My room, because it’s really not a cell, is very bland. Very boring. It has no windows, a simple bed, a small hole in the corner that seems to lead out, but is barely large enough for my hand and has water running through it. It’s clearly used to dispose of waste, based on some of the smells that leak from it in the middle of the night. But the bed is warm and soft and I get fed in far too large amounts regularly. Nobody stands guard over me, my only company are the dragons that bring me meals. It’s almost like Smay has completely forgotten I exist down here. He certainly never deigns to visit.

It’s difficult to tell how much time has passed. I don’t dare assume three meals a day, and there’s no sunlight, only a soft glow that seems to come from the walls themselves and is constantly, annoyingly bright. I’m practically bouncing off the walls from boredom. I can’t concentrate on my escape plans for any length of time, but there really isn’t much else to focus on, so my muddled thoughts all start running together. Sometimes I nap. Sometimes I sing very bad ballads. Sometimes I talk to myself, trying to work through this like a logic puzzle. Other times, I wonder how long it will take Adamar, Folas and Valkallyn to get here. A month? And what to do once they arrive? How many days have passed by again?

My plan is almost finished, and although ‘almost’ isn’t ‘complete’ I decide that trying it is better than staying here indefinitely and trying to plan some more.

So, the next time one of the dumb dragons comes to deliver my food, I hide. There aren’t many places to hide, but behind the now-open door is a pretty good one. The dragon, of course, goes further in the room, trying to check if I’m under the bed. I carefully inch around the door to the outside and get a good look at the key and lock.

I have two options now, but considering that the size of the key is similar to that of the giant wooden spoon they provide me to eat with, I take a good look around, memorizing the corridor outside, and then clear my throat loudly.

The dragon, who had just stood up confusedly after not finding me beneath the bed, spins around immediately and bares its teeth. I hold up my hands non-threateningly, and step back into the room. The dragon shakes its emerald head, confusedly. Snarling at me threateningly, it places my tray of food on the bed and then leaves, slamming the door behind it.

“You're welcome for saving your job!” I shout after it. Then I search the heel of my shoe, finding my lockpicks and small knife stored right where they should be. The lock isn’t one that can be easily picked from the inside, Smay is far smarter than that. It is a small lock that loops through a hole in a piece of metal attached to the door, and a hole in a protruding bit of rock. There is also a big bar set above the lock that prevents the door from opening, but that will be easy enough to take care of.

Although escaping earlier would have been simple, the dragon would have raised the alarm too early. Best to give the impression that I’m not interested in escaping, even though I could. Perhaps they’ll let their guard down.

It takes three more meals to get the spoon-key right. I ruined the first two tries completely– didn’t even get the runes right that would allow me to maneuver it without touching! And then my third dropped numerous times and didn’t even fit the lock, and I was nearly caught by the emerald dragon coming by with my next meal. He’s not the only one who brings me food, but he’s the most common– albeit not the smartest –of the lot.

But the fourth key works, and I grin to myself as I slide it under the door. It takes more than a few tries and a lot of headaches to raise the stupid thing from the ground and maneuver it into the lock. But the tiny click is completely worth it. A bit more sliding it around and suddenly the whole lock falls, bouncing a few times on the ground before going completely still.

I hold my breath. Nothing. Nobody heard.

I lever my plate between the wooden door and the uneven stone wall, just underneath the bar blocking the door. It’s about chest height, just like I remembered. I crouch and, scooching my shoulder under the plate while moving as close to the wall as I can, I attempt to lift it. It’s heavy, and it takes all my strength to move it over the lip of its holder. It clatters down a lot louder than the lock, but I don’t waste any time waiting now. I shove the door open, and grab the small collection of bread and cheeses that I’ve been storing in my undershirt under my bed. The emerald dragon had even seen it earlier, but apparently had discounted it. I don’t know I’ll even get out of here, much less how long it will take me to find my friends, but hopefully I can live off this till then.

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Heading up the hallway, I try to navigate based on vague memories. I hadn’t been paying a lot of attention when Smay led me to my room. I had been paying even less attention before then, so it is quite surprising to me when I find myself at the Y intersection. Two dragons still guard the side I haven’t explored yet, and I immediately retreat out of sight, oddly feeling more than a little sick and light headed.

Part of me wants to head down that obviously very important hallway. More than part of me, I’d estimate most of me. But how to distract the dragons guarding it? My whole plan relies on getting as close to ‘out’ as possible without alerting any of the dragons to the fact that I’ve left my room. So any distraction would have to seem entirely normal to them.

Glancing around and confirming that– as far as the torches on the walls light at least– this passage is deserted, I sit down to think. Perhaps I could wait? No, that would take too long. Who knows when they change shifts? I could throw some of my bread or a small rock down the oncoming corridor and dash past while they’re distracted by the sound. Bread would be a bit unusual, but a stone should do.

Picking up one of the pebbles, I throw it as far down the other corridor as I can. Only after the stone has left my hand do I realize that if they spot it flying through the air, they might try to see where it came from instead of where it clatters.

It makes plenty of sound when it lands, but the dragons only shift their weight slightly and look at each other. Not even a peep from either of them, and neither goes to check it out. I sigh, and turn around. It’s doubtful I could get across the brightly lit intersection with those two on watch, especially when a highly suspicious thrown stone doesn’t even make them flinch. Besides, the longer I stay here the more sick I feel.

Suddenly though, there is a scream from somewhere down the oncoming corridor. It is clearly a summons of some sort, for the dragons, almost as one, leap into the air and rush down towards the noise. Torn, I consider following them for half-a-second. Watching a dragon meeting would be cool, but I doubt Smay will be speaking to them in any way I’d have a hope of understanding. So instead I dart down the now abandoned passage. It is also brightly lit and quickly goes back down into the bowels of the rock. Slowly, the torches are placed further and further apart. And then they are gone, and the rock is glowing again. My stomach sloshes unhappily, but I ignore it, as I run around the bend and straight into a glowing cavern with a person inside.

Blond hair hangs to his shoulders in an uneven cut, leaving bangs above his bright blue eyes. He has a beard, not yet fully grown in, but certainly trying. His face is young, but there are definite stress lines on his brow when he turns to me in surprise. In front of him on a table is a box-ish looking object that glows an entirely different type of light than from the stones. It is a harsh light, and it makes his face look deathly pale. Next to the box-thing is a small cylindrical container with a design of three black crescent moons united by a black circle and surrounded with livid green paint.

“What?!” The young man looks at me, almost angrily. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” His voice is warped by my pounding headache, and it takes all my mental powers to realize that he is neither elf, nor dwarf, and doesn’t have the wings of a Kashan or Tadhiel, although he has the height.

When I blink, he’s crossed the entire room and is standing before me, eyes widening in horror. “You’re supposed to be dead. Why aren’t you dead?!” He asks me. His voice hurts. Thinking hurts.

I turn and run, desperate to get out of here. The edges of my vision are going dark, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why I thought it was a good idea to go somewhere that was making me feel this awful.

I take a corner and start coughing. It’s a hacking, loud, ugly, splattering sound. I find myself leaning on the left wall, torchlight glaring menacingly. Red appears on my hand like magic. I think I had used that hand to cover my mouth, but I can’t be sure. My memories are messed up. All I know is that that can’t be good.

I think I hear the young man’s footsteps following me, and start my loping run again. Why wasn’t he affected? How could he stand to be in that room, by those– those things! They must be causinging this feeling, there was nothing else in that room! I blink again, and suddenly the floor is approaching my face at a worryingly rapid pace. Like it can’t wait to give me a hug.

I feel a sharp pain in my head, and then the world goes mercifully black. I’m not sure if my eyes are closed, or if they’re open, and just not seeing anything. Seemingly from a distance, there is a rushing of sound, thuds and screams of angry dragons. “I’ve got him!” A familiar male voice crows, and suddenly I’m off the ground and flying at tremendous speed through the air.

“Excellent job, Fin!” Faladel’s voice shouts. “Get us out of here, Silv!”

“I would if there weren’t all those dragons in that cavern we came in!” Silv shouts back.

I relax, and let the darkness and the pounding headache take me away. I’m safe now, I’m not coughing blood, I can’t feel my headache, I can’t feel anything, and then I can’t think either.