Bruno's hopes were crushed as the ship continued its relentless journey without any signs of stopping. Days turned into weeks, as he waited patiently for an opportunity that never seemed to arise. Despite his good behavior, he remained bound and gagged, enduring the pain inflicted upon his wrists. Nasty bruises and blisters adorned his skin, a testament to his captivity. The cloth pressed against the corners of his mouth, causing discomfort and pain.
Unable to bear it any longer, Bruno seized the moment when the sailor with the red scarf around his neck arrived with food. Finally able to speak, he mustered the courage to ask, his voice weak and desperate, "Do I have to be tied up and gagged? My hands are hurting and look at my mouth. If this continues, I'll develop inflammation and perish before you have a chance to sell me."
The man paused, digesting the boy's words, his gaze shifting to the hanging lamp on a nail wedged in the supporting beam above. Seeking better illumination, he retrieved the lamp and examined Bruno's face closely, even pinching the young alchemist's cheek to inspect the corners of his mouth. Scabs covered the tender skin, with traces of blood seeping through.
He let out an almost theatrically dramatic sigh before considering his options. Clearly torn, he debated internally before uttering, "If I allow it, can you promise me that you won't scream on this ship ever again?"
"I promise," Bruno replied, his voice tinged with sincerity.
The sailor snorted, his skepticism evident. "Like your word means anything. You lie through your teeth even when stating your name," he jested. "But I do want to sell you for a good sum, so I'll allow it. However, should you dare to scream... let's just say it won't end well for you."
Technically, the sailor wasn't entirely wrong, although there was no way he could have known that Bruno's birth name, given by his parents, was actually Boreas. The irony of the situation struck the boy as amusing.
"If you don't trust me, then why did you bother asking?" the young alchemist maintained his composure, his emotions in check.
"Let's say it was merely out of habit," the sailor replied, briefly flashing a smile. "Now, eat your food. I'll be right back."
With little else to occupy his time and a pang of gnawing hunger, Bruno began devouring his meal, savoring each bite as he remained bound in captivity.
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The night over Blackrock shrouded the city in darkness, an ideal backdrop for nefarious activities, which is precisely why they had chosen this moment.
From the depths of the shadows, a solitary empty bottle hurtled through the air, crashing against the guard's sturdy breastplate. Shards of glass scattered, finding their way into his face, causing him to groan in pain. Reacting instinctively, he twisted his neck to shield his eyes, using the lantern in his hand as a makeshift shield. It was a hasty move, lacking conscious thought but offering some form of protection.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"Ha ha ha! I told you I could hit that asshole!" a voice erupted from the darkness. Its youthful timbre revealed the culprit to be nothing more than a mischievous child.
"You little rats!" the guard bellowed, his voice ringing out and alerting other cloaked figures nearby. With determination, he rushed toward the direction from which the bottle had been hurled. "I need help here!" he shouted, his cry summoning fellow guards to his aid.
Like a surge of light in the darkness, numerous sources of illumination materialized, their accompanying heavy boots momentarily filling the city center with a resounding echo before gradually fading away. The once-teeming market square was now practically empty, though not entirely devoid of activity.
In a nearby alley, in close proximity to the main building of the alchemists' guild, a small group of individuals concealed themselves, their faces obscured by deep hoods beneath dark cloaks. The preparations for this operation had required meticulous planning and considerable logistical effort, but the time for action had finally arrived.
"Are you sure?" Tom, Viki's brother, whispered, his voice barely audible beneath his cloak as he glanced toward his sister.
She, too, was garbed in the same cloak, intently observing the commotion, illuminated by the guards' light sources.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Billy gave his approval," she replied, her voice infused with a sense of urgency.
"But..." Tom hesitated.
"Now!" Viki hissed, cutting him off abruptly. "Go, go, go!"
The group sprang into motion, carts in tow, hurtling toward the alley where Bruno's laboratory had once stood. The girl pushed her brother to the forefront, and with a single glance over her shoulder, she signaled him to retrieve his lockpicks and begin working on the padlock securing the gate.
With deftness and speed, Tom swiftly picked the lock, removing the chain and stepping aside to allow the others to enter. Raul brushed past him, seizing both handles of the gate and pulling them open, granting access to the awaiting boys. Meanwhile, Viki ignited a small torch, a cloth wrapped around a timber soaked in oil, providing a flickering source of light. Guided by this illumination, she entered the premises, her eyes immediately drawn to the untouched ingredients that awaited their pilfering.
"This, this, and this. Pack it all, quickly," Viki commanded, her voice laced with urgency, as she pointed at the score she wished to take.
The boys moved with practiced efficiency, swiftly gathering the necessary resources, their familiarity with navigating the darkness serving them well. "Faster," Viki hissed as they packed crates and bags onto the carts.
Tom pointed to the alchemical equipment on the tables, seeking confirmation. "Do we take any of this?"
"No! We don't need it! Take only what I told you!" Viki hissed losing her temper, her expression betraying her impatience.
Tom's face briefly contorted with frustration, but he acquiesced, joining the others in the task at hand. They loaded everything onto the carts and prepared to make their escape. Raul took charge of one cart, while Fin seized the other. Viki led the way, tossing the dwindling torch to the ground and extinguishing it with her foot. She then hastened to assist her brother, who was closing the gate, ensuring no trace of their presence remained. With the padlock back in place and the chain secured, she was the last to exit the alley, casting a cautious glance toward the direction where she expected the guards to emerge after their futile pursuit.
No signs of them yet.
Satisfied, she joined the others, vanishing into the embrace of the shadows cast by the next alley and hastening toward the old wine warehouse. The operation had been an unequivocal success, a result of meticulous planning and the experience she had accumulated over time.
A sly smirk etched its way onto her face as she sprinted at full speed through the city, her triumph evident.