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Then, in the final cell, I spot a silhouette, on his knees with his wrists chained overhead to the wall. My heart stops as I step closer, a sconce on the wall igniting nearby to illuminate the figure.
“Dad!” I cry out.
He doesn’t respond. Panic reaches its measly claws at me as I fumble to pick the lock on the cell, but I won’t let it have me.
When the lock clicks, I kick the cell door open. It bangs against the concrete wall, its ear-ringing clatter waking my father as he squirms in alarm.
“Ah! No, please!” he yells.
“Dad, it’s me!” I exclaim, grabbing his gaunt face. “It’s me, Hanna!”
The fear on his face slowly melts away, replaced with fervent shock as he blinks in disbelief.
“Hanna? Is that you? It can’t be…”
I pull his head close, resting it on my shoulder as he begins sobbing. I cry with him, my tears running down my face and landing on his unkempt hair.
His howls are heartbreaking to listen to, a little piece of me withering away with each pained cry.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” he tells me in short bursts of breath.
He tries to speak coherently but fails as I squeeze him tighter.
“You can cry, it’s alright,” I say through my own sobs. “I’m here, Dad, I’m not going anywhere.”
I can’t help but notice how weak he feels in my arms. He has lost weight, a clear sign that Zathex was underfeeding him. From the looks of the food bowls on the floor, my father seemed to have been treated like a wild animal.
He smells as though he has not washed in weeks, though I know it is not the fault of his own. Dirt stains his body, as well as dark, hardened spots of blood.
Bruises sit along his arms and ribcage. I hear him wheeze in pain with every breath he draws.
His prickly stubble rubs against the skin of my arms, irritating me but I don’t care. He is beaten up badly, but I’m glad he’s alive.
I undo the cuffs chaining his wrists to the wall with my dagger. He falls into my arms, his weakened body a far contrast from the strong gardener I’d come to know.
“You came back for me,” he says. “I can’t believe it.”
“Dad, if you’re mad at me for disappearing, I understand,” I reply, my voice coated with shame.
“How could I be mad at you? The thought of my dearest daughter was the only thing that’s kept me alive this entire time.”
We nestle into each other’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry I took so long,” I whisper, stroking his head.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, pulling back. “But Hanna, what happened? Zathex came to me and said you abandoned training. I don’t believe the asshole, so tell me your side of the story.”
As I tell him the story, I clean the dirt from his body using whatever cloth I have on me.
“He tried to coerce me into a relationship with him and I said no. He took that personally and tried to have me enslaved and sold off, but I used my training to escape.”
“Clever girl,” he says, smiling proudly. “But where did you escape to? New Solas is crawling with more of his kind.”
“Well… I ran away to Ikoth.”
“Ikoth!”
“Yes, with a demon by the name of Kazrith.”
