Finnley Y’veak

I couldn’ remember a colder night, or a longer one. Rueln was dead. There wasn’ a way he could have survived that fall, or the ragin’ water below. My friend was gone, and I had been close ta followin’ him.

Rueln’s fire had eaten at the wood, weakenin’ the supports of the cage. All I could do was watch as it came dangerously close ta the rope holdin’ the cage up before suddenly goin’ out. Just like that, I knew Rueln was gone. The fire lost its magic source, and everythin’ was too wet ta burn without it. Half the cage was gone, leavin’ a gapin’ hole where my friend had been.

The bandits never came ta check on the noise. They never heard us scream. Over the sound of the water and their boisterous drinkin’, too caught up in themselves ta bother with us. I lost track of the time. Days it’s been—probably—since we were taken. I was hungry, cold, and thirsty. Kept like animals, all of us, ignored and left ta die.

I stared at the burned half of the cage, not seein’ anythin’, and tryin’ ta push the heavy thoughts away from my mind. I didn’ want ta die. The thought was bitter. No life ta it. I’d already given up. What was there for me ta do, anyway?

I had got myself free of the ropes, contortin’ myself while Rueln had been unconscious. I’d always been flexible, only took a few hours. Some good it did. I couldn’ risk climbin’ out of the cage or jumpin’ into the river. I’d drown if the fall didn’ kill me.

Sniffin’, I rubbed my nose on the rough fabric of my pants and sighed. What good’s my sight if I couldn’ see somethin’ like this comin’? It’s my fault Rueln died. I’d been the one ta make him angry, so he lost control over himself. Everyone knows not ta tweak a new mage’s tail, even though I didn’ know he was a mage. I had only known him for a few weeks.

Ya should have told me. I thought we were friends.

My eyes burned, and I hid my face, my ugly thoughts twistin’ my insides. “I’m sorry, Rueln. I’m sorry.” It had all been a mistake. My sight was wrong. Rueln was gone, and it was because of this stupid power I lost everythin’… again. My parents… my clan… my friend… I’m goin’ ta die here.

My fingers curved inward, my nails bitin’ at my skin around my eyes as I cried, the sound too quiet ta hear. My chest cracked with emotion until I felt used up and empty layin’ on my back to stare up at the rope holdin’ the cage up.

I lay there, unmovin’, while the breeze ruffled my filthy clothes until a squirrel chittered all the way down the poll that held the cage up. I stiffened involuntarily and slowly sat up while it stood, chattered ta another squirrel across the gorge and flicked its tail. As amusin’ as the sight was of the small animal throwin’ attitude at its competition, I didn’ make a sound.

Was I stupid enough ta try?

My eyes slid over ta the gapin’ hole in the cage’s bars and studied all the charred areas, wonderin’ if they could hold me up. Shakin’ a little, I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves. “Better this than layin’ here ta die,” I whispered and got ta my feet.

The squirrel darted back up the pole as soon as it saw me movin’ cautiously across the small space ta the exposed side. I didn’ let my brain rattle off how I was goin’ ta get myself killed. As soon as I made it safely ta the edge, I grabbed hold, twisted my body around the bars, and held on for dear life.

Holdin’ on as the cage suddenly started swingin’ with my abrupt movement was the hardest thing I’d ever done. My arms burned, the muscles strainin’ ta keep my body in place until it finally came ta a stop again. “I thought I was a goner,” I said, a nervous laugh bubblin’ out of my mouth.

My heart was still chokin’ me, stuck in my throat so the sound was strained. Swallowin’, I took another deep breath and started the slow climb around the side of the cage. I needed ta get ta the solid area before I started my climb up. Every movement I made shook the cage, never allowin’ me ta take a break or rest. I knew goin’ in that I was actin’ ten ways a fool, but now that I was riskin’ my life, there was no goin’ back.

I began the climb up, lettin’ go of the bars to reach up for the cage’s roof. My fingers just barely wrapped around the wooden bar. I had ta stretch, settin’ my feet in the cage bars for leverage, and shimmy up enough ta have a handhold.

“Almost,” I murmured, strainin’ even as I felt myself slip. “Almost,” I said, fear seepin’ into my voice just before my hand took hold.

I screamed as my foot slipped, leavin’ me hangin’ there over the gorge with only one hand hold. Eyes wide with panic, I reached up with my other hand, fumblin’ as the cage shook violently, both the wind and my movement workin’ ta throw me over. Teeth grindin’ together, I strained, the muscles in my arm screamin’ as I struggled ta pull myself up. I couldn’ catch my breath. Each second felt like hours. My death was only one mistake away.

My hand finally wrapped around the bar and suddenly I had two hands ta work with. My boot lockin’ itself between the bars was next, and then the other. Bit by bit, I climbed, pullin’ myself until at last I was on top of the cage. Every muscle shook from the strain and my heart was poundin’ like hammers under my ribs as I stared down the way at the water below. I couldn’ move an inch further, too relieved ta be alive.

“I can’ stop,” I said, tryin’ ta push myself on. I wasn’ free yet.

Slowly, I pulled my gaze up ta the rope holdin’ the cage suspended and lifted my left hand ta reach for it. As shaky as I was, I held on ta the old rope, usin’ it as a guide ta cautiously pull myself ta my feet.

The scariest part wasn’ the height, but the wind. Standin’ on top of the cage, it pulled at my clothes, tryin’ ta toss me away. I couldn’ tell if it was angry I’d escaped the cage or if it was urgin’ me on. I climbed again, pullin’ myself up the rope and reachin’ out for the pole that had inspired this entire foolish attempt. Only when I finally pulled myself up, throwin’ a leg over the side ta straddle the thing, did I feel the first measure of… hope. I could do this.

The pole was wide enough ta sit on, but I didn’ dare stand. One gust ta catch me by surprise would knock me off. Instead, I scooted, inch by inch, forward, pullin’ myself along. It was awkward and slow, but before I knew it, I was halfway ta land. So focused, I was on keepin’ myself goin’ that I almost missed the sound of the other prisoners’ shouts of encouragement. The others had noticed my escape.

“What do they think they’re doin?!” I hissed under my breath. “I bet they don’ have two coin rattlin about in their brains between them.” Turnin’ in my seat, I slashed the air with my hand over my throat. “Shut it!” I snarled at them all, the wind stealin’ my words away. “If I get caught now, it’s done for us all.”

One of them caught on ta my signal and shut the rest up. I couldn’ tell who it was. Satisfied, I moved again, growin’ tenser the closer I got ta the cliff’s edge. I knew just because I was about ta be on solid ground, that didn’ mean I was safe. If my luck didn’ hold, any of the bandits could catch me.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The dark thoughts didn’ stop me. I was too close ta land ta even think about how tired I was, havin’ made it this far. As soon as I was close enough, I lunged for the cliff’s edge and almost slipped off the side. I scramble about, clawin’ and kickin’ the dirt ta get traction enough ta climb the rest of the way up. When I finally made it I collapsed, breathin’ hard and just stunned that I had somehow done it.

I was free.

I lay in the grass, feelin’ the sun and wind lick at the sweat coatin’ my dark skin. Only after I had caught my breath did I push myself up ta look at the next challenge. There were five cages still over the river. I thanked the gods’ teeth. Only three were bein’ used. I didn’ think I had the strength ta get them all ta shore. I honestly wasn’ sure I could get the three over, but if I got one, the other prisoners could help me.

That bein’ the most positive thought I’d had, I pulled myself up ta my feet, ignored my shaky muscles, and started up the overgrown path ta the first cage. There were two women inside, Mistress Harty, and a younger, pudgy girl that had ta be her daughter. I wasn’ sure what her name was, but it didn’ matter. I didn’ come over ta chatter.

“Well done, boy,” Mistress Harty called ta me. She still didn’ know my name. “Be quick now. Get us free.”

“I’m workin’ on it. Keep ya skirts on,” I answered, though I put a little more hop ta my step. I had ta spend several long minutes figurin’ out the pulley system before untyin’ the rope so I could wrap it around a tree for leverage. I put my weight into it, liftin’ the rope over my shoulder and pullin’ with all my might. It was slow, achingly so, but it moved. I didn’ stop until I had pulled the cage onto land and the door opened.

I’d reached my limit, though, and collapsed right after. Once I sat, I couldn’ muster the energy ta move my rump again even if a bull were ta charge at me.

“That’s a lad,” Mistress Harty said, comin’ over ta check on me. She pulled my head up and turned it this way and that ta check my bumps and scrapes before pattin’ my shoulder. “Rest up, then. We’ll free the others.”

I just nodded, no energy ta even speak. I couldn’ remember bein’ so tired. If I could, I’d have fallen asleep there, but knowin’ we weren’ out of the thick of it yet, I turned my crystal blue eyes up the path instead. I would keep a lookout while they worked. My sight might have failed Rueln, but this much I could do.

I tried ta resist blinkin’, my eyes locked on the trees between us and the bandit camp. Occasionally I could see movement, one man walkin’ around or disappearin’ into a tent, but my eyes didn’ warn me of anythin’. There was no glow ta signify somethin’ was about ta happen. That didn’ bring any sense of relief ta me. Glancin’ back ta the others, I saw a second cage was on land, and they were workin’ on the third.

Swallowin’ down my nerves, I turned back and rubbed at my arms as I strained my eyes again. Any minute, the cage would be on land and we could leave. We were so close ta escapin.

“Come on,” I muttered, my leg shakin’ with anxious energy ta move. “Come on...” I glanced back again at the others, then returned ta watchin the camp, only ta stiffen. For just a moment, I saw someone glowin’ before I lost ‘em again. Instinctively, I bent and picked up the first stick I could find, grippin’ it in my hands as if they’d burst from the trees and attack any second.

Lickin’ my dry lips, I tried ta decide if it would do any good ta warn the others. No one here knew I had the Sight. They would have no reason ta trust a kid like me, but I knew I had ta do somethin’. “Hurry it up,” I said, my unease seepin’ into my voice. “Somethin’s comin’.” It was a vague warnin’, but maybe it’d do the trick.

The voices of the merchant crew rose behind me, urgin’ each other on, but there was only so much they could do. The cages were large and difficult ta drag up onto land. I still wasn’ completely sure how I had managed it alone.

I was so focused on the bandit camp, I almost missed a second glowing form comin’ from up the hillside. I barely turned my gaze ta it when shouts echoed through the trees as the bandit camp came alive ta meet the threat. For a heartbeat, I let myself think they were here ta save us, that we would make it out alive. My hope was fleetin’. The bandit I had spotted glowing first ran out of the camp and into the trees toward us.

My heart jumped into my throat. “They’re comin’!” I yelled, stumblin’ ta my feet and runnin toward the others just as they pulled the last person out of the cage and kicked the thing back off the cliff.

The adults ran, Mistress Harty urgin’ me ta run faster. I tried. By all the gods and lords I tried, but I knew after only a few hundred feet tha we weren’ goin ta make it. Starved, thirsty, and injured, many of us didn’ stand a chance. As soon as I heard the shouts of alarm from the bandit that we had escaped, I knew more would follow him.

An arrow flew past me, hittin’ one of the caravan’s sentries. He fell in front of me and lay still, givin’ me no time ta dodge him. I stumbled, trippin’ over the body, and fell hard on the mossy ground. Rocks and sticks cut up my hands and tore at my clothes ta get at my knees and arms. I rolled, takin’ one of Master Esra’s first lessons ta heart, continuin’ the motion of the fall ta get myself back ta my feet.

An arrow thundered into the earth inches from my hand. “Get the boy, Hagar,” ordered the archer, continuin’ past me after the others who had kept goin’, not realizin’ I had fallen. “He’s still worth a few gold. We’ll sell him off and get out of here.”

For a moment, I froze, fear lockin’ my limbs as I stared at the men. I hadn’ seen the archer… He came from nowhere. When had he followed us? I had only seen…

The second man huffed, the blue glow that surrounded him alight behind my eyes. My hand tightened around the stick I still held. As the glowin’ figure came toward me, his face screwed up with annoyance. I yelled and swung my weapon as hard as I could, feelin’ the wood hit solidly against the man’s hand. He cursed and kicked at me, but I rolled, jumpin’ ta my feet and turnin’ ta swing a second time.

I refused ta be taken again.

I wasn’ great with my weapon. I could swing it around and miss, but it would keep him away. The wooden stick flailed through the air, hittin’ anythin and everythin’ I could. I didn’ care if it was his head, his hand, or the sack between his legs, I ran around like dogs were after my hide and hit everythin’. It took everythin’ I had ta keep out of the bandit’s hands and out of the reach of his weapon. I knew I was alone, and that I could only play this game for so long, but what choice did I have?

Outrunnin’ him was an option, but it would take one throw of his ax and I would be just as dead as the man with the arrow in his back. I couldn’ win. I couldn’ stay, I couldn’ flee, and I was already tired. Each time the man grabbed for me, he got closer.

“AHH!” I screamed, swingin’ my stick like a club, wildly aimin’ for his face.

Finally tired of me, he snatched it from my hands and tossed it away, leavin’ me defenseless. Before I could try ta run again, the man grabbed me by my shirt and jerked me off my feet into the air. His breath was heavy from the wine he and his friends had drunk that mornin, makin’ my nose sting. I struggled, my small hands tryin’ ta pry him loose with no luck.

“Let go of me, ya rotten piece of cow pie!” I yelled, kickin’ and writhin’ in my shirt, doin’ everything I could ta free myself.

“That’s enough, lad,” the bandit snapped, spittin’ at my insult. The next thing I knew, he threw me onto the ground and was holdin’ me down, his ax at my throat. I went still, terrified by the cold iron pressed against my flesh, but I had enough in me left ta glare at him. “Ya lucky yer worth a few gold or I’d gut ya here and now.” There was movement behind him, and the sound of a branch breakin’ under a heavy boot. “What the—” the bandit turned, met a sword, nearly severin’ his head from his shoulders.

I stared up at Master Esra, dried blood stainin’ her armor, and a few wounds here and there, but whole. She kicked the bandit’s body off me and helped me up, but I was faster. I nearly tackled her. I was so grateful ta see her. Wrappin’ my arms around her waist, the fight went out of me like a wet rag. My knees buckled, forcin’ her ta catch me as I cried.

“Master!”

“I’m here,” she murmured, huggin’ me back. “I’m here. Hush now. It’s alright.” I didn’ listen, her soothin’ words only makin all the emotions I had held back come bubblin ta the surface in a flood of tears and snot.

“No, it’s not!” I cried into her shirt. “It’s not! Rueln’s dead, Master! He’s dead! It’s my fault, and he’s dead!”

Master Esra stiffened, then her arms grew tighter around me. “No, dear boy. Whatever happened, it’s not your fault. Don’t ever think that.” Slowly she pulled away, holdin’ me at arm’s length ta meet my eyes. I wiped at my nose, little good that it did. “Now, tell me what happened.”