Chereads / Whispers of Unity / Chapter 12 - A storm is brewing

Chapter 12 - A storm is brewing

 

The stench of mold and stagnant water clung to the stone walls like a second skin, the air thick with the promise of decay. Captain Thane's boots squished against the slick floor as he paced the confines of their cell, his brow furrowed in contemplation. A single drop of water landed on his cheek, prompting him to glance up at the ceiling where moisture wept from the stones.

 

"Remarkable," he muttered, more to himself than to his fellow captives. "With all this water seeping through, I'm astonished the whole structure doesn't simply disintegrate come storm season."

 

Elara remained still, her back pressed against the cold wall, listening to the perpetual drip of water that served as an ominous metronome. The rhythmic sound, usually soothing, now seemed to echo the tick of a clock counting down their final hours. She watched Thane, noting the way his soldier's mind worked, assessing vulnerabilities even in moments of defeat.

 

"Perhaps it will," Lyanna responded, her voice carrying a softness that contradicted the steel within. She moved closer to the bars separating their cells, her caramel eyes reflecting the dim torchlight. "If we can persuade the guards to underestimate us, we could use that to our advantage."

 

"Sweet talk and sympathy won't loosen these chains," Thane scoffed, though not unkindly. His gaze shifted between Elara and Lyanna, weighing options. "A more direct approach might serve us better. We rush them—confuse and overpower. It's worked in battle before."

 

"Perhaps," Elara interjected, tilting her head to regard each of them. "But do you really expect a soft royal to charge a guard, she might break a nail" Her words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in logic.

 

Lyanna's lips parted, ready to debate, but she caught herself. Instead, she studied Elara, looking for the hint of a plan.

 

"Then what do you suggest?" Thane asked, his tone matching the seriousness of their plight.

 

"Timing, Captain. Timing and the elements." Elara's fingers brushed against the damp stone beside her. "This place may stand strong against flesh and blood, but against nature's wrath? That is a battle it cannot win."

 

Thane frowned, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered her words. His thoughts were a fortress; every strategy and countermeasure meticulously arranged behind stoic brown eyes.

 

"Nature's wrath..." he echoed thoughtfully. "You witches and your cryptic ways. Fine, let's hear it then. What does that mean for us?"

 

"Patience, Captain," Elara said with a smirk. "I've tried countless times to break out of here, but I never thought to literally break out." Her heart thrummed with the knowledge that soon, very soon, they would need to be as relentless and unpredictable as an autumn tempest itself.

 

Lyanna nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. She turned her gaze to Thane, waiting for the moment he too would see the wisdom in their unconventional alliance.

 

"Until then," Elara continued, her voice dropping to a sinister whisper, "we play the parts fate has cast for us."

 

"Let's just hope the curtain call isn't our own execution," Thane replied dryly, his unease with their situation simmering beneath a veneer of control.

 

"Storms are fickle, Captain," Elara mused, "but they also cleanse. And sometimes, that's exactly what's needed to start anew."

 

The days blurred together in the dungeon, the air heavy and oppressive against Elara's skin. The smell of damp stone mixed with the metallic scent of her own blood, dried on her skin. She strained to peer through the narrow window near the ceiling, feeling aches in her bones that foretold an approaching storm. Dark clouds gathered outside, mirroring the ominous thoughts swirling in her mind.

 

"Storm's coming," she murmured, more to herself than to her cellmates. Elara's fingertips traced the cold, wet stones that made up their prison, feeling for the pulse of the earth beyond. Her magic, a dormant serpent coiled within, flickered at her command, sensing the elemental charge in the air.

 

"Perfect," she whispered, a plan unfurling in her mind like a shadow at dusk.

 

"Perfect?" Thane's voice grated from the next cell, skepticism lacing his tone like poison. "What's perfect about a storm when we're stuck in a hole that reeks of despair?"

 

"Because, Captain," Elara said, turning to face him, her eyes alight with a defiant spark. "That storm is our ticket out of here." She watched him closely, gauging his reaction. His jaw clenched, muscles twitched—an involuntary betrayal of his concern.

 

"Your magic..." Thane began, his words halting as if they were foreign to his tongue. "Can I trust it? Can I trust you?"

 

"Trust?" Elara snorted with mirthless laughter. "You don't need to trust me or my magic. You just need to trust your desire to live."

 

She saw him ponder this, his gaze flitting between her and Lyanna, who sat quietly, her presence a silent support to Elara's confidence.

 

"Fine," he finally conceded, the word expelled like the release of a drawn bowstring. "What do you need from us?"

 

"When the time is right, I will need you to take these iron cuffs off of me," she replied, a wry grin dancing upon her lips. "When the storm hits its peak, I'll channel its fury into the walls. Weakened by water and assaulted by power, they will crumble."

 

"Will that not attract attention?" he asked, a frown creasing his brow.

 

Elara's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and fear as she gazed out the window. The storm was her ally, providing the perfect cover for their plans. The timing had to be precise, and they were at the mercy of nature's whims. The tempest outside mirrored her own untamed energy - unpredictable and fierce. She turned away from Thane's penetrating gaze and closed her eyes, letting herself become one with the building force of the storm.

 

"Let's hope your witch's brew of a plan works," Thane muttered, though whether to himself or to Lyanna, Elara couldn't tell.

 

"Hope," Elara thought, "is all we have left, but rage—that is what will set us free."

 

"Get ready," she instructed, her voice barely rising above the growing roar of the wind. "When I start the spell, you must brace for impact."

 

"Waiting on a witch's word," Thane grumbled under his breath. "Never thought I'd see the day."

 

"Life is full of surprises, Captain," Elara shot back, her tone light but edged with steel. "And I'm full of them."

 

The storm roared closer, flashes of lightning splitting the sky as thunder echoed across the land. Elara felt a tingling sensation in her fingers, a sign of the powerful magic brewing inside her. She could feel its eagerness to be released. But she couldn't help but worry about her new allies, hoping they would still stand by her side after the storm subsided - or at least not abandon her to face the ruins alone.