The room is so dark, it is impossible to see. The only thing that indicates signs of life is the occasional sound. These are no sounds of relief or rest. These are subtle sounds of pain, howls of agony. The only thing different this time around is that we hear some distant strolling sounds coming from the outside. It seems that some people are coming down the stairs, toward the room. And from the sound of it, it seems there are three people.
Something is off. They were supposed to be two.
The metal door opened with a screeching sound. The people walk in. Two of them (soldiers, it seems) have an oil torch on them. One of them seems to be a woman. She isn't what you would call pretty. Even though the torch's flicker doesn't show much, it showed enough for her to see a dead body inside a cell.
It seems the room we were in is not your ordinary room; it is a dungeon, a prison made for the worst of criminals. We are at the desert prison of Kunduz. The prison used to be a small ancient tower with better visibility of the surroundings. People say it was once a magic tower of the ancients.
Pardon me, where was I? Ah yes, the woman. As the woman walks through the prison, perplexed by what she just witnessed, she puts her handkerchief on her face. She dismissed a scary thought and continued following the guard in front of her as the other stayed on the door. The guard leads her toward one of the cells. In that cell, there was a boy. pitiful young man. This young man was charged with the most heinous crime of them all, murder.
As soon as the woman caught sight of him, tears started to flow from her. These tears were not from pity at seeing him in this state. They were not because both of his hands were chained to the wall. Of course, they were tears of hatred—hatred toward the young man who killed her late husband. As soon as he saw the lady, he started to ramble about something. probably trying to reason with her. But alas, she was not in the mood. The woman started yelling and shouting toward the young. He made her a widow after all. He shrugged and tried with all his might, battling the heat away, but she spat on him and stormed out of the dungeon.
Other prison mates started to chuckle but didn't have the strength to continue it. Nevertheless, both the guards went following her out of the door. The door shuts, and the prison returns to its hellish peace. The kid looks at his hands with the little light he could manage to get. The chains didn't do him any good. The public beating four nights ago also wasn't of any help. But it is okay; he doesn't feel the pain at all. Everything is a whirl for him. He reminisces about how the lumber boy was made the scapegoat for the murder of Mister Bertfrid. Murder, they say. He is not denying the fact he saw Mister Bertfrid die as he plummeted into the water well. He was way too close, and the cow dung that was conveniently there conspired to slip him into oblivion. But I guess the city magistrate just wanted to get the case closed by taking this helpless child prisoner. What a cruel world we live in. The wife is beyond reason. She was out for blood. So he sits there, helplessly thinking of his past, counting the days remaining till his last.
"Probably two days or so," he muttered to himself.
But time, slow as it may seem, must continue, and with it, darkness took its turn over the barren lands.
Someone is walking in this dark. But this time it was upward, above the dungeon, above the ground, climbing to the top of the tower. It seems there is some poorly made food in one hand and a torch in the other. As he reached the top of the tower, he encountered two soldiers by the door playing cards to pass the time. One of them is clearly drunk. He immediately notices the soldier reaching them and stumbles toward him:
"state your reason."
was what he was supposed to say, and in his mind, he did say it. But the words he mumbled were clearly not it. The other guard, clearly annoyed that his fun was being interrupted, quickly opened the door and hurried him inside. Inside was a cross-legged old man amid his sleep. He jerked awake when he heard the door open. As soon as he saw the dark figure, he went on his knees and started begging for his slip-up. But when the old man saw what was under the helmet, he recognized it. The old man slowly went back to his cross-legged position.
He is all smiles, pointing him toward the back of the room. The soldier walks toward it and finds the orb. The old man cannot reach it because both his legs are shackled to the wall. The soldier proceeded to pick up the orb and smash it. As soon as the orb was shattered, an alarm went off...
The prisoners were awakened by the weird alarm that was being sounded. they were about to dismiss it and go back to sleep when one of them shouted
"mana..."
as soon as he said that, there were a cackling inside the next room and then
BOOM
chaos
An explosion erupted. Some prisoners were yahooing and running; others were begging for freedom.
The kid was confused by what the hell was happening. Soon enough, though, most of the prisoners were out. and the sounds of chaos were outside rather than inside. And in the fire that was ensuing inside, a man was seen descending the stairs rather than ascending. bloodied sword in his hand. The man quickly moved toward a certain door and hacked over the steel. A fine person emerged out of it. By the time he arrived, almost all the prisoners were out, except one. the boy. the man with the sword approaching:
"What are you doing, boy? Aren't you supposed to be outside?"
"The chains, my arm is stu..."
In a split second the chains were off and the door to his cell was open. Even though he was free, the boy stood there hesitating. the man:
"What are you waiting for?"
"I don't think this is right. Even if I escape, I am going to be a fugitive."
"So, are you going to die as an innocent man or live as a fugitive?"
after starting there for a while:
"My life is in your hand, mister."
"Your life is in your own hand, not mine. If you value it, then follow me."
The man started running, followed by the other man he just rescued.
The kid now knows what he has to do. He took the steps out of his cell and ran through the corridor, toward his freedom.
That kid's name was Eric.