Huddled up in the corner was a boy, his short hair shooting out messily in all directions with the orange tone of a setting sun, his cool eyes set like a dark sapphire ocean. Wrapped in nothing but rags, the stone under him was better described as ice, sapping away any strength he dared muster. Even shivering seemed beyond him in this endless cold. His mind felt the same assault, stuck in this soundless dark where even the concept of time distorted.
How long had he been trapped here... Weeks? Months?
“No,” he reminded himself, his dry voice so hoarse it was near unrecognizable as his own. Falling prey to trickery wasn’t like him. Eight, that was the number of visits he had gotten, three meals and eight cups of water. “Three weeks...”
Against the corner of ice like stone Lach's eyes closed and his mind slipped, wading slowly into a murky dream.
“Lach!” a voice unmistakably his mothers called from downstairs.
“What does she want,” Lach groaned, his hand sifting through the ginger mop of hair atop his head. Ripping his eyes free of the bright screen he turned to face the open door, a sigh escaped his lips as he stood.
Sluggishly Lach made his way out, navigating easily downstairs where he came face to face with a smiling woman, in front of her was a small cake, a wax nineteen protruding from its top, “Happy Birthday! Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“O-oh, of course not,” He had completely forgotten.
“Is that game you’re making really so distracting,” she said, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Lach.
“I told you mum, it’s not a game. It’s a combination of things, mos-” He tried to explain.
“Yes, yes dear. I’m sorry.”
Lach chuckled a little, of course she wouldn’t understand, it had taken him the best part of half a year just to learn the basics. ’Thank-” He was interrupted once again. A bright light flashed and the scene changed in an instant. Lach’s mother vanishing only to be replaced by a tree, his house gone swapped with open air.
“What...” Lach’s voice trailed off as his eyes searched around the new sign, nothing but confusion radiated from the boy. The sensation of grass tickled at Lach’s feet, wind flowing across his suddenly exposed body...
A smash brought Lach to attention, jerking him out of his less than peaceful sleep and back into the truthful darkness. Sounds of shouting and screams filtered through his ears, but Lach was undisturbed - or it is better to say Lach didn’t have the energy to worry about such things.
He had woken up naked in a field within a world that was so very unlike his own, he remembered the winged silhouette of a flying reptile in the distance, he remembered confusion... It had only taken a day for his capture, Lach had only lasted a day.
Unlike his best guess four was the true number of weeks which made up his capture. In truth capture might have been to his luck, even the terrible conditions within his where far better then the cruel whims of nature, he was fed, clothed (if only barely), and given a place mostly outside of the elements. But even so Lach could only feel a simmering anger towards the people who had subjected him to this.
They seemed to believe he was a spy for another nation, Lach didn’t even know which nation he was in let alone what other nations there where. Foolishly he had told them as such in their first interrogation, that had only served to anger his captors.
"Why me... What did I do?" Lach mumbled his self pity, locked within his sadness the boy still ignored the almost battle like sounds coming from outside. Battle like... His mind perked up at the thought, slugging through hunger, dehydration, and a lack of sleep. Listening more intently he picked up the sound of metal on metal, shouted orders, and the angered yells of rioting captives.
It was a prison riot?
Forcing his aching, frozen muscles into action Lach pushed himself to the closed door and onto his feet. Almost tripping he caught himself on the solid wooden door, feeling around he found the slit at eye level a sliding chunk of wood rested on the opposite side. The chunk of wood blocked light from entering, but it would be a simple to slide it across. Doubt enter his mind and he hesitated, they would flog him for even touching it.
Breaking through this hesitation Lach made his choice, sliding open the eye slit and peering through into the stone corridor. Light stung his eyes, causing tears to grow, but there where no guards present. Oil lamps hung from the corridor's ceiling, their flickering flames illuminating the area easily.
Willing his voice to the surface Lach called out, "HELP! PLEASE! HELPPPP~!" He screamed, his dry voice harsh on even his own ears, he continued to scream for help to seemingly no end until a group of inmates round the corner. Crimson-red stained their lack-luster garments and skin, it was the unmistakable sight of blood. In their hands where stole swords, pickaxes, and even chains, whatever weapons they could find. There was only nine members of the group, but one clearly loomed over the others with his bulging muscles, and bold head. In his hands was a sword and shield, both splattered with blood. He shouted some commands to the group and then approached the door to see Lach.
Two men accompanied him while the others made moves outside Lach's vision.
Unlike Lach who held eyes of terror this man's eyes seemed to induce terror, as if he was a demon incarnate with a gaze of blazing fury. If Lack's eyes where a turbulent sapphire sea filled with nothing but fear, then this man's eyes where red hot steel filled with nothing but anger.
"Sell yourself boy, ten seconds," his words where direct, and in conflict with his expression oddly clam.
Lach couldn't help thinking of it like the silent calm before a storm. Sell himself, this man wanted to know Lach's use, he was a prisoner and the leader of murderous a group, he wouldn't save someone for no gain. He took a second to think, and then another, and another, soon five seconds past and Lach spoke:
"My name is Lach, I know magic. It is currently sealed, but once we escape I'm sure it will come in handy for you." It was a lie, Lach had no magic knowledge or any clue how it worked, but his captors hadn't been content with just that. Raising his hand to the door's eye slit Lach revealed the metal band attached to his wrist, it was something akin to a watch with a strange symbol replacing the clock face. Supposedly it disable magic.
The escape's leader's eyes remained unchanged, but his mouth moved just a touch, "My name is Hearth, you will listen to every thing I say or you will be left behind. Open it."
A flush of relief watched over Lach, but his troubles where hardly over. Nodding he took a step away from the door. The sound of softly clinking metal continued for a moment until the solid door open outwards, displaying Lach his freedom.
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