First, Pirin paid a visit to Saha’i. He was in a cell on the opposite side of the pit. Pirin crept across the sand as quietly as he could, sticking to the edge so the guards wouldn’t see. But they were too busy watching the walls of the pit and making sure their torches stayed lit—they wouldn’t see Pirin.
He pushed open the door to Saha’i’s cell. As usual, it was unlocked. The man was sleeping on his back, staring up at the ceiling while snoring in choir with the seven other men in the cell.
Pirin knelt beside Saha’i’s cot, then shook his shoulder as gently as he could.
The man bolted upright, snorting and looking side-to-side—until he set his eyes on Pirin and stopped.
“Pirin?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
“We’re getting out,” Pirin said. “If you want to get out too, I’ll need a distraction.”
“Leaving?” Saha’i shook his head. “What makes you think we want to leave our service?”
“Do you like being fed to the labyrinth as fodder? You’ve lived your entire life as a prisoner. It’s time for something different. Come on.”
Saha’i opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Was that the best Pirin could do? This wouldn’t be the first speech he had to give—he’d have to motivate plenty of bedraggled groups of soldiers who barely knew him if he was going to be a king. Now would just be a practice run.
“Saha’i, you’re a healer,” Pirin said. “You want to help them, and they trust you. Are you helping them by letting them sit here, promising that everything will be alright eventually, and to just let things run their course?” Pirin paused, almost ready to let the man answer, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Saha’i might not give the answer Pirin wanted. “I don’t think you do—I’ve seen you looking up at the entrance, or up at the cave walls, looking for a way out.”
In truth, Pirin hadn’t seen Saha’i do any of those things. But if he could plant the idea in his mind…
“Haven’t you ever wanted something more? Eane-forsake it, the Saltsprays don’t matter. They’re a lowly sect in the middle of nowhere. If you really want to help these people, you’d help them get out of here. Maybe you don’t want it, but I’m sure there’s at least one other person in here that’s looking for something more. They deserve your best effort.”
Saha’i pushed himself up, but he still wore an unconvinced expression.
“I’m going to start climbing,” Pirin said. He would have to lead by example. “I’ll need a distraction so they don’t notice me, and you’re the only one the other prisoners will listen to. If you can get the guards’ eyes off me and onto you, I can make it to the top unseen.” There were six guards tonight, but if the prisoners worked together, they could make a big enough distraction. “I’ll toss the ladder down, and you can all escape. It’s nighttime, and there are more of you than there are guards right now. Get out and run, and don’t stop running until you’ve reached a place where you can finally live the life you want.”
Saha’i stayed silent. Backing away, Pirin turned back towards the door. He’d done what he could. Now, it was time to put his faith in another healer.
Two shadowy silhouettes waited outside the cell door—an ostal and a dragonfolk.
“Speech could’ve been a bit shorter,” Alyus said. “But decent for a first effort. That was your first time trying to make a speech like that?”
“I…don’t know. I can’t recall.” Pirin opened the cell door and stepped outside slowly.
“Then we’ll call it the first, elfy.”
Pirin nodded and shut the door behind him. “Once I make it to the top, I’ll throw the ladder down. You guys climb up and run. Get out of here and get back to the ship. I’ll go back into the tunnels, get what I need, then get out.”
“Aye, we can do that. Just don’t get yourself caught this time.”
“I don’t plan on it.”
Pirin wondered if Nomad was still watching, then shut down the thought. Of course Nomad was still watching. Powerful wizards were supposed to be able to hear things for miles as they advanced higher through the stages.
Pirin bent down and dipped his hands in the sand, coating them in dry powder as best as he could. Then he slipped along the edge of the pit until he found his first foothold—a rock jutting out between two cell doors.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
It had been the first foothold he had planned. While he had been cycling Essence the past week, he hadn’t just been sitting with his eyes closed or using the Memory Chain. He had been plotting the best course up the side of the pit.
He reached up to the next handhold, a rock three feet above his head, then hauled himself up. His shoulder still ached, as did the wound across his chest, but couldn’t let it stop him. He had practiced pulling himself up using the bars of the cell—besides, his elven bones were light, and they put less strain on his body.
But sooner than later, the guards would notice. They were dutifully scanning the walls of the pit, and though their gazes lingered higher up on the wall, there was no way they wouldn’t notice Pirin once he made it to the first ledge.
The first ledge: twenty feet above, it was a strip of rock that ran the entire outside of the pit. He could pause and catch his breath, but only if the guards’ focus was elsewhere.
“Come on, Saha’i…” Pirin whispered to himself as he climbed, hauling himself from handhold to handhold, and kicking from foothold to foothold. “Do it. You can do it, and I need you to do it…”
Finally, when Pirin looked over his shoulder for a fourth time, he spotted a bunch of dark shapes leaking out of Saha’i’s cells. They scattered along the edge of the pit, starting a chain reaction. They dipped into cells, and Pirin caught hushed voices whispering in the silent night.
Prisoners leaked out of all the cells—at least five or six each. They spilled into the center of the pit, and soon, all the cell doors were open. A crowd of nearly a hundred prisoners was gathering.
When the prisoners made it to the guards, they swarmed from all sides, moving faster than Pirin could have done on his own. They overwhelmed and overtook the guards, ripping the spears and torches out of the Saltspray warriors’ hands. The guards never had a chance to call out or signal for help.
When the crowd dispersed, all six warriors lay prone on the ground, surrounded by just as many dead prisoners.
Pirin gulped, and his hand slipped. He slipped down a foot before he grabbed another handhold, then stopped for a moment to catch his breath.
Now, all the prisoners down at the bottom were watching Pirin. They held their torches up, and a few others had taken the Saltspray spears. But if they stayed out in the open like that, someone would notice. There were more guards patrolling at the top, and at any moment, they could look down to the pit and see what had happened.
Pirin pulled himself up to the first ledge, then turned around and pressed his back against the wall. He scanned back and forth across the crowd, looking for two people in particular.
Alyus and Brealtod stood just below, and Brealtod held one of the guards’ spears in his hand.
“Get them back in their cells for now!” Pirin hissed, as softly as he could while still making himself heard. Hopefully, none of the guards at the top would hear. “When I throw down the ladder, be ready to climb!”
“They’ll notice that there are no guards down here, elfy,” Alyus warned, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice travel further.
Brealtod hissed in agreement.
“Get six of you,” Pirin said. “Grab their robes and put them on, then patrol like everything is normal.”
Alyus nodded, then ran back into the crowd, spreading the plan to Saha’i and the other prisoners.
Pirin himself couldn’t waste any more time. He turned back to the wall and continued to climb. There were three more ledges to reach, and the longer he clung to this one, the more worn out he was making himself.
He continued his path, hauling himself up with the rocky outcroppings and nonconforming bricks. Foot by foot, he ascended.
When he reached the next ledge, he held on with one hand and used his other to unbutton his tunic. He pulled it off, then wiped the sweat from his forehead. Pushups, situps, pullups, they were all one thing. Actually climbing was another. He tied his shirt around his neck like a scarf, then continued upwards.
Soon, he promised himself. Soon, I’ll get myself an enhanced body, and you won’t have to worry about stuff like this again.
Halfway to the next ledge, he reached a point where he would have to jump. He had planned for this and anticipated it, but now that he was here, the gap seemed much, much wider.
He took a deep breath and cycled his Essence to calm himself, then pushed it out to the tips of his limbs. Even now, just the little bits of Essence made his muscles feel a touch stronger.
Then he pushed off. He reached out, clenching all his muscles. After a few seconds in the air, he gripped the next outcropping and pulled up. He found a foothold to stabilize himself, then reached up to the next ledge and dragged himself onto it.
He circled around to the front side of the pit now, close to the stone walkway in and out of the labyrinth. He was on the last stretch. He reached up, trying to reach the next handhold, when a middle-sized stone wraith seeped out of a crack in the wall.
It was wolf-sized, though it still had gangly legs and a vaguely gorilla-shaped head. It snarled at Pirin, then lashed out with a stoney fist. He inched back along the ledge, trying to avoid it. The spikes on its wrist slashed his cheek, and when its fist collided with the wall, it left a network of cracks spreading out in all directions.
He readjusted his grip on the ledge, but the wraith was faster. It swung down and kicked him in the chest with its stoney legs.
Pirin’s grip faltered, and his fingers slipped. His grip failed, and he fell.
He slipped down the side of the wall, plummeting until he hit the ledge one level below. It wasn’t wide enough to catch him, and though the impact pushed all the air out of his lungs, he still reached out and caught himself before he hit the ground below.
He narrowed his eyes. Wraiths.
They wouldn’t be a problem. He prepared a shattered palm and kept rising.