The night was still dark, only a few torches installed on the wooden fences flickered. Two bandits were guarding at the entrance, sitting on wooden chairs and a rough-hewn table of the same material before them. One of them was asleep, slouched over, while the other quietly checked sharpness of his blade.
Not more than two meters from them, a small fire crackled, skewered pieces of meat roasting over the flames, The smell of sizzling meat reached Arat perking up his ears. Sitting up, his gaze fixed on the meat, the aroma making his stomach growl in hunger. With his night vision, he could see that most of the others were asleep, except for a few who lay down, their eyes squeezed shut in a futile attempt to rest.
It's not easy to sleep with an empty stomach, Arat thought to himself. I'm living proof of that.
His mouth watered as he imagined how the meat would taste, but reality quickly pulled him back, his leg was wounded, his hands were tied by a rope and he hadn't eaten for sometime. He had to quickly find something to close his wound before dying of blood loss.
Scanning the area to see if anyone had some anything useful he could use, Arat only discovered dirt smeared cloth on the men, it made sense to strip them of anything so that they wouldn't use it to escape in his mind. He then took a look at his wound and saw that it was not in a good condition, he clearly felt that he got weaker due to the continuous bleeding.
Arat slowly crawled at the man next to him, he had soft brown hair, a rather big nose and obvious puffs under his closed eyes. Arat extended his hand toward him to gently wake him up.
I should ask this guy if he knows how I can escape, I won't live long if I stay here like this.
Arat's hand was stopped midair by the quick reflexes of a man beside him. The man, who moments earlier seemed to be sleeping, was now wide awake, gripping Arat's hand with surprising strength. Arat was taken aback he hadn't expected the man to be awake, let alone react so quickly.
The man sat up, refusing to let go of Arat's hand. The other man, who was closest to Arat which had brown hair woke up, upon seeing that the man next to him held Arat's long blood stained nails near his body, panic set in. Jolting fully awake, he scrambled backward on the ground, desperate to put distance between himself and the "devil child." Arat's attention shifted away from the terrified man. Instead, he focused on the one who had caught his hand.
"What did you wanted to do?"
He asked in a low but serious voice audible only to himself, Arat and the brown haired man. His grayish green eyes, sharp and focused, contrasted with his mild facial features his long nose, thin eyebrows, and a well-groomed Van Dyke beard that matching his blond of his hair which was shorter on the sides.
Arat observed the man's face and arm that held his hand, knowing from instinct he felt the fighting spirit inside him but nothing like those hunters or that female knight, he had no intention of taking Arat's life.
"I wanted him to tell me how to escape from here."
The man's eyebrows rose up, he glanced at the iron mask and the shiny green eyes behind them, he shifted his gaze towards Arat's wounded leg, the bandaged have been soaked in black blood that had flowed down from his calf all the way to his shoes, staining the dirt beneath him.
"You wanna run away with that?"
Arat followed the man's gaze and realized he was staring at his injured leg, silently implying that escape was impossible in his condition. Arat knew the man was right, he'd be lucky to even stand, let alone run. But the overwhelming desire to get out of here made him forget that, being suddenly stabbed by the bandit's leader had already terrified him on what they might do to him next.
Steeling himself, Arat's eyes filled with a newfound courage and determination. The muscles on Arat's arm bulged noticeably, drawing the man's attention. For a brief moment, the man's calm expression faltered, his eyes widening in surprise, relying n sheer strength Arat easily twisted his arm and freed it from the man's firm grip.
"I'm still working on it."
"Enough Fernand, the others will notice."
The brown haired man whispered to the bearded man.
The man's grayish green eyes returned to their calm state, He raised his hand slowly, signaling the brown-haired man to stay out of the conversation. His short, stylish beard framed his composed expression, giving him an air of quiet confidence, not worrying about what the others thought.
"And how do you exactly want to do that? What after you close it up? it won't help you escape."
Arat thought about it. He observed the ropes around his wrists and his leg, bringing his head back up to look at the man. The man kept his calm, noticing that the others were silently listening.
He is right even if I close it up, it will still needs some time to heal.
"You should first free yourself from these ropes."
The man brought up his own bound hands showing the ropes that kept his wrists tightly bound together.
" Only after that, you can think about escaping."
Arat couldn't respond right away. All he could do was stare back at the man in silence. His gaze dropped to the dirt on the ground and with a heavy sigh, he rested his head on the ground, pretending to sleep as the guards began eating their meal.
The brown haired man and Fernand, observed him for a few minutes, but seeing no movement or response, they eventually returned to their own rest. One of the guards noticing some movement grabbed his spear in one hand an a torch in the other.
He approached the fences and carefully observed for any movements, he waved the torch close to the ground, trying to illuminate the shadows, and after deciding there was nothing out of place, he returned to his meal, gnawing on his roasted meat.
Despite his exhaustion, Arat couldn't close his eyes. Hunger gnawed at his insides, and the pain from his bleeding wound kept him awake. He began working at the knot binding his hands, moving his arms, curling his body to hide his movements, he kept his hands close to his chest.
They will just think I'm cold and thus have curled up like this.
After grappling with the tight knot by sometime he found out that it was hopeless to untie it even with his brute force.
These are sturdy. If only I had a sharp thing to cut them a bit I might have a chance. For now I will chew on them with my teeth, I will rip them strand by strand, if an arrow in my chest two armed hunters and that monstrous female knight couldn't stop me, a rope won't even stand a chance.
Arat slightly turned his body as he remained in a sleeping position with his eyes closed, so that no one could see his face, he now faced were the guards were, but they didn't even look at were he was, and even if they did, they couldn't see much. The torches didn't provide enough light.
Once he had put his hand on the ground he saw large black ants moving on the ground. Arat used his chin and bound hands to move his mask up, just like when he wanted to eat, removing the mask on his mouth not revealing his face. Underneath two rows of sharp yellowish white teeth identical to a that of a carnivore were revealed.
As his sharp teeth sank into the rough fibers of the rope, a dry, earthy bitterness filled his mouth. The coarse strands scraped against his gums and tongue, leaving a gritty sensation that only worsened with each bite. The rope tasted of dirt and dust, with a faint sourness that made his stomach turn.
Splinters of fiber stuck between his teeth, every bite sent a wave of discomfort through him, his mouth growing raw from the constant friction. The rope was tough, its taste lingering like a sour memory on the back of his throat.
Bit by bit, pulling the strands loose using his teeth, and then playing with them to rip them apart. Arat chewed enough that he could just tear it by just simply separating his wrists from each other, all this only took him about an hour and a half.
if the rope didn't taste that terrible I could have finished it in an hour.