The dungeon buzzed with the faint echoes of footsteps and the clinking of chains, but Aiden hardly noticed. His mind was consumed by the plan forming between him and Cara. Every detail, every potential flaw, played over in his head like a puzzle begging to be solved.
It wasn't enough to unlock his shackles—he needed to unlock the cell, evade the guards, and escape the castle itself.
The crack of sunlight that filtered into his cell each day had grown sharper, brighter, as if taunting him with the freedom he couldn't yet grasp. But soon, he thought. Soon, the sun would no longer be out of reach.
---
Cara returned that evening, a nervous energy clinging to her as she approached the bars. This time, she carried not just food but a small bundle wrapped in cloth.
"What's that?" Aiden asked, sitting up.
Cara glanced over her shoulder, then passed the bundle through the bars. "Tools," she said in a low voice. "A knife—small, but sharp enough to cut through the rope on the outer gate. And this."
She unwrapped the cloth, revealing a tiny vial filled with a pale green liquid.
"What is it?" Aiden asked, holding the vial up to the faint light.
"Sleeping draught," Cara explained. "The guards sometimes use it when prisoners get… unruly. It's strong enough to knock someone out for hours if you slip it into their drink."
Aiden's eyes narrowed. "How did you get this?"
Cara smirked, a rare glint of pride in her expression. "The kitchens have their secrets."
He tucked the bundle beneath his thin blanket, his mind racing. "This will help. But there's still the matter of the gate—and the guards outside it."
"I've been watching," Cara said, leaning closer to the bars. "The morning shift is the weakest. Just before dawn, the guards are half-asleep, and the rotations leave blind spots. That's when we'll move."
Aiden nodded. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of their plan pressing down on him. Failure wasn't an option—not after everything he had endured.
---
The hours dragged by, each second stretching into an eternity. Aiden sat in silence, his hands clenched into fists as he waited for the faint light of dawn to creep into his cell.
When Cara returned, it was earlier than usual. Her movements were quick and purposeful, and her expression was set with determination.
"Ready?" she whispered.
Aiden stood, rolling his wrists where the shackles had once dug into his skin. "Ready."
Cara slipped a thin piece of wire through the bars, motioning for him to take it. "This will get you out of the cell. I'll handle the rest."
Aiden knelt by the lock, his fingers steady despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through him. The wire slid into the mechanism with surprising ease, and after a few tense moments, the lock clicked open.
The door swung outward with a quiet groan. For the first time in years, Aiden stepped out of his cell, his heart pounding in his ears.
"Follow me," Cara whispered, leading him down the corridor.
---
The dungeon was eerily quiet, the torches casting long shadows along the stone walls. Cara moved with practiced precision, her footsteps barely audible as she led Aiden through the maze of corridors.
They passed several cells, their occupants stirring at the sight of movement. Aiden felt their eyes on him, their silent pleas for freedom, but he kept his focus on Cara.
"Almost there," she whispered, motioning for him to stop.
Ahead, two guards sat at a small wooden table, their heads bowed as they played a game of dice. A half-empty pitcher of ale sat between them.
Cara reached into her pocket and pulled out the vial of sleeping draught. She held it up to Aiden, her expression questioning.
He nodded.
Moving with careful precision, Cara approached the table, her footsteps masked by the guards' laughter. She poured the contents of the vial into the pitcher, then slipped back into the shadows.
They waited.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as the guards continued their game, oblivious to the danger. Finally, one of them poured another mug of ale and took a long drink.
Within moments, his movements slowed, and his head lolled forward. The second guard followed shortly after, slumping over the table with a heavy thud.
"Now," Cara hissed.
Aiden crept forward, his heart hammering in his chest. He grabbed the knife from the bundle and cut through the rope securing the next door. It swung open with a quiet creak, revealing a narrow staircase leading upward.
"This way," Cara said, tugging at his sleeve.
---
They emerged into the cool pre-dawn air, the scent of dew and earth filling Aiden's lungs. For a moment, he stopped, overwhelmed by the open sky above him.
"Don't stop now," Cara urged, pulling him toward the castle's outer gate.
The final obstacle stood before them: a massive iron gate, its bars stretching high above their heads. Two guards patrolled the area, their movements sluggish as they yawned and rubbed their eyes.
Aiden's fists clenched, his power thrumming just beneath his skin. The faint rays of sunlight on the horizon called to him, reigniting the fire he had been suppressing for so long.
"Stay here," he whispered to Cara.
Before she could protest, Aiden stepped forward, raising his hand. A small flame flickered to life in his palm, growing brighter and hotter with each step he took.
The guards froze, their eyes widening as they caught sight of him.
"What the—" one of them began, but he didn't get the chance to finish.
Aiden thrust his hand forward, sending a burst of fire toward the ground in front of them. The flames roared to life, cutting off their path and forcing them to retreat.
"Run!" Aiden shouted, grabbing Cara's hand.
Together, they sprinted through the gate, the fire blazing behind them. The guards' shouts echoed in the distance, but Aiden didn't look back.
For the first time in years, he was free.