Ashton and Drake continued to live inside the cage, despite the relentless dimmings and lightings of the lanterns and the pressure of death and sickness around them. What can be said about the time that had passed? The whole thing seemed purposeless to Ashton and Drake, and they often thought that there was never an end to it. Drake had told Ashton to stick close to him so that whatever spell existed that was contorting the minds of the other prisoners would be warded off by his ring. But, was their fate then simply to die and rot in these cages, slowly being digested inside the giant beast that was the caravan? Not knowing the purpose for their imprisonment added torture to their captivity. All attempts to communicate with the guards ended in failure. The guards were surprised and afraid of Drake, the man who somehow voided the magic of their mages and could also speak their tongue. They struck out at him when he hollered at them in frustration, yelling out curses and obscenities at any soldier close by when his spirit was hot.

“I do not think that yelling at them will help,” Ashton said calmly. He was used to this situation by now, if one could get used to such a life. It was soon after the brightening of the lanterns that the guards had fed the captives that morning and Drake had taken another stab at communicating with the soldiers, but it ended as it always did with Drake receiving a sharp jab with the butt end of a spear. “They are avoiding you now, and you are disturbing this peaceful time.”

“Fool, there is no peace here.” Drake growled, rubbing his shoulder where he had been hit. “Peace is a quiet morning besides the pool of lilies and a meal prepared by the servants. If only they would listen they would understand my value and get me out of here, but those ignorant savages rebuff everything I say. Surely, they know of the house of Foendell from my territory? But all that is here is the sound of wagons, soldiers, and fire. If nothing else, yelling at them makes me feel better.” Drake said huffily and he sat down in a plot and grabbed a piece of bread. He bit into it angrily, as if he resented being fed. “You should try it sometime, too. I would love to see some hot blood flowing through you for once. Maybe they will let us out if here if we make enough noise.” Ashton snorted but didn’t say anything.

Despite the differences between the two humans, they had become close friends. They often irritated each other, but endless time with another person of at least an agreeable nature could only produce such result. Even more so, they each depended on the other for sanity and companionship.

“How can you be so cool and calm, accepting this all?” Drake demanded. If my Father new I was here he would send all his men to come rescue me.” He pounded on the cage walls again to emphasize his points.

Ashton replied, not looking up, “Your Father is not here, Drake. It is taught in my village that what comes will come, whether we struggle against it or not. Our songs speak about life as an unwavering flow of movement toward an end we do not know, but to an end nonetheless. Therefore, it is sung that what has happened must have happened, inevitably must have happened.”

“So you are a bunch of fatalists, then?”

Ashton shook his head, “It goes even further than that actually. We sing of the necessity of tragedies.”

Drake grimaced, “How can you live with yourselves? It was taught to my brothers and I that we need to have a strong burning fire in each of us in order to continue the dynasty our forefathers had built. We are told to face problems boldly and use our strength and resources to conquer adversaries, that is how my Father subdued our neighboring country, forcing it to pay tribute after they had treacherously tried to annex some of our land. I’m surprised you all haven’t committed some sort of ritual suicide yet.”

Ashton glared at Drake, “On the contrary, this allows us to find what little good remains in every situation, to find meaning.”

“Those are two foundational and contradictory beliefs.” Drake accused. Ashton only shrugged, “What? So basically, you live by two beliefs, one is that even when there was nothing else good around to rely on, you could always say you were alive and that was good. The other one is that even if you couldn’t rely on living for long, you could say that death would be a relief and that was good as well.”

Ashton smiled and replied, “I wish I could take you to meet my village elders. I’m sure you would understand.”

Drake shook his head and closed his eyes. “Who am I to talk though? I can’t even tell what goes on inside my own mind, where two contradictory memories exist. How much of each person yet exists inside of me and how much have they blended?”

Ashton looked up questioningly. “I don’t understand what you are talking about.” Drake didn’t respond.

Eventually, Drake had lost track of how many days he and Ashton had been with the caravan, but he estimated about a month, a month of nothing but the rolling plains and forests that the wagons traveled through. Once, Drake asked Ashton when the sun was going to rise.

“The sun?” replied Ashton as if he had not heard that word before.

“Yeah, the sun. It’s been like two days and the sun hasn’t come up yet. I may have lost track of time completely, but I feel the sun should have come up by now. Or the moon at least. Maybe the days and nights are just longer here.”

“I’m sorry Drake,” Ashton responded, “but I don’t understand what you are saying. I do not know what your sun is or what you mean by day or night. Describe them to me; maybe we just have different words.”

“You’re fooling me,” Drake said, exasperated. He waved his hands up high in illustration, “You know, the sun, the big yellow thing in the sky. Gives of light and heat, rises in the east, sets in the west, all that stuff. The sun, we call it the sun where I am from. Please tell you have seen such a thing.” He had said sarcastically but Ashton simply give him a blank look. “What!” he exclaimed, “you do not have a sun here? That’s crazy! How do the plants grow without the light from the sun? How does the atmosphere stay warm? How can anything exist with the sun?”

A moment passed and Ashton considered his questions. “The plants grow because they are alive,” Ashton replied calmly, giving Drake a puzzled look. “And it is warm because it is warm, except when it gets cold. I do not understand what you are asking. Things exist because they exist.”

“But the sun is essential for life,” Drake insisted, “It provides the light and heat of the day. It’s impossible to live without it.” Drake paused and regained his composure. “Okay, let me ask this then.” He said, “You are right, we are probably just having a translation issue. I will be as general as possible, okay?” he asked slowly, “What brings times of general light and then general darkness at regular intervals?”

Ashton studied Drake for a moment and then said simply, “Well, these lanterns here do.” Drake couldn’t respond but gaped in astonishment at Ashton. Ashton felt peeved at being treated like a dolt. He said angrily, “Do not look at me like that, it is obvious that what you are talking about are these lanterns. They do just what you said, periods of light and then darkness at regular times. What more are you looking for? But I take from your reaction that that was not what you meant. Then I must tell you that these lanterns are the only thing here that resembles what you speak of, and before I was captured, I had never seen such a thing either. You say that this sun gives off light, lots of light if it is similar to these lanterns. But I tell you the truth; I have always lived in darkness, except for the light we create from fire. I was amazed to see such things when I was first captured, and even now I still find it difficult to believe that so much light could be produced. Even without fire! My eyes still hurt from their brightness; I wish they would dim down a little bit. But that is not something I can control.”

Drake didn’t respond but simply sat there saying softly, “How can there not be a sun, that’s crazy. It’s preposterous.”

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.” Ashton said, “Think of all the new things I have seen. Sorcery, light, lands, and people strange and unreal. We live in an unfamiliar world for both of us now. Is it so far of a stretch for there to be no “sun” either?”

Drake did not look convinced. He looked at Ashton directly and stated defiantly, “Yes, it is.” Then he childishly folded his arms and pouted. Ashton rolled his eyes and thought, “how can he act this way? This “sun” couldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“Alright, then” Ashton said raising his arms in a gesture, giving in to him. He asked scathingly, “If it is so important to you why don’t you tell me about this “sun?” Maybe you will feel better after talking about it. And while you are at it, tell me about where you are from. We haven’t really talked about that yet.”

Drake sighed and shook his head, but started talking anyway. “I shouldn’t have to talk about the sun. It’s simply there, everybody knows about the sun.” Ashton raised his eyebrow at Drake and he said, “Forget it, if it doesn’t exist here than it doesn’t matter. This place has been absurd so far,” he added sarcastically, “Why shouldn’t it simply break all rules for existence as well? Even for magic, this is just too much.”

Ashton almost pointed out that he already said that but decided against it. He let it go. Perhaps it was an important enough thing to cause such a reaction. After a moment he softened and said instead, “I would still like to hear more about where you are from, though, if you want to talk about it.”

Drake didn’t respond, so Aston didn’t press it. “He still needs some time,” he thought. And he let the matter be, but pondered what he heard in his heart. Just who was Drake to speak of such things? Where was he from to have this place be so foreign to him? Of all the strange things Ashton had encountered, Drake was the strangest. He defied the rules and common knowledge of this world.

Nothing new transpired for weeks and Drake and Ashton somehow got used to life, or at least as used to it as could possibly be. They filled their time as they could, talking, sitting, and singing, as if there was anything else they could do. But they kept their sanity, and both promised each other not to give into despair.

“The songs my people sing are part of who we are.” Ashton would repeat, “How else are we to pass down knowledge and traditions through the generations? It has always been a part of me. I understand that other people do not share our same … regard for music. Are there songs from where you are from?”

“Yes, there are, actually. Lots of songs.” Drake admitted, “But I was never a good singer and, I don’t know. The court bards knew many songs, but no songs likes yours.”

“What a shame. I tell you the truth, there is nothing like music in the world! It cleans and purifies the soul. When the many voices of our tribe all sing together, it is like a great warmth enters us. How it is moves the heart! Words have meaning in themselves, but somehow when put to song, feelings are able to be transferred as well. If you think that you cannot sing now, I will have much to teach you. I will have us sing together before too long!”

“Unlikely,” Drake said, “I don’t sing. I was once told my voice sounded like a dying cow.”

“Oh, I won’t accept that.” Ashton replied in good humor, “Besides, while it is true that a beautiful voice enhances the song, truly beautiful music comes from the heart, not the mouth. You will learn to enjoy music like I have. Why would I sing alone when there is a perfectly good person here to sing with me? As you know, or I guess, maybe you don’t know, music is better with more people. It’s meant to be shared with lots of people, not alone.”

“Why is this so important to you?” Drake asked.

Ashton thought for a moment and said, “As a general rule, the tribe I am from has minimal contact with other people. The tribes like to keep to themselves, and identity in the tribe defines us. I didn’t know that other tribes did not sing as we did until I was already half grown. It was strange for me to learn that too, since song is such a foundational feature in our culture; I could not believe that everybody was not similar. I guess you could say our songs are what define me as part of my tribe.”

“As such,” Ashton continued, growing sentimental and looked out across the lands, “singing now helps me identify myself with my tribe. I feel connected with my people even though we are far apart; do you know what I mean? I know they are singing similar songs at Carothos. They will keep singing in the future too.”

Ashton turned back to Drake with a smile, “We have song for just about everything we do too, whether before a meal, while working, or while traveling. We do not have songs for being in captivity, though, what a pity. I only sing what I feel like now, which is quite rebellious I must say. Children are punished for singing songs out of context inside the village. The elders are strict about it, if you know what I mean. But I had always believed that the songs should be sang as felt in our hearts. So, as you can imagine, I was considered somewhat of a problem-child growing up. I even made up some of my own songs as well, something really unheard of at my village.” Ashton smiled mischievously, “I was always getting scolded. I remember one time when I was small and the adults had left for herding. The village was mostly deserted, so I sang loudly one of my favorite songs, while skipping about the well at the center of the village. But Caily-Oba had stayed behind due to her age. She heard me singing and rushed out with her cane to me. She whacked me with it, and I fell into the cistern next to the well and almost drowned.” Ashton shook his head laughing, “That goes to show how important it was to the elders. ‘Our songs are part of a long and distinguished tradition that has kept our people alive for generations!’ they would say. ‘To disrespect the song is to disrespect everything our village stands for!’ Perhaps they were right, as I grew older I understood what they meant better. But still,” Ashton smiled devilishly at Drake, “None of the elders are here now. Now I can sing what I want, when I want.” He grinned like a child indulging in some secret pleasure incorrigibly.

Drake simply snorted and said, “Yeah what great luck for you. You have been captured and now can sing all you want. Congratulations.” But Ashton merely laughed at Drake and started singing another song, probably one he had made up himself and one that the elders would have been aghast at as well. He sang with a mischievous glint in his eye,

Odillaly, odilally,

I like the taste of bread and honey

Budgafall, budgafall

I’m so selfish to eat it all!

I found a bee around a tree

And smelled the sweet and thought the treat

Up up high above a branch

I saw the hive, I saw my chance!

Odillaly, odilally,

I like the taste of bread and honey

Budgafall, budgafall

I’m so selfish to eat it all!

I fetched the skin from the bin of my kin

And wrapped myself for times of stealth

For I wanted the nest all alone

And not take it back to the people at home.

Odillaly, odilally,

I like the taste of bread and honey

Budgafall, budgafall

I’m so selfish to eat it all!

With the skin as my protection

My plan worked out in its perfection!

I got to the nest

My climb at its best

The honey I secured

Despite what I feared!

Odillaly, odilally,

I like the taste of bread and honey

Budgafall, budgafall

I’m so selfish to eat it all!

But foolish me, not to see

The cost of being alone

I climbed my way down

but it slipped to the ground!

destroyed upon a stone

Odillaly, odilally,

I like the taste of bread and honey

Budgafall, budgafall

I should’ve had help to save it all!

Ashton sang this merrily and afterwards insisted Drake join in. Drake resisted stubbornly though and refused. In protest Ashton sang as loudly as possible within their cage. but it was fun. They laughed at themselves and they laughed at the guards who eyed them warily, two people defying their prison. They continued to sing until the lanterns dimmed again, forgetting for a moment the horror of their captivity. Ashton sang to Drake many other songs, some silly some more serious, but all inappropriate for the setting. It was as if they had gotten merry off wine.

The guards by nature were never too concerned about the captivity of their prisoners. They trusted completely in the spells that held them. Drake was simply an oddity to them, and rather than dealing directly with the problem, they generally avoided and ignored his presence. Because of that, Drake was eventually able to get the shackles off his hands. After playing around with them for days; he had managed to pry them off.

“See that?” he said proudly, holding up the shackles for Ashton to see, “Already halfway there.” Unfortunately, his hopes didn’t last, his feet were much more secure than his hands, and try as he might, he could not unlock them. The shackles were also connected to the wagon securely; he suspected there was magic involved.

Drake’s wide range of curses amused Ashton. “How can my hands come off so easily and not my feet?” Drake raged, “It is like they are trying to torment me on purpose, giving me a little hope, but then crushing it. My hands are free but it’s useless! And how come the spell connecting me to that cage works but not the others?”

“Really?” Ashton would reply, “Your hands come off? I would like to see that trick.”

“Maybe not so useless after all.” Drake would respond, throwing a pile of straw at Ashton.

But having the extra piece of iron around proved enlightening. After trying to break their way out of the wagon with it, they saw that a spell also surrounded the cage making it impossible even if they broke through the wood. “What don’t they use magic for?” Drake exclaimed. “How can they expend this kind of energy? they must have thousands of mages here to keep this operation running! There’s not even a need for a cage at this rate. Might as well just have a roof over our heads. Why do they even put us in here? In the end, I guess this ring is not as helpful as we thought.”

But Ashton replied, “Don’t belittle it too much! It may not get us out of here, but it seems to protect us from the wagon curse. I would rather keep my sanity and remain in prison than escape with madness. But still, it is a pity that your ring won’t break that spell as well.”

“We will need to be freed from the outside then.” Drake said, but then he was silent. What hope was there in that?

The iron shackles useful in other ways though. Hours without end was wearisome and they spent it however they could without going crazy. With the sharp piece of metal they started to carve and create what little they could inside the cage. They covered the wagon with images; the iron was unwieldy, but effective. Drake wrote on the side in letters.

“What did you write?” Ashton asked, after having writing explained to him.

“It says, Ashton is a jackle.” Drake replied. “I wanted to write out my feelings.”

“Oh,” Ashton said mockingly, “What strong feelings you have for me. However, I am afraid you are doomed to sorrow for I cannot reciprocate your feelings.”

The iron also had another purpose as well. When the walls were filled completely, they had to look again for something to do. “Hey,” Ashton said suddenly, “help me pry this piece of wood off.”

“Are you sure?” Drake asked looking at the art he was pointing at. “You spent a while carving this picture into it.”

“Yeah, I’m going to make a flute out of it.”

“You know how to make a flute?” Drake asked, reaching for the slab of wood pointed out.

“Well, no.” Ashton replied, “But I know how to play one.” They wrenched it free and Ashton felt the weight with his hands. “Yeah, I think this will work.”

Ashton picked up the sharp iron and held it over the wood. He appeared uncertain as to what was next. “Are you sure you can do this?” Drake asked.

Ashton smiled and lowered his hands. “Let me tell you another thing about our culture Drake. Flutes carry a special meaning for my people, more so than for other people I have met. All the males are taught how to play the flute from an early age, and it is an important part of our music. I could play the flute in my sleep.” He chuckled a bit, “Maybe I will once I finish it. I’ll fill the guards’ heads with lonely sounds for lonely thoughts. Maybe they will let us go, no?” Ashton laughed. “In our tribe, when a man decides to take a wife, part of the initiation process is the ability to make a flute. The father will generally teach his son how to do it, but only at that time. The success of the son is very important part of the ceremony, so it is not to be treated lightly. After it is completed, the flute is a sign of the start of a new family. In other words, every household has a flute in it. The beauty and quality of the flute is important as well and a sign of respect for the household. However, conversely is also true. I have seen marriages broken off because the man couldn’t make a satisfactory flute. It is a curse to us, as well as a blessing. I guess that is what it means to have a tradition.” He laughed again at himself and looked at the pieces in his hands again.

“You are not to be married, though?” Drake asked, “Aren’t you breaking your tradition?”

“Yes I am. But it will be okay.” He said sadly. “It doesn’t look like I will be getting married anytime soon and I much desire to play it again. I was the best at playing the flute within our family too; Father always let me play it during the festivals. Anyway,” his face brightened, “if I do manage to produce a flute, without any instruction mind you, everybody will be very impressed when I return, and I will have the pick of the ladies.” He held out the wood like a pointer stick and said, “I’ll just line them up and say, “hmm, you pass, you pass, no not you…”

They both laughed, and from then Ashton worked on creating his flute. He wasn’t successful and used op much of the wood in the cage. “We will just strip the whole thing, and eventually and be left without a roof!” Ashton would joke.

So the two ate and slept, and Ashton carved and sang and Drake eventually sang as he could. Ashton generally slept soundly and did get used to the light and the schedule. “Such a strange thing,” he said about it, “and you say that where you are from there is also such light? It is remarkable. You will have to tell me about it when you feel up to it.” Drake didn’t respond.

But Drake did not sleep as well as Ashton, and he often had dreams and nightmares. Ashton would hear him at night, shaking and shivering from the distress. “Shut up!” Ashton would hear him growl, “Stop looking at me like that! I won’t do it! I will do what I want; I don’t have to obey you!” Ashton never said anything. It seemed Drake had his own demons to fight.

The nightmare happened again, late one night and Drake awoke sick. He leaned over as far to the side of the cage as he could to empty his rebelling stomach. It always amazed him that while a hand could not pass the barrier, his stomach fluids could. He laid back down and breathed heavily, holding his hand to his head.

It was dark and silent, and a rain had started falling. The fires behind the wagons never faltered, though, even during the rainstorms, but the rain did make everything darker and wet. Drake was glad that there was yet a roof to their wagon to keep them dry. He stayed awake and watched the rain; he doubted he would have been able to fall asleep again that night. Then Drake noticed something odd. Something was different. He saw the wagons had suddenly started to become more active with people and beasts. He sat up and looked out from his cage, trying to understand what was happening. Then shouts came and there was also the sound of clinking metal and rushing soldiers. Horns started blowing and there was much commotion within the camp. The lanterns then suddenly lit up, much earlier than their due time.

“Ashton, Ashton,” Drake called shaking him roughly, “Wake up!”

“What, what. What do you want?” Ashton responded irritably.

But Drake didn’t respond and instead kept his gaze on the activity of the camp. Ashton looked up too and then sat up quickly. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Loud bells and horns were ringing out and the soldiers were running around, men shouted orders and armor clad people whisked by. Drake listened carefully, and then responded, “I think we are being attacked.”