8: Escape;
IE. Fluff Boi Prison Break
Word Count: 2370
This didn't transfer well from my Drive, so there could be paragraphs stuck together, even though I looked for them. I don't think most of my entries will be this long, as this took several hours, but a few of them might.
I will be using this opportunity to write some stories for my dragons too! Those mentioned will be linked.
If you would prefer to read it in a document, which allows for larger and clearer text in my opinion,
here! You can also comment there if you wish, say for mentioning typos or the such (Especially tense! I've been trying to get into writing in the present rather than the past!).
The frigid jingle of chains and a dull glow of Arcane crystals are
Godbrand’s life now. Within his cell, Godbrand sits, awaiting absolution, execution, or even further persecution. The Fae opens their dull, fuchsia eyes to look about. A bath of soft light fills the cell through the bars in the door, though the source is otherwise unseen. Shifting their weight, Godbrand made himself more comfortable on his cot before stretching and yawning tiredly. Within the cell, at least, Godbrand need not bear his burdensome chains, but the crystals remain planted across the body, to sap him of his magic. Lazing dreamily, Godbrand pondered what might be for a meal this morning. The granite tomb leaves much to be desired, and food is a welcome resource from mundanely hovering chips of granite about or staring at the wall or that painting on the back of the door.
Roused from his half-sleep by the sound of fluttering and a soft clank of a tray, Godbrand shakes themselves away and took to their four feet. Walking slowly towards the door, the little Fae Godbrand quickly remembered the day and a wave of excitement found him. It was his shift today,
Achaius. From behind the door, a soft, muted voice spoke, “Step back Godbrand.” Even if Godbrand had not been cursed to obey, he would have. The prisoner took a few paces back and sat on his haunches, fins raising and falling in some anticipation as the three locks on the outside of the door were undone and the braced, wooden door opened outward. Past the barrier sat another Fae, wrapped in an azureus cloak and crystals of his own. Though they weren’t slowly killing him.
Godbrand’s fins rise in joy as Achaius waddles in, pulling the tray of various little invertebrates behind him. Most of them are alive as well, which was better. Sitting ahead of Godbrand, Achaius hoists the tray to the prisoner. Godbrand stops the skidding tray with his fore claws and, looking down and then back to his jailer, speaks, “Thank you, Achaius,” Achaius nods, fins rising with approval as he watches. Godbrand decides to make slow work of the food, being that it would be his only entertainment for several hours and the act would keep Achaius closer for a time.
“Would you like some?” Godbrand asks Achaius kindly, but still colourfully, conveying mostly through his movement his intent.
Raising a clawed hand, Achaius shakes his head and speaks, “I am afraid not, Godbrand, I just ate,” It was true, however, that Achaius would prefer to share the food, but he was not permitted to. “Sorry,” Achaius ads, knowing that Godbrand may be disappointed.
Godbrand nods knowingly. It is hard sometimes knowing that Achaius is here to keep Godbrand confined. “How are you?” Godbrand inquires softly. This could be the only time he will be able to hear about Achaius’ day, or the clan in general, for some time. Godbrand, fins lowering in some dismay, quickly pulls a writhing mealworm into his mouth.
Achaius’ own frills fold slightly lower at the asking. Achaius simultaneously regrets and revels in this discourse, but it can be difficult to find the words in the presence of Godbrand for some reason. “I have been well, and things are well in the clan,” Achaius wants to share more, but there is a line, one that is easy to misjudge.
Godbrand lowers the head in unprecedented disappointment and whispered, “I’m sorry I asked,” Godbrand set the critter he holds back onto the tray. A few of the food items have made their way to the granite floor and begin their escape.
Achaius, surprised by the reaction of Godbrand, stands from his seated position and responds, “I should go,” He turns and, spreading his wings, takes to the air and flutters back through the door. Landing, Achaius pauses as a pang of sadness sweeps slowly through him. “What has happened to me?” Achaius wonders “I should be sorry,” he vocally murmurs before the door swings closed with a rosy spark from Achaius’ mouth, the three locks re-engaging in the process.
Within the cell, Godbrand sits alone once more. No longer hungry, Godbrand crawls dreadfully back into his bed. Godbrand vibrates with despair and the only one who can avert it is gone. “Stupid,” Godbrand insults himself before burying himself beneath the sheat. There is a tear there.
Achaius sits against the wall near the door, desiring to go speak to Godbrand, to relieve himself of the pressure behind his teeth, but alas, it cannot be. It is better to think this through, Achaius believes. It is wrong to fraternize with prisoners, he has been told, but this prisoner is Godbrand, not a number. What Godbrand has done notwithstanding, he is still a dragon. Frills drawn tightly to his back, Achaius remained static, locked in his thoughts until another takes his place.
Sleep comes only with time to Godbrand. Sleep is the one thing, Godbrand figures, that he has left to control, and even that came with challenged this morning. Unsettle and vivid, the dreams come to Godbrand. Dreams of his parents; his brother, both alive and not; of green fields and distant mountains; and of Achaius, both his mind and body. A knock on the door shakes Godbrand from his dreams. “Stand up and remain still,” the gruff, female voice orders, and Godbrand obeys per his magical bondage.
The door’s locks once more release and the barrier opens by means of claw rather than magic. On the other side stands a Wildclaw, well towering over the meager Fae Godbrand. Her iron armour shines dimly in the false noon light, eyes gleaming a fierce lemon hue. Godbrand, still discouraged, did not respond with words, but his figure speaks plainly of his pain to the Jailer
Nyura. Nyura takes three steps into the cell, reaching the center easily with her armoured, sharply taloned feet, kicks the now vacant tray slightly to the side, and speaks, “I have business elsewhere today, Prisoner, and there will be a substitute tonight to give you your meal,” Nyura then turned and waltzed from the cell, tail feathers brushing past Godbrand as she leaves. Nyura is fair, but she is no friend. At this time, Godbrand is not embittered by it. Catching the door with her tail, Nyura briskly fastened the door and its locks. “At ease,” Nyura finally releases Godbrand, and he lays down upon his bed once more.
Godbrand did not return to his dreams so easily this time. He simply lies there upon his bed, watching the painting on the door. Achaius placed it there some time ago and Godbrand finds it rather pleasant. Normally, at least. The Coatl portrayed, holding onto a branch, with the words “Hang in there!” only seems to mock Godbrand now. Maybe it was just that Godbrand feels far more discouraged than usual. There is something wrong, but Godbrand knows barely why. “I miss Achaius,” Godbrand decides. Achaius is the only friend Godbrand has.
It takes time to sleep sometimes, especially when all one has done is sleep for an entire day, but Godbrand manages. The dreams were listless now, fading in and out without consistency or clarity. Godbrand’s dreams were easily forgotten as the sound of another tray and the tapping of both small and large feet raise Godbrand from his stupour. Eyes half shut, the door unhinges and creaks open again. This time, there is no order to stand or do anything. Godbrand, in his slight confusion raises his head to look through the door. There peaking in is Nyura who whispers, “Shh,” Nyura has never done this, “Good luck you two,” Nyura speaks almost enthusiastically, which only serves to dismay Godbrand further.
Godbrand hops up quickly and jumps down to the ground, legs aching in protest as he hops to the door, “Wait, what?” Godbrand asks after Nyura quietly so as to not alert anyone, but she has already receded into the shadows. “What time is it?” Godbrand wonders to himself as he glances about outside the door. “What was she on about?” Godbrand asks himself and then he thinks, finally calling out in the dark, “Achaius!?”
Stepping forward, Achaius beckons to Godbrand, who now under orders, follows. “Wait, my chains,” Godbrand states, flabbergasted at the meeting before him. He has not been allowed out of his cell without them since his imprisonment. Godbrand’s frills waved in confusion in the cool, underground air.
Achaius casts a spark with his mouth and raises his fins, catching Godbrand’s gaze before the former speaks, “You will not need them, come with me Godbrand!” Godbrand desired nothing more than to follow. “Hurry!” Achaius ushers as he skips down the warmly lit tunnel.
Godbrand was hesitant to leave, for he has not done so in some time, and this seems quite elicit, but there was a thrill too. It is adventurous and rebellious, but also dangerous. Godbrand looks back to his cell and then to the now distant Achaius staring back, and Godbrand follows his friend. A worried chitter escapes Godbrand’s mouth as he trails behind Achaius. “You’ll get in trouble, Achaius, what are you doing?” Godbrand asks anxiously.
Achaius only turns, fins high above his head, “I do not care,” and Godbrand felt butterflies, “I am sorry, and I want you to see something.” Achaius chirped for the first time since Godbrand had met him as they spoke. As the two run, the cell falls ever farther behind them, and so do Godbrand’s worries.
Emerging into the cool evening air and a sky awash with hues, Godbrand gasps as he looks up. It has been so long since he has seen the sky. Achaius watches Godbrand for a time before interrupting softly, “Up here,” and Achaius stretches his fragile wings, fluttering quickly up the Quarry face. Godbrand spreads his own wings for flight for the first time in months. They are weak, but they should do. With some effort, and a few falters, Godbrand follows Achaius into the air.
Far above the tunnel to Godbrand’s cell, Godbrand and Achaius landed together. Giggling, Godbrand and Achaius turn to the sky once more. A sunset was nigh, and the far horizon shone with light, casting shadows upon everything, bathing all in a beautiful array of colours. Godbrand watched the sun dip down further now, and he realises what has happened. “Achaius, why?” he asked as he turned to his jailbreaker.
Achaius, watching the sunset as well, replied dully, “Because you need it,” Just to see Godbrand happy was something grand. The only time for it seems to be with Achaius.
Godbrand wasn’t sure what to say, but he speaks, “Nyura too?” Godbrand did not think Nyura would allow this, but maybe he had misjudged her. Achaius nodded. “
Minerva?” Godbrand asks hopefully. Achaius lowers his head in the negatory. “Oh.” Godbrand responds.
Achaius rose his head and fins once more, “You can go if you wish,” Godbrand lurched up, staring at Achaius, “I will not stop you,” Achaius adds.
Godbrand is astounded, but also worried and something else. “The choice should be easy,” Godbrand thought. But, it is not. “No,” Godbrand finally says, fins rigid in conviction.
Achaius glances to Godbrand in confusion, raising his claws and fins in alarm, “What do you mean?” Achaius waves his claws away from the clan, “You are free!” Achaius didn’t want Godbrand to have to suffer in that cell, to die locked away in the deepest hole the clan can find. Why did Godbrand?
Godbrand grasped Achaius’ claws in his own and replies, “I can’t see you get hurt for this,” Achaius shakes his head, frills lowering and heightening in quick order. Godbrand trills and continues, “Besides, who will I eat worms with if I can never come back?”
Achaius chokes for a moment, but he laughs excitedly, “Okay… Okay.” He manages to finally say. Though Achaius wishes freedom for Godbrand, there is a seated joy for his staying. “Shall we go,” Achaius offers as he gestures back into the Quarry, and to Godbrand’s cell.
Godbrand taps his nose to Achaius’ before responding, eliciting a small squeak from the Fae, “Sure,” Releasing Achaius’ claws from his own, Godbrand ambles his way towards the Quarry edge. Turning his head to view Achaius following, Godbrand asks, “How was your day?”
Raising his fins, Achaius finds great amusement in Godbrand’s asking, “I owe Nyura five coppers, but it is worth it,” Both fae laugh, “It has been eventful, Godbrand,” Achaius added vocally dull.
As the two Fae ramble their way back into the tunnels, a spark becomes a flame between the two. Something that has been there, but not recognized until now, and the two revel in its presence. In only a short time, Achaius and Godbrand watch each other from either side of the heavy, stone doorframe, just watching. The flame is a warmth they share now, and even something to nurture perhaps.
“Thank you, Achaius,” Godbrand says kindly. It has been the best evening he has had in a very long time.
Achaius gives a happy hum and responds, “I should thank you,” It has been the best evening he has had for a very long time.
It is the best evening they have had for a very long time.
Addendum:
A flitter of Fae boys would hop about Godbrand’s dreams this night. Though he has slept most of the day prior, he sleeps like he has never done so before now. “Achaius and Godbrand? Sounds nice,” Godbrand thinks as he finally succumbs to his rest.
The next morning comes abruptly with the thunderous knocking on the door, nearly tossing Godbrand from his cot. Unlatching the door, Nyura shoves the door open with her mass, a show of curiosity on her body and face as she watched Godbrand flail in his sheet. “Did you two have fun?” Nyura asks, clearly referring to the two Faes’ escapade last night, but also with a hint of implied euphemism lost to Godbrand.
Godbrand, gaining his bearings, sat up and turned to the raucous wildclaw and replied with mild bother, “Yes!” However, he does not quite recognize the implication forwarded by his jailer.
“Nice,” Nyura praised playfully.
Author's Note:
This turned out way longer than I had intended, but here it is! Achaius mentions owing Nyura five coppers, but that wasn't a bribe, even if it sounds like one. It was actually a bet. Nyura is a romantic, kind of, and she picked up on Achaius' and Godbrand's complication. When Achaius and she were hatching a plan, Nyura bet five coppers that Godbrand wouldn't leave. Achaius thought he would, but he is far happier that he stayed.