I moaned as I yet again spilled the Uile stew. I unintentionally had filled the vessels to the brim and now tried to walk slowly down the stairs while balancing the plate of them in my hands thrice this morning. I had lost my footing several times as the green algae seaweed spilled to the floor and onto my shoes. The seaweed was horrid and smelled like rotten fish, but it was the only vegetable the King would let us put in the prisoner's stew. With Castle Edhel-N’dor being on the cliffs of Mount Orod overlooking the deep blue sea below, fisherman would bring in barrels of the seaweed in exchange for a small price. Uile wasn’t by any means tasty, but it was food. The King decreed that it would be given to the prisoners; they were to receive nothing else. My mother had concocted a stew made with Uile and that was what they ate. During sunrise to sunset they were to receive two small meals of Uile a day.
I quickly dispersed the vessels among the rest of the prisoners and gave them their pots of water. I walked up to my last prisoner in the deep dungeon, the one I always saved for last, for I longed to hear his words of wisdom. I looked into the cell and observed he was very weak and fragile. I gently set his vessel of stew on the ledge and pushed it into the cell. He lightly stirred to the sound, and after several attempts of trying to move he finally faced me with a despondent look.
I tried my best to smile at him, but his expression was one of utter despair, a look of complete hopelessness.