(CHRIS' POV)
I wake up feeling a cold, hard surface beneath me, a far cry from the softness of the inn's bed. My head feels heavy, like it's stuffed with cotton, and it takes me a moment to register that something's terribly wrong. I open my eyes slowly, expecting to see the familiar wooden ceiling of the inn, but instead, I'm greeted by darkness. Panic wells up in my chest as I push myself up to a sitting position. The ground beneath me is rough and unyielding—stone. My fingers trace the floor, confirming the gritty texture that tells me I'm not in the inn anymore.
When I finally manage to get to my feet, a chill runs through me, not just from the cold but from the realization that I'm in an entirely unfamiliar place. The air is damp and smells musty, like old iron and mildew. I look around frantically, squinting in the dim light. There's barely any illumination except for a faint, flickering glow coming from somewhere outside a set of steel bars. Bars that I'm standing behind.
No. This can't be happening. My heart hammers in my chest as the truth sinks in—I'm locked in a cell. My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, I feel like I might suffocate under the weight of this revelation. Why am I here? What happened while I was asleep?
"Help me!" I scream, my voice hoarse and panicked. I lunge towards the steel bars, gripping them with all my might. "Why am I here? I didn't do anything bad!" My fingers curl around the cold, unyielding metal, shaking them in a desperate attempt to break free. But the bars don't budge, and my cries echo off the stone walls, returning to me in a haunting mockery.
Silence follows my outburst, a suffocating silence that presses down on me from all sides. I feel my throat tighten, and tears prick at the corners of my eyes. What is going on? Where am I? My mind races through a thousand possibilities, none of which make any sense. I remember going to bed at the inn, drifting off with the sound of Will's voice in my head. How did I end up here?
A movement catches my eye, and my gaze snaps to the dark corridor beyond the cell. A figure emerges from the shadows, his footsteps slow and deliberate. My heart skips a beat as he steps into the dim light, revealing his face. He looks to be in his late thirties, with blonde hair and brown eyes that seem almost too cheerful for this grim setting. His lips curl into a smile, a warm, disarming expression that seems completely out of place.
"So you're awake now, little miss," he says, his voice smooth and pleasant, like he's greeting an old friend rather than a prisoner. "Sorry for suddenly dragging you here. You must be confused." He pauses, as if giving me time to process his words, though they only serve to deepen my confusion.
"Why are you here, right?" He continues, tilting his head slightly to one side. "Don't worry; when your father comes, you will be set free, so just wait there patiently, okay?"
My mind reels at his words. Father? Why does he think my father will come for me? And how does he know who I am? My mouth opens and closes, struggling to form words, but I manage to force out a question.
"Father?" I ask, my voice trembling. "What do you mean?"
He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Eh? You're not his daughter?" He frowns slightly, as if genuinely puzzled by my response. "But someone clearly saw you with them."
A chill runs down my spine. Is he talking about Uncle William? I swallow hard, my throat dry. "Are you referring to Uncle William?" I ask cautiously, trying to keep my voice steady.
The man's eyes light up with recognition. "Ah! Yeah, yeah, that's him, the blue-haired magician, right?" He says this with a note of enthusiasm, like we're sharing some kind of inside joke.
Relief floods through me at the mention of Uncle William, but it's quickly replaced by a fresh wave of fear. Why would someone kidnap me because of Uncle William? What's going on here? I need answers.
"Yeah, that's Uncle William," I reply, my voice firmer now. "But what did he do to you? Did he do something bad, so you kidnapped me?" I ask, my tone rising with a mix of indignation and worry. "Maybe you mistook him for someone else because Uncle William wouldn't do anything bad."
The man's cheerful demeanor falters for a moment, his smile fading into something more somber. He lets out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. "No, he didn't do anything wrong," he admits, his voice softening.
"On the contrary, We're the one in the wrong here but I can't do anything about it, my employee was stubborn after all." His eyes meet mine, and for a fleeting second, I see genuine remorse there, a glimmer of something human.
Before I can process what he means by that, another figure emerges from the darkness. This one is younger, perhaps in his late adolescence, with dark hair and eyes that seem to pierce through the shadows. His face is serious, almost cold, a stark contrast to the blond man's earlier friendliness. He stops just outside the cell, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It's my time to watch the hostage," he says flatly, his voice carrying a tone of finality. "Take your break now."
The blonde man straightens up, glancing at him with a sheepish grin. "Oh! It's that time already?" He turns back to me, his expression softening.
"Little miss, it seems like I have to go now." His voice drops to a whisper, as if sharing a secret. "Just wait until your uncle comes and takes you, and don't make any noise." He glances towards the dark-haired man, lowering his voice even more. "This guy here is hotheaded, so be careful."
The dark-haired man's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a sneer. "Did you really think I wouldn't hear that?" His voice is laced with venom, a dangerous edge that sends a shiver down my spine. "Get out of here now, or I'll kill you."
The blonde man raises his hands in a placating gesture, chuckling nervously. "Sorry, sorry, haha." He glances back at me, offering one last piece of advice.
"Don't forget to clean that room too after her uncle takes her." He winks at me, as if trying to lighten the mood. "I already finished cleaning the next room, so it's your turn now, haha."
With that, he turns on his heel and disappears into the darkness of the corridor, his footsteps fading away until the only sound left is the steady drip of water somewhere in the distance. The dark-haired man watches him go, his expression one of thinly veiled irritation.
"Tsk, that Conrad really pisses me off," he mumbles under his breath, his gaze shifting back to me. His eyes are cold and unfeeling, a far cry from the false warmth that Conrad had displayed. I take a step back, my heart pounding in my chest.
After that, he looked at me, his gaze sharp and unwavering. It was like staring into the eyes of a predator, cold and devoid of sympathy.
"If you're thinking that I'm like that guy," he began, his voice a low growl, "then get that out of your mind. We're not the same." He took a step closer, his presence imposing. "I won't talk to you as if we're friends. Don't forget that you're the hostage and we're the kidnappers."
I felt a shiver run down my spine. The way he spoke, so matter-of-factly, sent a clear message. I wasn't a person to him—I was just a bargaining chip. His expression didn't soften for a moment, and I found myself shrinking under his intense gaze.
"Did you get it?" he asked, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
"Yeah," I managed to answer, my voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes narrowed slightly, as if scrutinizing my every movement for signs of defiance. "Don't make any noise, or I'll kill you," he said, his tone as serious as a grave.
I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. The threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My earlier conversation with Mister Conrad had almost made me forget the dire situation I was in, but this man's words brought the reality crashing back down. I was a prisoner.
I let out a shaky breath and sank to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest. The damp, cold floor pressed against my legs, but I barely noticed. My mind was spinning, thoughts swirling in a chaotic whirlwind. What did Uncle William do to make these guys go to such lengths as to kidnap me? It didn't make sense. Uncle William was kind, someone who wouldn't hurt a fly. Was this a case of mistaken identity? Or maybe it was a grudge against him, a vendetta that I had somehow become entangled in.
What if Uncle William comes and gets hurt because of me? What if Will fights them and gets hurt again? Images of their bruised and battered forms flashed through my mind, making my stomach churn with anxiety. I couldn't be the reason for them to get hurt. I had to do something. I had to find a way to escape.
But even as I told myself that, a sinking feeling settled in my gut. How could I escape? The steel bars were thick and unyielding, and the dark corridor outside the cell stretched into an unknown, shadowy abyss. The only person around was the dark-haired man standing guard, his eyes constantly flicking towards me as if daring me to make a move.
I bit my lip, a wave of helplessness washing over me. I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't just sit here and wait for something bad to happen. As I was mulling over my options, I suddenly realized something. I hadn't peed since morning. The realization hit me like a brick, and now that I was thinking about it, the urge became unbearable.
I glanced at the dark-haired man, hesitating. I didn't want to talk to him, but I didn't have much of a choice. Swallowing my fear, I spoke up. "Mister, I need to pee."
He looked at me with a mix of annoyance and disbelief. "Huh? Why do you need to tell me? Just do it there," he said, gesturing vaguely towards the corner of the cell.
A pang of indignation flared up inside me. I wasn't some animal. "But you will clean this room after I am released, right?" I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. "Do you want to clean my pee too?"
His eye twitched, and he let out an exasperated sigh. "Tsk, hurry up," he grumbled, pulling out a key from his pocket and unlocking the cell door.
The metal creaked as it swung open. He fixed me with a deadly glare. "If you ever try to escape, I will kill you," he threatened, his voice low and dangerous.
"I understand," I replied, keeping my voice as steady as I could.
He motioned for me to move, and I stepped out of the cell, my legs feeling like jelly. We walked down the dark corridor, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The air was damp and musty, and as we passed a staircase leading upward, my heart skipped a beat. Was that the way out? I forced myself to look away, not wanting to draw his attention to it.
After what felt like an eternity, we reached the end of the corridor, where a wooden door loomed before us. "That's the toilet; hurry up," he said, nodding towards the door.
"Okay," I replied, quickly slipping inside. I closed the door behind me and let out a shaky breath. I did my business as quickly as possible, my mind racing the entire time. This was my chance. If I wanted to escape, it had to be now.
I whispered the words of the spell I had been practicing, my heart thundering in my chest.
"I call an arrow of water here and now. Let the tremendous protection of water be upon the location thou seekest." I could feel the magic stirring, gathering in the air around me.
Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and screamed. "AAAAAAAAAH!" I let out a loud, piercing shriek, hoping it would be enough to lure him in.
The door burst open, and the dark-haired man rushed in, his expression twisted with rage. "What the hell are you—"
"Water arrow!" I yelled, thrusting my hands forward. Three arrows of water shot out from my palms, the force of the spell almost knocking me off balance. They flew towards him with deadly precision.
He barely had time to react. The first arrow struck his left arm, the second his left thigh, and the third hit the side of his body where a sheathed sword hung, preventing it from piercing deeper.
"AAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHH!" He let out a guttural scream, staggering backward and clutching at his wounds. His eyes were wild with pain and fury. "You fucking child! I'll fucking kill you!"
But I didn't wait to hear more. I darted past him, my heart pounding in my ears, and bolted towards the staircase. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps as I sprinted through the dark corridor, the image of the exit burning in my mind.
"This time I won't be a burden to Uncle William and Will," I whispered fiercely to myself, the determination in my voice surprising even me. "I will escape here myself and be praised by them."
With every step, the darkness around me seemed to thin, and I could almost see the light waiting at the end of this nightmare.