Chapter 2 - Sable
For two days and three nights, Sable examined every inch of her cell. Whenever the guards took their eyes off her, she felt the floor and the walls. She was looking for something—anything; a crack in the floor, a little gap in the wall.
Nothing. The floor and wall were worn and old, but well constructed. And every time she came close to the cell door, the guards would focus their attention on her. There was no way for her to tamper with the door without being watched.
On the third night, Sable sat in the corner, her body tired and her mind dulled, but she had not given up. Dozens of ideas raced though her mind, but nothing seemed to work; without her magic, it would be impossible to do anything unnoticed—let alone break apart the solid stone wall.
She had been waiting for the guards to give her a clue—any bit of information would be helpful. Why was she kept here? Where exactly was she? But when she tried to talk to them, they never answered her.
Instead of answering her questions or even making eye contact, the guards paced up and down the stone corridor, exchanging hushed whispers, impatiently waiting for their shift to end.
Sable closed her eyes and just as she was about to drift off to sleep for her third night, did an explosive sound wake her. The explosion shook the walls of her cell and ricocheted violently through the corridors; Sable could feel the incredible power vibrate through her bones.
There was the sound metal clashing and chilling cries of anguish that were usually drowned out on the battlefield but were amplified by the tight walls. There was another explosion and a wave of heat blasted through the stone corridor and there was the sound of groaning metal. Then silence.
Sable jumped to her feet and clutched the bars of the cell door. What! What could be it be? Her heart beat wildly with hope and nervousness. Had another prisoner escaped?
In the darkness of the corridor, she could hear the patter of urgent footsteps. Not the heavy footsteps of armored nights—no, light footsteps.
The footsteps grew louder.
“Help!” Sable cried. “Help!”
The footsteps grew louder in the darkness until—
A fellow witch. Sable immediately knew that this was not a normal woman. Her fiery red locks glowed in the amber light of the torches, her blue eyes wild and gleaming with a whirlwind of panic and fear.
The witch looked left and right, then put her hands on the cell door.
“These are old and rusty, I think I can break them with my magic,” she said.
The witch closed her eyes and her brows arched like steep hills. She bit her lower lip and let out a low moan. Her hands began to glow with a deep orange color, but the metal bars stayed intact.
She is weak, Sable thought. The previous two explosions must have drained her magic and now she doesn’t have enough power left.
“What is happening? Why are they keeping us in this prison?” Sable asked.
The witch’s eyes ripped open. Startled, Sable inched back.
“They will kill us! We have to break out! They will rip our magic out!”
The witch returned her focus on the bars.
“I need to hurry...hurry, or they will come, they will— “
She never finished the sentence. An outraged voice roared through the corridor. “Word of Light! What happened here?”
The witch’s hands stopped glowing. She let go of the cell door bars. She turned away from Sable. “I—I’m sorry,” she croaked. “There isn’t enough time, I have to— “
“Wait—! “ Sable cried, but the witch darted off.
Sable’s heart grew cold. She had been so glad to see one of her own kind down here, the first person she had truly spoken two in days—and now, she had been abandoned.
“After her!” the outraged voice commanded and Sable could hear heavy footsteps. Reinforcements.
Sable drew a sharp breath. She had an idea.
The desperate sound of the witch running grew more distant while the footsteps of the guards grew closer. Just a little longer...they are almost there—now!
“Stop!” Sable cried when the guards passed by her cell. “Stop! She has placed traps! You will die if you go any further!”
The guards stopped. They exchanged nervous looks with each other, unsure of what to do.
“Officer Reinhard,” one of them called out, “what should we do?”
A tall man with broad shoulders and clad in heavy steel armor stepped before Sable’s cell. He eyed her with suspicion and his lips curled with contempt. “Listen to the witch,” he ordered and Sable breathed out with relief. The man smiled maliciously. “Crossbows forward!”
“No!” Sable cried.
Officer Reinhard gave the order. “Shoot her legs!”
The crossbowmen knelled on the ground and pulled the trigger. The arrows whizzed through the darkness of the corridor and—
The sound of footsteps of the witch stopped. Sable heard a body collapse to the ground.
Officer Reinhard licked his lips and nodded with satisfaction. “Take her and feed her to the Champion of Light before she bleeds out.”
Then he turned to Sable and smiled with sardonic amusement. His teeth flashed. “And as for you, you lying witch, your appointment will come soon.”
A/N: Good morning! Or good afternoon? Or good evening. The Internet has no timezone, does it? Thanks so much for reading chapter 2.