Shackled Serenity

by Leon Logos

  Before Lily could answer, they were stopped by an Aurelian patrol.

  “Ma’am, you are summoned to the Council Hall,” he said to her.

  “M-me?” Serenity pointed at herself.

  “Yes. Now.”

  She was about to fire another question but was too late. The patrol marched away, having completed his role as messenger.

  CHAPTER TWENTY- FOUR

  She didn’t know what to expect as she tentatively made her way to the Council Hall with Lily. Two weeks living with the Aurelians, and she was already being summoned into the Council Hall, where the most distinguished and prominent figures in the Family convened. There was nothing she could remember that she did wrong.

  “Don’t be nervous, they probably just want to say hi,” Lily said warmly, noticing her disconcertment.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought…”

  “But you’re lucky! I’ve never been inside the Council Hall. Only the super important people are allowed in!”

  “And I don’t think I belong in that category,” said Serenity.

  The apposition of both a dog and a cat caught her attention as they strode past the courtyard, the southern entrance of the main house in view.

  The Council Hall was beyond yet another set of grand double doors. Two heavily armed soldiers were guarding it, facing directly forward. Serenity waited for them to say anything. She quickly realized they wouldn’t speak first, after twenty seconds of awkward silence.

  “Um—I was summoned here.”

  “Name? Purpose?” one of the guards demanded.

  “Serenity Car—Aurelian. And, well, I was summoned here.”

  To her surprise, the two guards stepped out of the way and knocked three times on the door. She would’ve expected the guards to require more convincing to let her in, but they must’ve been informed. A few moments later, the double doors were opened. Dorian stood by the door, with his usual sophisticated port. He ushered her inside. Serenity stepped forward but halted momentarily; Lily was nudged away from the door by the guards.

  “Sorry, Lily,” said Dorian sweetly. “You’re not allowed.”

  Lily pouted, but she conceded immediately. Serenity smiled at Lily and turned around, stepping further into the Council Hall as the doors shut behind her.

  She was underwhelmed; she had expected a room likewise in scale to the Dining Hall. Someplace long and high-ceilinged, not a room the size of a typical office conference room. The room was lavishly decorated, of course, but comprised primarily of a round table with thirteen people seated around it. The room had no windows, preventing anyone from spying. Dorian motioned for her to take his seat next to Alistair. Serenity ignored the many gazes burning into her eyes as she occupied Dorian’s seat. The walk there felt interminable. She couldn’t help but succumb to anxiety. The people in this room were at the top of the hierarchy—the leaders of the family. Their authority was impeccable, and they could have her executed, flogged, banished, or even imprisoned if they willed it. She felt like an ant at the mercy of a wicked child weaponizing the sun with a magnifying glass, her fate contingent on the vacillation of the child; would the child end her inconsequential life, or let her scurry free?

  She twiddled her obscured fingers on her lap, confused on who to look at or address. Her eyes met Bastion, evoking a prickle of vexation and surprise. She had no idea that Bastion was a member of the Council. He was easily the youngest member. The juxtaposition of his youth and the elderly sagacity in the room was quaint. The second youngest would be Dorian. Bastion narrowed his eyes as he always did when she was present.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,” Alistair began.

  Serenity nodded, centering her gaze on her uncle. It was far less unnerving looking into the eyes of someone she knew and was familiar with.

  “You’re not in trouble; I assure you that,” Alistair added.

  “That’s debatable,” Bastion interposed.

  “Silence, Bastion,” a man snapped. “You are our newest member and will observe, not speak.”

  “As a Councilman in general, I have every right to speak as much as you all,” said Bastion calmly. “But as you wish, Frederick.”

  “Let us commence immediately,” Alistair said forcefully. “Serenity, have you had contact from anybody other than us these past several days?”

  “This is my first time meeting with you all, so no,” Serenity replied.

  “I mean, with the family. Have you had contact with anybody other than the family these past two weeks? Since your arrival?”

  “No…” Serenity said bluntly, not having to think about it.

  “That’s an awfully quick reply,” noted a man skeptically; he had a black eyepatch covering his left eye.

  “Are you sure?” Alistair pressed, staring into her pupils.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “POSITIVE?”

  “Yes—did I do something wrong?” she finally mustered up the courage to ask.

  “You tell me, Serenity,” Bastion interjected once again.

  “I don’t know,” she said irritably.

  Bastion’s distrust was beginning to irk her once again. It troubled her far more than Lyla’s subtle dislike. Gaining Bastion’s trust would be harder than convincing Dorian to quit drinking.

  “I say we just cut to the chase, Alistair,” said the eyepatch man. “Teatime is nigh, and I’d rather not miss it.”

  “There was an attempted infiltration three nights ago,” Alistair continued. “I’m assuming you haven’t heard, considering the warning bell wasn’t sounded. Our sentinels were taken out.”

  “I haven’t,” she said honestly. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, quite well. We’ve apprehended the culprits, and they are currently being jailed, awaiting their fate.”

  “Does this have something to do with me?” she asked meekly.

  There was a low drone of simultaneous snickers at this comment, even among the eldest looking members. It was a stupid question. She could guess that much. Of course, it had something to do with her. Why else would she be summoned? Did they suspect her of being involved in the infiltration?

  “We may have insubstantial evidence, but we may believe you to be utilizing the art of subterfuge,” said the eyepatch man. “If it is true, refrain from dissembling or prevaricating any further. Dissimulation is illicit, am I right?”

  “W-what does that mean?” Serenity asked blankly.

  “It means you’re being suspected of treachery and transgressions!” Bastion rejoined forthrightly. “Spit it out if it’s true. Go on.”

  “No! I haven’t done anything!” Serenity defended herself.

  “We know, we know,” Alistair reassured calmly. “Calm down; the others are jumping to conclusions. Where were you Saturday night?”

  Serenity recollected her memories and thoughts, straining to remember accurately to disprove and repudiate these allegations effectively.

  “With Lily, watching—I think, ‘The Incredibles?’”

  “Watching what?” an old man with a monocle asked, baffled.

  “Can you describe the time period?” Alistair said. “From, perhaps, 9:00 PM to 11:00? Were you in the living quarters the entire time?”

  “Yeah, after dinner, I never go outside because of curfew,” Serenity nodded. “I’ve been obeying the decrees and laws. All the rules.”

  “Yes, I know you have,” Alistair smiled. “I just need to be certain.”

  “I suggest we make further inquiries to renounce these accusations,” said Dorian. “I can end this all with a single question: are you happy here?”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it. It was a simple question to answer. One that she could answer immediately with a “yes.” But answering so quickly and automatically could arouse more suspicion like she was trained—more like prepared—to lie.

  “I’m happy,” Serenity said ultimately. “It’s paradise here, compared to my previous life. And I’ll never take it f
or granted.”

  Nobody looked satisfied at this response. It was as if they were expecting something different to come out of her mouth. She now realized that she was yet to be 100% trusted. Two weeks were inconsequential. But at least Dorian and Alistair wore smiles, even if they were possibly superficial.

  “This meeting is adjourned,” the eyepatch man declared. “No, it’s not,” Bastion maintained. “There’s still much to cover.”

  “I’m sorry, but what exactly am I being suspected of?” Serenity asked, hoping she wasn’t too presumptuous in addressing them.

  “You’re being suspected of nothing,” said Alistair. “We just needed to clarify a few things and remove doubts from some of our minds.”

  “Serenity, we’ll summon you once more after dinner,” Dorian said decisively. “I think it’s best if we just show you, rather than keep secrets and beat around the bush forever. Isn’t that right, Alistair?

  “Indeed,” Alistair nodded, rising from his chair. “Now, this meeting is adjourned. Let us proceed to the Lunch Hall!”

  There was a strident scraping of chairs as the Council members got to their feet and bustled out of the Council Hall. They were very eager to have a meal. The Council meetings had been in session since dawn, right after breakfast. Most of the time, they always were. Long hours of discourse and deliberation were bound to revitalize an appetite.

  She didn’t speak to Alistair or Dorian at the Lunch Hall. They were immersed in their conversations with the other Council members. Serenity wasn’t sure if she was allowed to disclose everything that was said in the Council Hall. She assumed that since they didn’t specifically tell her to keep it confidential, she was allowed to share her experience. But it turned out Sixto and Destiny were already aware of the intruders.

  “We’re in the militia, of course, we knew,” Sixto said, mouth full of chicken. “But they’re not allowed to tell us who they were, though. We’ll find out shortly probably. You know who they are, Destiny?”

  “No, I wasn’t with the unit that apprehended them,” Destiny shook her head. “But you said they were suspicious of you, Serenity?”

  “Yeah,” said Serenity. “I’m not sure why. I had no idea this even happened. And Bastion is hellbent on proving that I’m guilty of something.”

  “Bastion?” Destiny frowned. “No, that can’t be. He’s just cautious. It’s natural of him. He’s inherently circumspect.”

  “Sure,” Serenity nodded, concealing the doubt in her tone.

  Destiny would naturally be biased; they were courting each other.

  “But don’t you think it’s strange that somebody managed to break in?”

  “It’s certainly uncommon,” Sixto said. “Whoever they were must’ve been professionals. Either that or our security was lax that night.”

  “There’s a rumor that the guards patrolling the perimeter were drunk,” Lyla shared dully. It wasn’t often that she joined in their conversations.

  “Where did you hear that rumor?” Destiny scoffed, amused.

  “Just around,” Lyla shrugged ambiguously.

  “Probably from Bastion, while stalking him in the barracks,” Sixto teased.

  Expectedly, Lyla blushed and covered her face with her sleeves. Lyla had to have regretted making her infatuation with Bastion so obvious. Such intimate things were better left clandestine, encased in secrecy where nobody could find it.

  “Dorian says he’ll summon me again after dinner,” said Serenity, changing the subject for Lyla’s sake. “Should I be worried?”

  “I dunno, should you?” Destiny said stiffly. “Got anything to hide?”

  “No, but—”

  “Calm down, he probably just wants to vindicate you once and for all,” said Sixto unworriedly. “I’ll come with you just to ease your nerves.”

  “Thanks,” Serenity mumbled.

  Dorian ordered her to accompany him after a succulent dinner. And as promised, Sixto chose to accompany her. Dorian noticed him and stopped in his tracks, quirking his eyebrows in thought.

  “You’re not going to tell me I’m not allowed, are you?” Sixto sighed.

  “Before I start equivocating, I’ll give you a definite answer,” said Dorian frankly. “You’re not allowed. Sorry, Sixto.”

  Sixto acquiesced, shaking his head in dismay.

  “Sorry, Serenity, you heard him,” he said.

  “It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” Serenity acknowledged.

  She followed Dorian out of the Dining Hall. Alistair joined them shortly, accompanied by three other Council members. One of them was the eyepatch man. She didn’t ask where they were going, feeling it wasn’t in her place to question them. This was the time to be silent and tractable, obeying every command without protest or even a scintilla of reluctance.

  Dorian led the way, stepping out into the chilly night. It was getting colder as the month progressed. After all, it was wintertime. Lily had mentioned snow usually arrived around mid-December, just before Christmas. At the coldest peak, the tree branches would be suspending frozen icicles, and the leaves, buildings, and ground would look as if they were “sprinkled with salt.” The image appeared aesthetically pleasing when she imagined it, reminiscent of Christmas. But the experience of enduring bitter cold was never enjoyable.

  They journeyed away from the main house and past the courtyard. Serenity realized where they were going right before their arrival. The route they were taking was identical to the path to the barn. Were they going to the farm? It seemed strange in her head, and she eventually realized it was. Their destination was not the farm-—it was the jailhouse.

  That’s right, she thought. They must be locked up here. But she couldn’t determine what the prisoners had to do with her. The guards let them in without question. The presence of Councilmen was enough to grant them entry. They entered a large room, which looked like a lounge area for the guards. There were tables, chairs, and furniture occupied by guards playing cards, eating dinner, and drinking merrily. The Councilmen set one foot into the room, and all guards zoomed to their feet in alarm, standing tall and erect.

  “Shouldn’t you all be doing your job?” the eyepatch man reproached.

  “Apologies, sir!” a guard with a deck of cards exclaimed. “We were having our break! Everything is in order; our security is still impeccable!”

  “As it should be,” Dorian said, leading the way to the closed door directly across from them. “There’s only one entrance leading to the cells and one entrance leading out of the jailhouses. Right in this room.”

  A guard stepped forward with jangling keys, unlocking the door. The door opened, revealing a spiral staircase leading underground to a basement. The cells were down below, and the only way out of the jailhouse would be to come through this door. Thankfully, the walls were lit with torches down the staircase. Serenity descended with the others, surprised at how cold it was. Her nerves kicked in, waiting in anticipation for what was awaiting her shortly.

  “Are we going to meet the people who broke in?” Serenity asked.

  “Very perceptive of you,” said the eyepatch man sardonically.

  “But what does this have to do with me?”

  “You’ll find out in approximately twenty to thirty seconds,” said Dorian. “And don’t be too shocked, all right?”

  “Okay…” Serenity said apprehensively.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the cellblock. A very small cell block. It was a narrow, long room with twelve cells on each side. Furthermore, it was filthy. The setting here was completely antithetical to the houses in residence. It was dirty, decrepit, neglected, and smelled awful. She saw what looked like moss or algae pasted onto the walls, and the stone floor was a brownish-green color. Dorian immediately held a handkerchief to his nose and refrained from touching anything. This place must’ve been a horror house for him, considering how immaculate of a person he was.

  Overall, the jailhouse was in desperate need of refurbishment. But then again, it
was a jailhouse. The conditions weren’t supposed to be hospitable.

  Only three of the twenty-four cells were occupied. One cell held a tatterdemalion man that was dead asleep on an ancient cot. He was nearly bald, and his clothes were filthy. Another cell held a shirtless man who looked like a war criminal. He was physically built, and his torso was heavily scarred. The man glared at them silently, sitting against the wall calmly and carefully.

  However, it was who occupied the third cell, at the second right, that caught her attention on an astronomical scale. These occupants were unquestionably the reason she was here—the reason she was being investigated and suspected of treachery.

  These occupants held an extensive history with her: Kyler and Desmos Carlisle.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Was it shock? Emptiness? Maybe disappointment or relief? Not a clue. But her face definitely displayed a tempestuous cyclone of emotions. She was rendered speechless as she gazed down rigidly at Kyler and Desmos, both seated against the wall. Kyler, who was naturally a stolid person, was appreciably surprised—no, relieved—at seeing her. His eyes widened slightly, and his mouth opened, but he kept taciturn and calm. Both of them looked relatively healthy, just a few scratches and bruises here and there. The Councilmen allowed the tense silence to continue for a few moments, before finally interrupting it.

  “Serenity?” Alistair said gingerly. “Are you all right?”

  She didn’t answer, staring at the both of them quietly.

  Desmos was the first to speak out of the two of them. But his tone wasn’t welcoming or friendly. It was suspicious.

  “I see you’re doing well, Serenity,” he said. “Clearly not here with us.”

  “Let’s get down to business,” said the eyepatch man sharply. “You two haven’t said much since your arrival. Spit it out; where are your accomplices? Reveal their hiding places!”

  “Like I keep telling you, it was just us,” Desmos said acidly.