"13th Signet - Chained" by Anitta Hiekkanen

Chained

The weight of the body was pulling down. Darkness seeped through the eyelids. Growls filled the air until a shrieking howl ascended above all. A putrid stench assaulted the senses. The sensations were uncomfortable, but not unfamiliar. This was the realm of men.

The exile was reality. It had been coming for some time, so there was no surprise. Only the grim resolution to survive.

Slowly Neria got on her feet. Nothing seemed to be broken, but little aches all over the body, her body, told her they hadn't been gentle. When she tried to stretch her wings, there was chiming among the gentle rustle of feathers.

With dread she glanced over her shoulder. Chains ran around her wings binding them so tightly she could hardly move them an inch. She didn't need to see the dull sheen to recognize the metal. They really didn't want to give her even the slightest chance of returning.

But there was nothing she could do about the chains right now, and there were more pressing matters to attend to. Like finding some place safer than the alley she was in. Sharpening her senses, Neria inched closer to the narrow opening between the two grimy brick walls. She took a quick glance around the corner.

Although it was the middle of the night, the street was still buzzing. It was filled with social outcasts and misfits of varying degrees. Then there were the thrill seekers, people who went to work every morning fresh as daisies, looking for some excitement to their mundane suburbia lives. Taking a walk on the dark side.

Neria stepped back into the shadows to assess her situation. This was obviously the shadier part of town, and she had no weapons. Even the small dagger usually strapped on her ankle was gone. She was still wearing most of her armor, though she doubted it would only make her more notable. Like the huge pair of wings jutting out of her back wouldn't be sufficient.

Neria waited until the tourists were gone before hitting the street. She kept an eye on everything, but avoided any direct contact. That was the smartest thing to do at this hour. Once she started walking, it didn't take her long to get out of the nightly transactions district. Little by little the buildings started to look like someone actually took the time to take care of them.

Turning around a random corner, Neria couldn't believe her eyes. Across the street stood a small Gothic chapel dwarfed between two office buildings. She took a few steps forward and frowned. The windows were boarded shut, and the portal was sealed with a length of chain locket in place with a huge rusty padlock. Windblown debris was piled on the stairs. Although everything, including the decorations, seemed wrong, Neria felt this was her sanctuary.

She glanced around, then slipped into the shadows between the chapel and one of the office buildings. Watching her every step, she slowly made her way to the back scanning for any possible way inside. Finally she saw something hidden in the stone folds. Just under the eaves was a small hatch. She had no way of knowing if it would even open, but the only way to find out was to try.

Since flying was no longer an option, Neria could only climb. The decoration of the wall worked like a ladder, so she got to the hatch in no time. Hesitantly she grabbed the iron ring on the hatch. Taking a deep breath, she pulled.

The hatch opened without a sound. Neria paused for a moment to feel the place. When her senses didn't find anything to be concerned about, she crawled through the opening. She found herself in a narrow passageway with only one direction to take. All tough there were no side corridors, Neria soon lost her bearings in the sharp turns and staircases. Without warning the passageway was blocked by a wooden panel.

Neria fumbled around before her fingers hit something. With a click, the panel came ajar. Neria pushed it open and walked into a grand vestibule. She closed her eyes and sighed. Finally, after centuries, she felt safe.