On the other side of my cage is a menacing-looking woman identifying herself as the prison warden.

  The cage itself is made out of iron; it is cramped, just enough to sit.

  I am inside a room with walls out of stone and furniture made out of a paler sort of wood.

  There is a desk to my left, but the woman asking me questions sat on a small wooden chair in front of my cage.

  I tried looking her in the eyes a few times, but her eyes were like those of a beast.

  Every time I try to catch a glimpse of her, my eyes almost immediately wander down again, as her sharp and tense gaze looks down on me.

  She kept asking me tons of questions, or rather, she demanded answers.

  Her expression was stiff and tense, and her tone was sharp and direct.

  So I talked and talked, hoping she and I would come to an understanding.

  I ended up repeating myself several times; she cut me off after a while.

  "Enough."

  "So help me out here, your name is Lutena, and you are travelling with your dad?"

  Her tone feels like a cold shiver running down my back; I take a second before answering her.

  "Yes."

  She leans down to me and brings her face closer, forcing my eyes to look even more downwards.

  "Both of you come from Lisladan, which, according to you, is south of Tulita."

  "That is correct."

  "Which one is the region and which is the province?"

  "Tulita is the province; it's located within the region of Lisladan."

  The woman leans back, stands up for a bit and moves her chair way closer.

  Leaning on top of the cage, from what I can see inside the cage, she must be leaning her face on a fist while her elbow touches the top of the cage.

  The metal at the top, where her elbow rests, dents slightly inwards.

  Her left hand tapping against the metal top, each tap sounds like a loud ting.

  While she also slowly dents in that area, she speaks up in a really annoyed tone.

  "Say, beastgirl, why do you keep saying that the Newman is your family?"

  She raises her voice even higher.

  "You even constantly messed up your own story."

  "Father here and brother there; at least try to stick with one."

  I try to say something but don't manage to muster up even a single word.

  A few moments pass, filled with the sound of her finger denting the cage slowly while tapping it from above.

  A man enters the room and reports to the woman in front of me.

  "Miss Mare, we prepared the Newman for interrogation; he should wake up soon."

  Mare leans back and crosses her legs, putting her hands on her knees.

  The lady leaned over to the table next to us, grabbing what appears to be a black cap.

  She puts it on and walks towards the man.

  "I'll go and interrogate the newman right away."

  The man points at my cage and asks her about me.

  "What about this one?"

  "Criminal, prepare her; I'll bring her into the special district later."

  My heart feels like it's sinking into a deep ocean once I hear those words.

  With a soft and coarse voice so silent I could be whispering to myself, I ask, 'What am I guilty of?'

  The scary lady turns around; her heel clicks.

  She walks up to me, squatting down while slamming her hands flat on the top of my cage; her hands dent it in quite a bit.

  Her face is pale with slightly sunken eyes; her eyes shimmer red like fresh blood.

  overgrown black hair and a grin befitting a devil, almost going from ear to ear.

  "Being alive."

  Mare left the room alongside the other person; a few minutes pass until two females with similar attire enter the room.

  The only difference in their uniform is the patches on their shoulders; one is red, the other is white.

  They carried along a big bag made out of thick brown cloth; it has several pouches on the side.

  It looks more like a proper travelling backpack; they put it on the ground next to me.

  The woman with the red patch has long blonde hair, just like me; she is telling the other one what to do.

  Not in a strict but rather monotonous tone, like a teacher to a student.

  "First the hands, then the legs and lastly the neck."

  The woman with the red patch shakes her head and rolls her eyes around while rummaging in the backpack.

  She got out two sets of cuffs and a collar, all made out of black metal.

  The instructor leaned down to me and told me to behave.

  Her hair goes down to her neck, flowing over it just a bit; leaning down like that, it hangs over her right shoulder.

  "Listen, the less trouble you make, the easier it is for us all."

  I don't care about that right now; there is something more important.

  Grabbing the bars on the cage and getting close to her face, I muster up all my courage but only manage to ask in a faint tone.

  "Is my dad alright?"

  The instructor lady blinks while her face tenses up; after a handful of seconds, she turns around to look at her partner.

  Her partner crudely shifts her eyes downwards towards me while not moving her head whatsoever, then back up again, towards the cage.

  The white-patch lady stands up while letting out a long sigh, tilting her head and rubbing her hand against her forehead.

  "Explains the cage."

  Keeping her hand on her forehead, she tells her student to deal with me instead.

  So the lady with blonde hair squats down and locks eyes with me.

  "Will you play along if we tell you?"

  Letting go of the bars, I clasp my hands and nod in agreement.

  Before she could say a word, her instructor loudly remarked to 'make it quick'.

  She closes her eyes and tenses up, letting out a deep breath before locking eyes with me again.

  "We patched up your travelling companion."

  "What about his blood?"

  The woman frowns her eyes.

  "What about it?"

  ...

  "Is it blue?"

  ...

  "No?"

  The lady behind the red patch speaks up in a scolding tone.

  "Stop asking about stuff; you got your answer."

  The red patch grabs both sets of cuffs, telling me to stretch out my limbs between the bars.

  There is no chain on the cuffs, only on the collar.

  The two pairs are made out of cuffs for the hands and legs, respectively; they are moulding them around my limbs.

  They looked really heavy and scary at first, but they are actually pretty light.

  Like black cloth directly on my skin.

  The women each walk to the ends of my cage, they audibly count to three and lift up the plate on top.

  Explains why this cage didn't have a lock; it didn't need one.

  They slowly lift it up while groaning, putting it on the table behind me.

  While they are catching their breath, I slowly get up.

  The white patch orders the red patch to get the collar on me.

  And I make a run for it.

  I am not so stupid as to let a chance like this go by.

  While these two were catching their breath, I was making a run for it.

  My shoulder hurts a bit from ramming the door open, but it's bearable; I need to find my dad before I should worry about myself.

  Running through this building, it's just stone, long hallways with empty cells and more stone.

  This really must be a prison, but it's kind of empty?

  There are no windows; the source of light is some lamps with a black stone in them.

  Across the flat walls are patched-up areas filled with stone chunks; their colours don't always match.

  While running through this maze of stone, I manage to come across a window.

  It's just some small rectangular holes across the wall.

  Catching my breath with shaky legs, I lean myself against the wall and look outside.

  ...

  I can see a courtyard below me with several people walking around; it's the middle of the day.

  It's hard to make out anything clear, as I am very high up.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Looking above the courtyard, directly out the window, all I can see is a mountain.

  This entire building – it's not a building at all.

  It's a prison carved inside a mountain with a flat middle area.

  From this position I can see black smoke coming out of two places on the right side.

  I have to squeeze my eyes a bit, but I manage to make out a window on the opposite side from mine.

  Behind me, the lady with the red patch appears at the end of the hallway.

  Leaning against the wall, catching her breath for just a moment, she starts screaming at the top of her lungs.

  "Escapee!"

  "Entry male wing!"

  Almost immediately, the footsteps of people storming towards our direction can be heard coming from behind her.

  Run, run, run!

  I have to find Theodor and get out of here.

  "Get her!"

  Kill her!

  "Catch her!"

  Kill her!

  Chased just like back then, their words are different, but they feel the same.

  Panic, fear, angst, pain.

  It pains, it hurts, it's about to beat, it's about to beat.

  Falling to the ground, stemming my body with the right shoulder and pressing against my right chest with my left hand.

  "Get away from me!"

  It beat; it beat just once, my blue-heart.

  Feels like I fell from a high place; all my muscles are sore, and my ears are ringing.

  My eyes are on fire, tearing up from the pain, while there is the taste of blood in my mouth.

  Just when my body calmed down a bit and my eyes caught focus again, someone stepped before me.

  Before I could react, I was getting lifted up.

  It's the prison warden; it's Mare.

  She lifts me up by my right horn with just one hand, her arm not even shaking whatsoever.

  With my horn in her hand, she starts walking, dragging me along the floor towards the other end of the hallway.

  I try to get out of her grip, but it does not budge at all.

  She stops just in the middle of the window I was passing, facing what I am assuming must be the girl with the red patch.

  She speaks up in an annoyed manner, speaking slowly and with a break between syllables.

  "Ex-plain"

  ***

  ***

  Just when I finished interrogating that newman, Theodor, a commotion started at the edge of the female wing.

  Making my way towards all that screaming, I find one of my female guardsmen out of breath and that beast scum on the floor shaking.

  I grab the girl by her horn and drag her along behind me, demanding an explanation from my red-patch underling.

  She stutters and stutters, not getting out a proper word, while behind her a handful of other prison workers all avert their eyes.

  "Speak up!"

  ...

  I can't believe it; now she's squatting and cowering. What a useless girl.

  "Miss Mare!"

  A white patch walks up and explains the situation to me instead, urging her co-worker to get back in the meantime.

  Lifting up the beastfolk girl in front of me again to get a proper look at her.

  Vol, how I hate these things; clothed and tended to, then runs away and puts on some fake tears.

  Now she squirms to get her horn free. I hate when these things touch me.

  Hmm?

  The cuffs are missing; her limbs are totally free, all of them.

  "Why does this one not have any cuffs?!"

  The brown-haired white patch speaks up and points behind me.

  "We did, we did; she just ran off with them."

  She continues speaking while I turn around to where she was pointing.

  "It was like she didn't even feel the weight."

  At the end of the hallway, right where I picked up this cowering mess, there are black shards.

  The cuffs are made out of crystallised coal; they must have broken off her limbs.

  I get what is going on here.

  "Bring me a collar that is not attuned yet."

  "Miss Mare, what about replacement for the arms and legs?"

  I turn around and ease up my shoulders; it's not their fault that this one is laughably pathetic.

  "Don't bother; they won't work on this one. We have to go ancient."

  The white patch frowns and clears her throat.

  "What do you mean?"

  "These cuffs get heavier the more mana they can drain, up to a certain threshold."

  "Meaning this weakling here is under the threshold to begin with."

  "Which is why she is so quick-footed."

  A few minutes pass before someone finally brings me a collar.

  This beastgirl is still trying to get out of my grip with all her might.

  I've never seen horns like that; she might be a stolen asset from a noble here in Lindisfarne.

  I lift her up, and two red patches put the collar on her.

  She manages to bite one of them, leaving their hand bleeding.

  How I'd love to just snap one of her horns right now, so she would finally stop squirming.

  Whatever, I grab the chain attached to the collar and drag her around.

  She tries to stem herself against my pull, but to no avail.

  Step by step I force her to move.

  Walking through the male wing is faster; I want to get this over with fast and grab a coffee.

  "Let me go!"

  "Lutena!"

  How lovely.

  The smuggler newman barking at me like a dog and his stolen mutt on a leash behind me.

  ***

  ***

  Theodor looked way better; the bandages around his chest also are clean.

  The red-patch lady was telling the truth; they looked after his injuries at least.

  He tried to use it again, but there was no proper spark to start it.

  Even so, he smashed the giant block around his hands against Mare's head; she just smiled it off.

  Lifting even my dad with ease, slamming him inside a tiny cell at the end of the hallway.

  ...

  His eyes are sharp again; they have their focus back.

  Getting out of this prison is one thing, getting through the warden, but what after that?

  Where do we go? Where can we go? How do we get there?

  It's a depressing thought, but this might be the safest place for us to be, for a while at least.

  No one would look for wanted criminals inside a prison, not right away at least.

  We don't know how much time has passed since we got here.

  hours? days?

  There is nothing on me I could check, no wounds; my hair is too long to tell anything to begin with.

  They even cut my fingernails while I was unconscious.

  While we are split up, I need to gather as much information as possible.

  A prison is a structure run by people; people make mistakes and leave crumbs.

  Especially if they think you can't ever oppose them.

  Standing up from the corner I was covering in, I am inside the room Mare threw me into.

  Most cells I've seen on my way here had doors made out of iron bars; this one, however, is made out of iron entirely.

  It's a lot more private, a lot more isolated...

  On the left side is the door; opposing it is a patch of hay on the floor.

  Guessing that is supposed to be a bed?

  Going from one side to the other is around six steps and a bit.

  Along the wall are several holes with iron bars in them; it's possible to look into the courtyard through them.

  At the right corner, away from the door, there is a wooden bucket with a clean cloth bag put over it.

  On its left is a bowl with some fruits in it; next to it is a book.

  It's a bound book with a leathery cover and the words 'Newman Dictionary ~812' written in white on it.

  Sitting myself down, leaning under the windows.

  Repeating what happened during the day over and over, I let my thoughts wander.

  The sun was setting quickly, and only the dim light of the night filled the room.

  Soon after, someone started singing from within the courtyard.

  I tried catching a glimpse, but it was too dark to properly see anything all the way down there.

  It's a beautiful song, but I don't understand the meaning of it.

  The words are clear, but I've never heard any of them; maybe that's why there is a newman encyclopedia here.

  I close my eyes and focus on the singing; I can't help but hum and sing along.

  Nodding back and forth, repeating the song is calming.

  I only stop when I hear the door closing; a beastfolk woman suddenly stands in the room, staring down at me.

  Her hair is a brown colour that reminds me of a chestnut, it stretches slightly below her shoulder.

  The ears appear to be on her head, being two edged bumps; her face is pale like she has seen a ghost.

  Her eyebrows fluffed up and going slightly upwards, sharing the same colour as her hair.

  Green eyes with a bigger than usual pupil; instead of a tiny dot, it appears like a big black circle.

  She is wearing nice clean clothes; she also has the number one in black on her right shoulder.

  They appear to be the proper and clean version of the ones I am wearing, just without the holes and tears.

  Her body was full of feathers, and her arms were like the wings of a bird with five claw-like fingers at the edge of them.

  The feathers go all the way down to her ankles; her bare feet are normal, just like a newman's.

  A few seconds pass, she lets out a whisper in a frightened tone.

  "Heeh."

  Heeh?

  She tilts her head towards her left shoulder and raises her voice a bit.

  "Am I dead?"