Restart Again: Volume 1 by Adam Scott (motivational books for women TXT) 📗

moment, I peeked my eyes open. The same, young face from before was still looking back at me. Shutting the mana off to my sword made the image ripple away, replacing it with the cool blue-tinged manasteel I was used to. Hey, I just used magic to do exactly what I wanted without even thinking about it. Making something mirrored was definitely outside my wheelhouse. That’s a great step forward, right?  I put the sword away behind me, sending it back to its scabbard, and tried to keep my mind focused on other things. The girl. Talk to her. Find out why she’s here, what she did...anything.

“Hey.” I called out, standing up unsteadily. I walked to the edge of my cell and leaned on the bars as I observed the girl opposite me. “Are you alright?” She bolted upright, seemingly startled by the fact that the world still existed around her. Slowly, she turned her head, and a look of shock took over her face when she saw me in the cell across from her. She thought she was alone down here. She did her best to right herself, standing to fix her hair and dress as she backed away from the bars to the wall behind her.

“Yes. I’m f-fine.” She replied, sniffling. Her eyes were downcast, looking anywhere but directly at me.

I cocked an eyebrow, staring at her for a few seconds in silence. “Alright then.” I turned and walked to my cot, stretching out with an exaggerated yawn. Flat on my back with my feet hanging over the edge of the cot I closed my eyes and waited. From across the hall I heard the light shuffling of feet and the creak of a long unused cot. It was only a minute until I heard her crying again, more heavily than before.

“You know, you don’t really sound fine.” I spoke out to the ceiling, still lying with my eyes closed. “What did a girl like you do to get locked up down here?” Letting the statement sit for a while, I was surprised that I heard nothing in response. The crying was a bit quieter now, but the girl stayed silent otherwise. Well, she’s certainly a stubborn one. Though I guess she probably doesn’t realize the full severity of her situation.

“If they’ve put you down in the dungeon with me, that means they plan to keep you here for a while. They don’t just throw you down here for stealing a loaf of bread or cutting a purse.” I had gathered as much on my trip into the prison. There were multiple holding cells on the ground floor that had been occupied with a large number of people: Drunkards, simple thieves and the like, by my estimation. But here, multiple levels underground, I hadn’t seen a single prisoner in my hallway. This was where the dangerous ones were held. And her…

“But I didn’t do anything…” Her reply was so soft I barely heard it, even through the silence.

I did my best to suppress a small smile. Now we’re getting somewhere. “Well, somebody thinks you did, obviously.”

“I didn’t do anything!” She repeated, much louder this time. I heard the cot squeak again as she stood and took a few steps. “I was at home sewing with Mother, and they came and started arguing with Father outside.” There was a fire in her voice, her fear and anger clear.

I could hear her breath was ragged and hard from across the hall. Clearly, she was beyond crying at this point. Anger is better than hopelessness. “So, tell me, what did your father do to make these men angry? Cheated at dice at the tavern one too many times?”

“No!” the girl shouted at me. “My father is a good man! They always come to our house and make trouble for him, like breaking his wagon or trying to take his money, and we didn’t do anything wrong!”

Things were starting to add up in my head, and a knot began to twist in my gut. I sat up and spun to look at her. The girl’s face was flushed from yelling and she no longer avoided my eyes. “Who is ‘they?’ Bandits?”

“The city guards! It’s always the same ones, every time! The fat stupid one, and the tall one, and the twins!” A tear rolled down her cheek. “My father is a good man...”

My blood turned to ice in my veins. It can’t just be a coincidence. The two guards from the gate...those conniving fucks. “The tall man with the crooked nose, and the fat man with the mustache, right?”

Her eyes widened, and I knew I was right. “You know them?” She paused a moment for an answer, but then leaned toward me intently as she continued. “That means that you believe me, right? If you know those two, you must know how awful they are!”

I scowled. “Yeah, I know them. I had the displeasure to meet them at the Trader’s Gate last week when I arrived in the city.” As I watched her expression change, I took a moment to reflect on her situation. She’s obviously terrified after the day she’s had. If she can keep her spirits up in a place like this, she has a stronger resolve than I thought. “So, how do you fit into all of this? Why did the guards arrest you?”

“I don’t really know.” Her brow furrowed. “Father told them he was done paying their ‘protection tax’ after they ruined Mother’s garden again a few days ago. They came back this morning with their friends, but Mother told me not to listen, and after that…” She trailed off, uncertain. “I’m not sure what it has to do with me, though.”

I’m sure Dad is already back to paying them by now. Probably double. And if he toes the line, maybe his daughter will come back home. Although, if these scumbags are low enough to kidnap someone for leverage, they won’t miss out on the opportunity to take