Icarus flexed his fingers open in an excruciatingly slow manner. The heat from the dungeon had escaped during the night, and bludgeoned his fingers with a biting cold that froze them stiff. The orb was buried deep within the ground, in case Ravniel would ever walk his dungeon chamber.

Kayam would be away for the day, searching for clues for his friend. He spoke very highly of his friend, recounting tales of when Elijah would fight off children for Kayam. Icarus was beginning to be interested in him as well. A blond child with blue eyes, similar to him. He smiled warmly as he realised that the reason he was able to speak to someone from outside the dungeon was because Elijah noticed his voice.

“I want to see you… Kayam… Elijah,” he whispered, words mingling with the little tufts of vapor escaping his mouth. “I want to get out.” Now that he said the words to himself, the desire became stronger than ever. He shook his hands, chains clanging around his wrists and stood up. He already checked before, but he walked as far away from the binding spot as he could. Sure enough, he could walk everywhere in the cell whilst the shackles restricted him. It only prevented him from leaving the cell itself. Icarus frowned to himself. Had anyone escaped before? If not, then why else would they need shackles and chains? He smiled to himself as he realised.

“People other than me definitely escaped before,” he whispered to himself with a mischievous smirk. “Kayam, mentioned something about the water leak in the ceiling last night. If there is a leak here, it means it leads somewhere above my chamber. And if I could just reach it, I could reach above.” He jumped as high as he could, but his fingers were still far from the ceiling. The room was about double his height. There was no way he could reach it with his fingers alone. The scalpel from the medical room offered little solace.

He needed something to reach the ceiling. Anything at all. “Thank my brains,” he snickered as he began to claw at the ground at the far corner of the cell. After some time, of mud-filled nails and dusted bottoms, his hand created a loud metallic clang across an object under the ground. “Hah, there it is.”

He tugged at the object until it gave way, sending him into the air behind him. He massaged his head from the sudden collision with the ground. He raised the metal object into the air and laughed. A twisted metal plate. It had been turned on to itself over and over until it resembled a spiralling metal stick. Icarus created it one of his many moments of madness. There wasn't any particular reason for making it; he just wanted to spend some time. When the guards asked him where the plate had disappeared to, he said that he dropped it outside. That reminded him of another fact.

“The guards never go outside do they? If they did, they would know that I never throw anything outside. Yet from the few times I lied about it, they didn’t check a single time. That means they either don’t go home or they don’t have a home. Regardless of the answer, it greatly changes my chances of escape.”

That wasn’t all. Several sharp, twisted metal plates, the leaking ceiling, the scalpel. And the best of them all, Damam wasn’t here for the last few days. Where could he have gone?, wondered Icarus. Home? But then it changes the fact these guards have a home to go to, or that they patrol the outside of this place.

“Argh, this is too confusing. I’ll keep it simple and take a risk. Let’s just say he’s sick. Then isn’t now the best time to act?” Icarus hurriedly mumbled in the cold air. “Only Ravniel is here, and he’s the weaker of the two guards. And if I could make a hole in the ceiling, I could escape.” Icarus nodded with a renewed resolve. Speaking his intentions aloud, made him sure of himself.

He carefully unearthed the five metal plates he had buried and laid them out end to end. With meticulous precision, he began to twist the plates along the folds he had previously made, shaping them into spirals. As he worked, the individual pieces gradually overlapped and transformed into a single, elongated metal spiral. Satisfied with his progress, he inserted a scalpel into one end of the spiral, but found the structure too flimsy for his needs. Determined, he searched the room until he found bandages from the medical supplies. Wrapping the bandages tightly around the makeshift metal stick, layer upon layer, he reinforced it until it was rigid and sturdy. Finally, he tested its strength, ensuring it was as solid as could be.

"Perfection," he exclaimed, jumping with excitement. Icarus aimed the makeshift spear at the source of the water leak and lunged towards it with all his might. The scalpel pierced through the hole effortlessly, as if cutting through butter. With a sigh of relief, Icarus sank to the ground, watching the spear hang from the ceiling, water now cascading down its side even faster than before. All this time, the water had been meticulously softening the mud around the small hole. It was as if the stars had aligned. Was it fate? Was it some divine intervention? Everything so far was perfect, as if someone or something had created this escape route for him. He had no way of knowing who, or what, was aiding him so perfectly.

Icarus grabbed the orb and bandages and placed them in his pockets. “Got Kayam’s orb. All I need to do now is dig.” He twisted the spear embedded in the ceiling with deliberate force, feeling the resistance before it gave way. With a swift yank, he pulled the spear free, creating a gaping hole. Instantly, water began gushing out in a torrential stream, cascading down in a powerful surge from the newly formed breach.

“Oh no,” he uttered as the water washed all over his body. His voice was trembling as the panic began to build, a scream threatening to break free. What should he do? He had no way of knowing, whether the water would stop flowing soon or not. If it was a large supply of water, he could possibly drown. He cursed himself for not taking it into account. A surge of panic coursed through his veins as the water splashes against his ankles. It wouldn’t be long before the water would spread across the earthen floor and rise against the walls. What should he do? What could he do? He slapped himself with both hands in annoyance. He needed someone. And the only person that was near him, was Ravniel.

He shook his head, trying to collect his thoughts. “I’m complicating everything again. I need to get Ravniel.” He ran towards the door, feet splashing against the water as he did so. “RAVNIEL, I NEED TO GO TOILET. I NEED THE TOILET RIGHT NOW. I MEAN IT, YOU RAT-FACED BASTARD.” He smashed the door with his fists, his wrists slightly bruising from the chains.

“FINE, I’M COMING. JUST SHUT UP,” Ravniel screamed back. His footsteps resonated ominously in the hallway, a rhythmic pounding that grew louder with each step. The sound of metal keys jangling preceded him, adding to the tension. Ravniel reached the cell and scrambled to unlock the heavy, iron door set high in the wall, well out of the Icarus’s reach. With a grunt of effort, he twisted the key, and the door creaked open, casting a sliver of light into the dark cell below. Surprisingly, he opened the door to an eerie emptiness. The previous dripping of water drops had disappeared as well, now replaced by a stream of water. As he looked closer, he realised there was a gaping hole in the ceiling and a suspicious spear on the ground.

“SHIT. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT,” he screamed in a snake like manner. He grabbed his hair, face now a beetroot-red. “ARGH, HE ESCAPED, DIDN’T HE? SHIT, WHAT DO I DO NOW. THEY’RE GOING TO KILL ME. GODDAMN THESE HUMANS.” He jumped into the dungeon, bursting with anger. However, just as he landed, his knees buckled, giving away and he landed on face first into the muddy water. All the colour sapped from his face in an instant, as he realised what happened. Icarus was hiding right beneath the door. Ravniel, upset by the new-formed hole, and the empty cell became too emotional and jumped right into his trap. As soon as he landed, Icarus kicked the back of his knees.

“Shut your mouth, you mosquito looking rat,” Icarus sneered as he wrapped his chains around Ravniels neck. Everything happened so suddenly, that Ravniel had no time to react. Ravniel spluttered as the water on the ground began to seep into his mouth. He struggled to keep his consciousness, as the chains bound tighter and tighter across his neck. He scrambled at the chains, trying to dig his nails beneath them, whilst leaving sharp nail marks on his neck. In his desperation, he kicked backwards, his heel digging into Icarus’s back. Peculiarly, the kick did not fester any damage on Icarus at all. Instead he tightened his grip on the chains, while shoving Ravniels head into the water. Finally, the struggle ended as the guards body grew limp. Icarus did not stop his hold on the chains. He finally got his hands on the one person who made his stay in this dungeon ever-so miserable. He was going to kill Ravniel. Kill. Icarus leaped back suddenly, as he realised what he was doing, letting the chains splash on to the ground.

“Goddamn it. I nearly killed a man,” he shouted as he crouched down to feel the man’s throat. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he felt Ravniel’s pulse reverberate off his fingers. “Anyways, seems like you were wrong. I didn’t escape. Now, I’m sure you have keys. Oh there you go. Keys.” He unlocked the shackles one at a time, until he was completely free.

“Now, Ravniel, now that I’m free, I can escape. So I don’t have to panic anymore.” He took out the bandages and began wrapping them around his mouth. “I can’t have you speaking now. I don’t want them to be on alert yet. I wish I had time to ask you questions about this dungeon, but I don’t care anymore. The water is already at my ankles.” He deftly wrapped his very own chains around Ravniel, locking them into place. However, he left his left hand free.

“I hope you have a good time here. Now, you can’t hear me, but we start floating in the water, I’ll make sure to connect your shackle to the little hook on the ceiling. You know, the one where my lamp was supposed to be? That way, you won’t drown. You should be glad for you life when you awaken.”

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Icarus looked at him once more before picking up the spear. Then with a powerful thrust, he broke through the ceiling again. This time a large chunk falling out, and a corresponding gushing of water ensued. Quickly, he attacked the ceiling again and again, until he finally managed to produce a hole large enough to allow him to pass through. Finally, the water climbed high enough to submerge his chest. Icarus prayed that there would be enough time to hold his breath and reach the hole that he had created, while dragging Ravniel to the top. He was scared that water would fill the room completely, until it drowned the rat-like guard.

That was when he realised the water was no longer rising any higher. To his relief, he noticed that the water was escaping through the high grille in the room, leaving it at their head level, despite the continuous water pouring.

“I’ll just hang you against these bars here, instead. I heard windows exist. Instead of these small bars. I would like to see them, once I get out of here. I made a friend of sorts too. He finds me annoying… probably?” Icarus smiled as he bobbed slightly in the water. He patted Ravniel’s head mockingly.

“I don’t know what they will do to you, once they find out that you failed to keep me locked up.” Just as he began to turn towards the water source, he turned right back towards the guard, remembering a certain mission he kept to himself. “I nearly forgot, I did say that I would pay you back,” he chuckled. Suddenly, he slapped Ravniel across his visage. The sound created ripples in the water as his head hit off the bars beside him.

“That was for the last few years. Have fun here!” Icarus sneered, pinching his nose and taking a deep breath. He grabbed the edges of the hole he had created and squeezed himself through, the water blinding him as he emerged into the rushing torrent above.

He surged upward with powerful strokes, feeling the cold water close around him as he swam higher and higher. His lungs burned, and his muscles screamed with effort, but he forced himself to push through the pain. The darkness pressed in on him, and for a moment, he feared he might not make it.

Then, with a final, desperate kick, Icarus broke the surface. He gasped for air, laughing hysterically as the sweet oxygen filled his lungs. His laughter echoed off the walls, a mixture of relief and exhilaration. The water churned around him, and he frantically reached for something to hold onto, his fingers slipping on the wet surfaces.

After several attempts, he finally grasped a small handle jutting out from the wall. He clung to it, his knuckles white as he steadied himself. The rush of adrenaline still coursed through him, but he allowed himself a moment to catch his breath and take in his surroundings.

The dim light revealed a narrow passageway above, leading away from the flooded chamber. A thin, human-sized chute lined with metal rungs lead to the passageway. Tentatively, he reached out for a rung, and grabbed it with a firm hand. “I’M NEARLY THROUGH. I’M NEARLY THROUGH.” He pressed gently across his wet pants, to confirm that the orb was still there. He rushed through the chute, the narrow passageway, and then down some ladders until he was in a wide corridor.

“Okay, let me collect myself. I went above to a water filled room above my cell. And now I’m standing outside that room,” he whispered. He peered closely at the sign on the room. “Just a bunch of letters. I wish I could read. Maybe I could read once upon a time. But I guess it’s a water tank? How lucky that it’s right above my cell.”

He hurried down the corridor, leaving a wet trail behind him. The earthen walls seemed to close in on him as he ran, and his footsteps echoed ominously through the narrow space. Every breath he took felt labored, the damp air of the underground passageway mingling with the cold sweat of fear on his skin. His eyes darted from side to side, and his ears strained for any hint of pursuit. Every creak and drip amplified his anxiety, making his heart pound faster. The corridor seemed endless, a labyrinth of twisting paths with multiple choices to go right or left at every turn. Each intersection brought a fresh wave of uncertainty, and the shadows cast by his flickering torchlight played tricks on his mind. The sense of direction he clung to felt increasingly fragile, but he pressed on, driven by the desperate need for freedom. The fear of capture spurred him forward, his resolve hardening with every step.

Eventually, he came across a room with a heavy wooden door, its surface worn and weathered. He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest, and his hand trembled slightly as he reached for the door. Should he knock? The risk of being caught weighed heavily on his mind, his imagination conjuring images of guards dragging him back to his cell, or worse. He stood there, paralyzed by indecision, every second feeling like an eternity. While he was debating, the door creaked open slightly, and a man suddenly appeared, his silhouette framed by the dim light from within.

The faint glow from behind the door cast long shadows, obscuring the man’s features, but there was an air of cautious curiosity about him. Suddenly, a flicker of recognition flashed across the man’s face. His eyes widened in shock and he fell to the floor in trembling prostration. “M-my prince. I apologise for appearing in front of you in such robes.”

Icarus bent over and reached for the man, who flinched in response, causing Icarus to withdraw his hand. “Aren’t you a guard in this place? Why are you calling me prince?”

The man shakily stood up as he understood Icarus’s current situation. “Ah, I heard such a story. That our prince had lost all his memories.”

“Explain to me, and please be calm. I just want to know, why you’re calling me a prince. Ja Senyah doesn’t have kids, right?”

The man’s face hardened upon hearing Ja Senyah’s name. His long pointed ears twitched slightly, and the triangular marks under his eyes began to slightly glow.

“And that man in the chamber. He didn’t have pointed ears. Nor did he have those marks under his eyes. He was just like me.”

“No, he is not just like you. You are above all of humanity, my prince. We cannot compare a lowly human to the likes of your greatness.”

Icarus winced as he heard himself be called a prince again. Somewhere deep within his mind, his memories began to stir. He could feel the warmth of a person hugging him closely tightly to their bosom. “Icarus, my little prince.” A soft and kind voice replayed from the very depths of his mind, accompanied by a sharp stinging pain.

“And I’m asking you, WHAT AM I?” His question came out more aggressive and violent than he had intended to and he held his mouth. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I just hate that I know nothing. So tell me, please. Begin with your name, and where we are.”

The man sighed as he looked around. “Guards may come soon. We shou-”

“I don’t care. Tell me right now,” Icarus demanded.

The man acted out a small courteous bow and nodded his head. “My name is Ijseen. I am one of the many guards in this dungeon. They call this dungeon the Palace of Dust. But it has fallen from grace. We don’t want to be here. B-but they have our families hostage. We are in the city of Dastonia. The home of the proud Dwarmans.”

“Dwarmans. What are you? I mean. As far as I can tell, you guys have marks under your eyes and your pointed ears?” There was some shouting heard in the distance followed up by the thud of footfalls. “Ignore them, Ijseen. I want you to answer the questions.”

Ijseen hesitantly watched the shadows approach the far end of the long corridor. “I don’t know how to answer that my prince. I suppose you could say we are a different race to humans altogether.”

Icarus emitted a weary and annoyed sigh. “And you called me prince? I don’t even look the same. I don’t have the same pointed ears or anything.”

“No!” Ijseen stated firmly. “You are our prince. You are our hope.”

“Hope? Who’s hope? What happened here. In this dungeon?”

“No, Icarus. Not this dungeon. The whole of Dastonia. Everything. Everyone. All of us Dwarmans.”

“I don’t know about saving a whole race. I just want to get the hell out of this place. I mean, come on, we don’t even know if I’m one of… you.”

“No! I’m sure of it,” Ijseen reaffirmed as he grabbed Icarus’s hands. “Ja Senyah himself brought you here.”

“J-Ja Senyah? Wh-”

“OI!! ICARUS. GET BACK HERE. QUICK GRAB HIM. IS THAT IJSEEN? IJSEEN IS CONSPIRING WITH AN ESCAPEE. GRAB THEM BOTH!”

Ijseen ran inside his room and grabbed a cloak, draping it across Icarus quickly.

“I want you to follow me out, my prince. Follow my path, and we will escape in no time.”

Icarus barely had time to nod before Ijseen pulled him through a hidden passage at the back of the room. The shouts of the guards grew louder, echoing ominously through the corridors they left behind. Ijseen led the way with practiced ease, navigating the twists and turns of the narrow passageways.

The tunnel opened into a larger, dimly lit corridor, and they sprinted down it, the sounds of pursuit still ringing in their ears. As they ran, Icarus’s mind raced with questions. He was a prince? How could that be? His memories were a fragmented puzzle, pieces scattered and missing. He needed answers, but for now, escape was the priority.

Ijseen slowed as they approached a heavy iron door. He produced a key from his belt and quickly unlocked it, ushering Icarus inside. The room beyond was filled with various tools and equipment, suggesting it was a maintenance room of some kind.

“We need to keep moving,” Ijseen said urgently, closing the door behind them. “This tunnel leads to an old escape route, one known only to a few.”

Icarus nodded, his breathing heavy. “Why are you helping me?”

Ijseen paused, his expression serious. “Because you are our prince, and you are our hope. The Dwarmans have awaited your return for many years.”

“B-but I can’t remember anything. I didn’t ask for any of this. I just want to be free.”

“You will, in time,” Ijseen replied, gripping his shoulder. “But for now, we must focus on getting you to safety.”

They moved through another series of tunnels, each darker and more foreboding than the last. The air grew colder, and the sound of dripping water echoed eerily around them. Ijseen’s determined pace never wavered, and Icarus followed, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

Finally, they reached a small, hidden exit. Ijseen pushed it open, revealing a vast, underground city bathed in a soft, eerie glow. The air was fresher here, a stark contrast to the damp, confined corridors they had traversed. Towering structures made of stone and metal loomed overhead, and the faint hum of machinery filled the air. The streets were lined with strange, bioluminescent plants that cast an otherworldly light, illuminating the intricate architecture of Dastonia.

“Go,” Ijseen urged. “Follow the path through the forest. There’s a safe house nearby where you can rest.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?” Icarus asked, a note of desperation in his voice. “I don’t know anything out there. Won’t you help me out there? I’ll be all alone again.”

“I’ll follow soon,” Ijseen promised. “But first, I must ensure the guards lose our trail. Go, my prince. I will find you.”

“But-”

“WE NEARLY HAVE THEM. FORGET THE TRAITOR, GO FOR ICARUS.”

“No buts, my prince. I will distract them. Everyone wears these hooded cloaks in our country, so they will have a hard time finding you.”

Icarus glanced once more towards the large dungeon as he ran. His legs burst with a sudden energy as he mentally refused to be reimprisoned, carrying him towards the large interconnected network of towers and buildings. He wore a wide grin as his legs carried him faster than the wind. “I escaped. I really escaped.”