well, crazy old skeleton, I've got a bone to pick with you."
"Arwin. Don't..."
"I get it. After all this time, you're down to the bare bones of hope, and it's crumbling to dust right before your eyes. You think we're locked up, and this will be the end of us. Well, frankly, I think you're being a bonehead. I think under this temporary feeling sorry for yourself bit, there's a lot of backbone still in you; you've just got to remember that. So stop being a lazybones and help me figure a way out of this mess so that we can get back to finding your princess."
There was no response.
“You’re no failure, Yaz! You may not have found her yet, but you’ve spent twelve hundred years searching. No one else would have done the same. You should be proud of yourself for holding on to love and hope for so long. No other being has ever been more loyal, I’m sure of it!”
But still, the skeleton stayed silent.
Arwin sagged back against the wall. He wouldn't give up on his new friend. He'd try again in a while, but maybe right now, Yaz just needed some time to work through his depression. You can't demand strength from someone; they have to choose it within themselves. Alone within our hearts, we have to choose to be strong in our darkest moments and choose to reach for a helping hand if one is offered. Arwin just hoped that Yaz would pull himself out of his sad state quickly because who knew how much time they had. They needed to figure out an escape plan before they became gremlin lunch.
Hmm. Time. Could he still buy more of it? He reviewed his conversation with the Enchantress in his mind. Unfortunately, the entire experience had been such an overwhelmingly frightening, mind-blowing assault on his senses that most of it was a blur. She'd been interested in him, though. Could he still use that? Lull her into a sense of confidence? Buy Yaz's freedom? Maybe find a way to escape when she began to trust him? Or maybe bargain straight-up for his release? Or was she too angry and intent on his death now?
She was a dark goddess in her own evil fashion. Had she been a regular woman, even in his lingering heartbreak, he’d definitely been interested. There was something about her, something more than her beauty, that had caught his interest. But the cruelty, the captivity, the spiders. He shuddered again. He hated spiders. Those huge ones like Drath-whatever-his-name-was were beyond his most appalling dreams. Without spiders and murderous instinct, he might be attracted to her. But the Dark Enchantress wasn't just any woman; she was evidently a deadly, violent witch who enjoyed causing pain. Being with her would be like walking through a nest of irritable vipers and trusting them not to bite you.
After what Kelli had done to him, he sure didn’t feel like trusting any woman with his real heart any time soon. But could he trick her? Could he overcome his emotional trauma enough to make her think he liked her until he found a way to escape?
He could just sit here and hope things worked out on their own, but he knew that this would, in reality, be giving up, absolving himself of responsibility for his own future by telling himself that he was helpless. We’re rarely completely helpless. He had to take the offensive somehow, take his future into his own hands, or he’d be lost.
Arwin reached out with his feet. His hands were locked up, but his feet could touch most of the worn flagstones in the small cell if he slid his hips forward. He lashed out, testing the walls. They were solid. His foot clipped the door.
Instantly, the window in the top of the door glowed, providing faint illumination in the cell. The menacing eyes and mouth of a giant spider burst into view in the door’s barred window. A long, spindly leg with a vicious point arched through the window and clawed at him.
Arwin gasped and withdrew his legs.
The arachnid angrily chittered, a gut-churning sound. After a few moments, the creature slid away, and the room grew silent again.
Looking up, Arwin saw a thin rope of spider silk was just visible through the door’s window. Then the window’s glow faded, and the cell was completely dark again.
"Alarm line,” Arwin noted aloud. The slightest vibration on that door and his eight-legged guards would know. Cautiously, he stamped on the stone floor instead. This time, there was no reaction. Searching around, he banged on every surface he could reach with his feet. All the stones returned the same dull, impervious quality. Until the last one. On his right, up against the wall, the floor stone in the corner gave a slightly hollow tonk as it shifted. Arwin tried again, harder. The stone moved just a hair.