“Are you feeling weary?” Willem inquired softly, his voice barely rising above the oppressive silence that enveloped their filthy cell. He cast a weary glance around the dimly lit space, his gaze settling on the grimy walls that bore witness to their despair. “It’s a bit unsanitary here, wouldn’t you agree?” Enyora nodded, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and resignation. “Yes, it is rather unpleasant,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I have endured worse.” Willem leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“They grant us a reprieve each day, allowing us to toil in the daylight. Perhaps we could devise our escape plan tomorrow, when the sun is high and the guards are distracted.”
A flicker of hope ignited in Enyora’s eyes as she considered his words. “Yes, tomorrow,” she agreed, her voice steady despite the uncertainty that loomed over them. She settled next to him, the warmth of his presence offering a fleeting comfort amidst their bleak surroundings. As they surrendered to the weight of fatigue, the two entwined their fingers, seeking solace in each other’s grasp. Slowly, they closed their eyes, the world around them fading into a haze of exhaustion and dreams. Yet, unbeknownst to them, a pair of luminous eyes glimmered from the shadows beyond the wall, seething with an intense hatred that pierced the darkness. The unseen watcher lingered, their malevolent gaze fixed upon the two prisoners, a silent promise of danger lurking just beyond the veil of their fragile peac
e.
In the depths of the night, when shadows enveloped the world, Willem and Enyora were abruptly roused from their restless slumber by the jarring sound of metal—a harsh clang that echoed ominously through the dungeon's cold, damp walls. The heavy door to their cell was flung open with a violent force, revealing the imposing figure of the orc who had previously dragged Enyora into this dark abyss. To his sides, two other orcs loomed menacingly, their presence amplifying the sense of dread that filled the air.
The shorter of the trio stepped forward, his grip as ironclad as his intentions. He seized Willem’s wrist with a brutal strength, attempting to wrench him away from the fragile sanctuary of his companion. But Willem, fueled by a surge of defiance and protectiveness, clung desperately to Enyora, refusing to let go. The tension in the air crackled like a storm about to break, as uncertainty and fear mingled with an unbreakable bond forged through shared trials. In that harrowing moment, the fate of both souls hung precariously in the balance, teetering on the edge of darkness.
"What is going on?!" Willem exclaimed, his voice trembling with confusion and fear, but his urgent question hung unanswered in the oppressive silence. The orcs, relentless and merciless, wrenched him from Enyora's desperate embrace, tearing apart the fragile connection that had offered them both solace in that dark, dismal place.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" Enyora cried out, her voice a mixture of panic and fury as she clasped Willem's other wrist with all her might, trying to thwart the orc's sinister intentions. Her heart raced, pounding in her chest as she fought against the inevitable.
"Please, don’t take me away! I beg you!" Willem's voice shook with raw desperation, tears spilling down his cheeks like a torrential waterfall, each droplet a testament to his terror. His pleas echoed through the dungeon, a haunting melody of sorrow that pierced the stillness. 
Yet, despite his fervent cries and Enyora’s frantic attempts to hold him back, the orc's size and brute strength rendered their efforts futile. With a cruel ease, he dragged Willem away, each step echoing ominously against the stone as Willem's desperate pleas grew fainter, swallowed by the darkness above. As he ascended the stairs, the heartbreaking sound of his cries faded into the distance, leaving Enyora alone in the suffocating silence, her heart aching with the weight of their separation.
Enyora sprang to the door, her heart racing with desperation, but before she could reach it, the other orc slammed it shut with a resounding thud that reverberated through the dungeon. Gripping the cold metal bars with a fierce determination, she cursed under her breath, "You bastard! Where are you taking him?" Her voice carried an edge of defiance, laced with fear for Willem's fate.
"The chieftain wants to see him," the orc replied flatly, his tone devoid of any empathy or concern. This orc was an anomaly among his brutish kin; his features bore an unsettling resemblance to a human. His nose was less pronounced, his eyes held a flicker of intelligence, and his teeth were surprisingly well-formed. Yet, his grey skin and balding head marked him as something other than fully human, hinting at a lineage intertwined with darker forces.
"At such an hour? Why does he want to see him now?" Enyora pressed, her voice rising with urgency, dread pooling in her stomach. The thought of the chieftain’s intentions sent chills down her spine—what horrors could await Willem in the dead of night?
"Mind your own business," the orc retorted, his demeanor cold and dismissive as he turned away, not even granting her the courtesy of a glance. 
In a surge of frustration and despair, Enyora screamed after him, "Let me go!!!" Her voice echoed through the stone corridors, a desperate plea that felt swallowed by the darkness, leaving her alone with her fears, the weight of her helplessness pressing down on her like a heavy shroud.
"Pst! Hey, girl," came a voice, low and raspy, from the shadows next to her cell. Enyora remained silent, her heart heavy as she collapsed to the cold stone floor, drawing her legs close and wrapping her arms around them in a protective embrace. 
"Are you his lover?" the voice persisted, probing gently. "He speaks of you every single night. I've grown accustomed to it." The speaker revealed himself as an old man, his appearance marked by the harsh realities of captivity, most notably his missing arm. 
When no response came, he continued, his curiosity seemingly unquenchable. "Are you still there? Have you fallen asleep?" The concern in his voice was palpable, but Enyora craved solitude more than conversation; the weight of her anxiety pressed down on her like a suffocating blanket.
Yet, he pressed on, his voice cutting through the darkness. "Do you want to know what they're going to do with that boy?" The question hung in the air, sharp and unsettling, and Enyora's heart raced, curiosity overcoming her desire for silence. 
"I've been in here for almost five years and have witnessed many things," he continued, his tone grave and knowing. "Whenever those three come down here together, it’s never for anything good." His words were laced with a weary wisdom that sent a shiver down her spine, igniting a flicker of dread in her chest. Enyora's mind raced, her thoughts swirling with the implications of his ominous warning, as she realized the gravity of the situation that awaited Willem.
"What do you mean by that?" Enyora finally ventured, her voice barely above a whisper, laden with uncertainty.
"Oh, I thought you were dead for a fleeting moment," he confessed, a hint of relief mingling with his concern. "But you must grasp the severity of the situation. The grey orcs are ruthless—they kidnap, murder, and assault humans, with a particular focus on women. That towering orc you just witnessed? He is one of my sister's progeny, and he has already surpassed the tender age of four."
A look of bewilderment crossed Enyora's face as she questioned, "How can he be so grown already? It defies logic!"