Ranvir stared emptily at the cell before him. It was half again as wide as the span of his arms, half again as tall as the span of his arms, and slightly more than half again as deep as the span of his arm. On the opposite wall was a little outcropping of gray stone, the little bit of hay spread on it and the blanket at the foot suggested it was supposed to be both his bed and a bench to sit on.

Numbly, he stepped forward past the door that would soon refuse his passage. He tried to breathe deeply as he examined the cell. It was small, tiny really, but his mother’s forge hadn’t been big either. Most of that space had been taken up by the forge itself along with the workbenches and shelves. Throw two people in there and it quickly grew cramped.

Ranvir turned around looking out the doorframe at the bright torch opposite him. The door was made of a pale wood a chunk had been taken out at eye height with bronze bars to stop him reaching through. There were similar gaps on the wall behind him that allowed daylight into the cell.

Pashar currently occupied the door frame, her silhouette outlined clearly in the pale steady light of the torch behind her. She had one hand on the door, the one she would soon shut on him.

“I’ve made arrangements with Himir,” Pashar said. “Hjara’s already arrived and is currently taking care of Frija. As she will be for the entirety of the ten days.”

Ten days.

The strength went out of Ranvir’s legs and slumped back onto the bench, the straw shifting under him.

“I’m sorry it’s gone like this,” Pashar continued. “I argued for house arrest, keeping you in confined to your apartment instead,” she was silent for a moment. “Ragnar didn’t think that was much of a punishment, however. I might’ve told him too much about you over the last few months. This is my fault.”

The room swam around Ranvir, it took him a moment to realize he’d shook his head, “No, I’m the one who nearly killed someone,” the words sounded foreign even though he knew they came from him. “This is my fault, not yours.”

Ten days.

Ranvir hung his head staring emptily at the dark stone below his feet.

“Kirs will be by shortly with some of your stuff,” Pashar said then shut the door. “Your punishment begins immediately after.”

Ranvir sniffed as Pashar walked away, her footsteps quiet in the silent hall. He only knew she’d left by the sound of door closing. He shifted his booted feet on the cold stone and pulled slightly on the red band around his arm.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there when the door opened again. “Be quick,” Pashar said, her words followed by rapid footsteps and the clinking of metal on metal.

The door was shoved open. Looking up, Ranvir found Kirs look at him. She stepped in quickly with a bundle of cloth under her arm. For a moment, Ranvir’s heart spiked as he thought she might’ve brought Frija, but no presence emerged from the bundle. It was just clothes.

“I have to be quick,” Kirs said putting her bundle down. “I grabbed an extra uniform, I figured you would be happy about that. I also checked on your pocket and the dormancy ritual is maintaining it well, it should last at least a few days beyond your punishment,” she smiled as she said it. “I’ll be dropping by regularly for my own experiments and will keep an eye on it in case something changes. On the note of rituals, I looked for your kit but couldn’t find it…”

Ranvir looked at her raised brows before, nodding slowly, “I’ve got it.”

Her mouth opened into a little ‘oh’ before closing rapidly. “They didn’t take it?”

“Don’t think they noticed I have it,” Ranvir muttered in reply. At least, Ragnar didn’t.

She grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. He mimicked her, returning the motion though it rang hollow. He couldn’t believe things would be fine, this was an abandonment of his daughter. And it was his fault, even if Latresekt had been the one to do it. He hadn’t been wary enough of the creature.

“Okay. I gotta go, Ranvir,” she pulled him into a hug startling him before she stepped back. “Take care.”

Then the door closed and the lock shut him in once more. Ranvir slumped back against the wall, staring into the bright-torch and he thought about Frija. Would she recognize that he was gone? How would she react to him missing for ten days? Would she even notice? She probably wouldn’t. He wasn’t that good at being a dad anyway. Surely, Hjara was a better parent than he was, she was older and more experienced than him.

This was all his fault. It would be right if she didn’t recognize him. Ranvir shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge his gray thoughts, dark and dreary. He stared into the light of the bright-torch for a long time, hours, before it started to fade. The hallway and cell plunged into complete blackness with as the last torch went out.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he must’ve at some point because he was startled awake by a whispered voice.

Ranvir his cell was cast in a yellow light, flickering reminiscent of a fire. Blinking twice, his eyelids lingering shut he turned to the source through the barred window of the door. A pair of yellow eyes cracks like dropped pottery running through them, and within the depths of those cracks were flickers of purple space.

“Come with me,” Saleema whispered to the half-asleep Ranvir. “You are not my son. But you could be.”

Fingers poked through the bars, grabbing onto the door. She was just barely tall enough to look through the window. Ranvir saw her lick her lips as she stared intently at him, waiting for his answer.

He slumped slightly his eyes failing to fight back against the weight dragging them down.

“No, no, no, don’t sleep!” She spoke a little louder making Ranvir’s eyes flicker open, before closing again. He was exhausted, drained after the events of the day. She cursed something in kisi before he heard her muttering, “Fine, I will find another way.”

Ranvir woke up squinting, surprised to find himself leaning into the corner of his cell. He started at the figure he spotted through his door, dark hair and dark skin.

It’s just Pashar, he realized. Not Saleema… he shook his head, had she been there last night? She couldn’t have, right?

“I’m not actually supposed to be here,” Pashar’s words carried oddly into his room. They had a ‘dead’ quality to it that he couldn’t recognize. He finally registered the hint of smoke, more felt by his tether-sense than by his actual sight.

“What are you doing to the air?”

“Doesn’t matter. I thought you should know that I am going away for a few days. I’d forgotten in the buzz of yesterday, but that means I can’t check up on Hjara and Frija myself. Of course, Kirs is still visiting often but I wanted to let you know. I should be back before you get out, though. Take care.”

And then she was gone.

Ranvir blinked realizing he hadn’t seen her turn away, she’d just disappeared. Walking up to the door, he looked through the window but couldn’t find her anywhere. Frowning, he stepped away, “What was that about?” he muttered to himself.

He went over her words again, “Take care?” he repeated to himself, scratching the back of his head, “What did she mean by that?” he turned to look out the window again, but his tether-sense told him that there were only a few people in the building with him. A second-stage tethered towards the entrance—probably a student—and a few more spread throughout the building, presumably in other cells.

“Take care,” Ranvir muttered pacing the cell, before peering out the window again, “Take care?” wide-eyed he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “She must just be worried about someone else trying something while I’m trapped in here,” he said. “With nowhere to go and no way to sneak in.”

He shook his head, repeating the two words to himself over and over again. “What do I need to take care of? Take care from?” Ranvir had already paced himself dizzy in the room and he only had approximately nine and three quarters more days left.

Someone knocked on his door and a slot he hadn’t noticed before opened up. A tray with a bowl of stew and a cup of water was pushed through, “Breakfast,” a tired voice called out. Cautiously, Ranvir accepted the tray and the slot closed. “I’ll be by in half an hour with washing water and to take back the tray, be ready.”

The stew was barely warm to the touch and there were no spoon, but that wasn’t what caught Ranvir’s attention, “Washing water?”

The voice sighed, “Just a jug of cold water don’t get your hopes up”

Running a hand across his jaw, Ranvir nodded, “Thanks,” then he peeled open the aperture to his pocket-space and cracked the chest, dimly realizing he hadn’t broken the space last night despite sleeping. He quickly removed a single basket that had been carefully placed at the top and closed the pocket again.