The following days were quite hectic. There was going to be an event of some kind, and the boss had many messages for me to pass on, but I didn't put enough attention to understand specifically what they were talking about. The usual guard that escorted me to my duties had been coming earlier than usual, and by the end of the day I was led to my cell, exhausted. It was not that the tasks were tiring on themselves, but visiting different parts of the tower and seeing faces of people that I helped get locked up always took a toll on me. Most of the times, people on the cages would spit at me, or curse me when I walked by. Understandable, of course. To them, I'm as bad as the guards, if not worse. I deserve everything they throw at me and more, but I can't stop to apologise, as no words can make up for what I did to them. I can only continue with my work.
Saphir, in contrast, seemed to be in good health as I had not seen her lately; she had been working in the infirmary for days. I was aware that she often stayed up all night working there, yet I couldn't stop worrying. What if something else happened? What if Weird Eyes decided she'd made a mistake and took her to the dungeons? Those nights passed slowly and torturously, as I thought of the myriad of things that could have gone wrong. Near dawn, however, her tired face would appear behind the door, easing my worries away until the next absence.
I've never told her how much I miss her when she doesn't show up at night, or that her endless rambling about botanical medicine soothes me, despite my complaints. Just as she hasn't told me that, despite hating that I never make my bed in the morning, or the silly arguments we have all the time, she enjoys our chess games as much as I do. Gratefulness is not a feeling I typically dive into while here, but if anything, I'm happy to have her in my life.
It was probably around two in the morning, the chilling yet damp breeze hinting that a storm menaced to emerge in any moment. I was thinking about how much I missed feeling the rain on my face, when I heard the familiar rattle of chains and lift my head from the pillow. The candle lights barely illuminate the entrance, where Saphir greets me, an uncharacteristic ear-to-ear grin on her face.
"You're awake, great."
"Why so happy?" I say, confused.
Still smiling, she approaches my bed, "I've been working on a plan."
I raise a brown. The glint on her eyes sends a shiver down my spine.
She seems a bit irritated by my ignorance, though the excitement in her voice is still palpable, "To get out of here. To be free."
"You must have a temperature again." I belly laugh, expecting her to drop the silly act.
Yet...she seems impervious to my reaction.
"You are kidding right?" I try again, "What, you found the door with the exit letters above?"
Head lifted high, exposing the bit of her neck where feathers meet smooth, blue skin, Saphir's face gives me the usual brash raised brown as she sits on the side of my bed. "There is no door with exit letters, silly."
I roll my eyes at her stupidity, or mine for not foreseeing this outcome, as I rub my hands down my grey trousers.
Saphir continues, oblivious to my frustration, "Listen. You cannot resist this place for much longer, and to honest, neither can I-"
"You know what will happen if it goes wrong," a whisper escapes my lips. It had been almost automatic. It's the phrase that snaps me out of every plan I had devised these past years. I wouldn't get killed, thanks to whatever arrangement my father had made, maybe beaten a bit, but what about Saphir? I didn't have to worry about my friends being killed in other institutions, that was something new. And it paralysed me.
She let out an annoyed huff, "Could you, please, stop interrupting me?"
After a brief pause, she continues, "I have been here for far longer than you, and I have accepted my fate; my purpose was fulfilled when my country won the war."
She tenderly places a hand on my shoulder when she sees me shudder, "You still have a life ahead of you. I've been thinking, and there is nothing stopping us, really."
I could see the logic behind her words. She was right, there is nothing truly stopping me from risking my life. In another life, before this, I had many ambitions; I had wanted to see father's bitterness at his defeat, to finally sail the seas now that I was old enough, to see my brother again, to live the adventures I had only experienced in fictional books. Now? All those things no longer carried any weight, the only reason I had to stay in place was to spare Saphir from any punishment. But still, there was something that bothered me.
"Why now?"
Her lips pucker into a line, "How perceptive," she lets out with a strained laugh. "Well, the thing is..."
Time seems to asphyxiate me as I wait for her to choose the words. "What? Spit it out."
"I... I'm dying."
Confusion floods my mind. I squint: Somewhere between the words leaving her mouth and reaching my brain, there must have been a mistake. Was this a joke? She had been doing great these days. And yes, her feathers still look a bit pale, and there are traces of restlessness on her face, but dying? It can't be true.
Saphir seems to notice my disbelief, "The fever, and the other symptoms, I will not be around for much longer."
"But-but you said you were better, that it was just a virus," my shacky voice retorts.
"I thought so, at first. But I made some tests. I have a few weeks, at best."
I went silent. The air in the room felt cold and thick; the atmosphere seemed to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation and adjust accordingly. My emotions were overwhelming, there were so many things I wanted to say, yet I remained quiet, the words stuck in my throat. I threw myself to her arms, enclosing her torso in a hug, and she hugged me back. Her chin resting on my head, her silver hair falling silky and blending gracefully with my golden curls.
We stood like that for a long time, until she spoke.
"Don't worry about it," she sweetly said, "It's fine."
It's fine? Her expression was pure calm, almost happy. She seemed to have accepted the future without struggle. Knowing her, there's probably nothing that can save her, or she would have already attempted it. Still, just like that? News told so matter-of-factly, as if it wasn't a dagger to the heart. If she had told me the world was going to end, it would have been less heart wrenching.
A ridiculous whisper fled my lips, "I don't want you to..."
"I made my peace already." She stated, "though I have one last wish. Will you help me?"
I nodded, my head still buried on the feathers of her chest.
"Then we are breaking out, tonight."
-----------
"This way" I whisper, pointing down the corridor that leads to the boss' office. Saphir follows close behind me, not making a sound.
I had walked this floor a thousand times before, but never had it seemed as exciting as it did tonight. I had made my best to bury all thoughts about Saphir's fate until after we get out, and in their place, I managed to focus on the task at hand, which allowed me to feel thrilled: The air was dense, as if it could be cut with a knife, putting me on my toes, but I could not deny that deep inside I rejoiced with the illusion of finally being free.
We had already gone farther than I could ever imagine. Saphir had mixed some vials and created a purple liquid that destroyed the lock of doors when poured inside, and we had slipped past the guards thanks to my directions. Right now, we were almost out. The boss' office had a long window, and Saphir had explained to me that we could just fly away if we found the keys to her sea stone handcuffs.
The plan was simple enough. And she had even thought about where to go after we got out: According to her, there is a man living on the mountains of this island who will absolutely take us in once she shows him her necklace. The golden medal tied to the lace had the symbol of the royal guard of her country. Apparently, Saphir heard a rumour that a well-known warrior from her homeland had settled here years ago. It was a bit of a wild guess, but if this warrior was still around, they may even be able to cure Saphir's life, or so I secretly hoped.
All my determination crumbled when we get to the door, though. A shiver run down my spine at the sight of the knob. How do we know there is no one inside?
Before opening the door, Saphir reassured me, "He is attending a feast for his birthday. A guard in the infirmary was boasting about it."
"But what if..."
She took her index to her mouth and pull the knob.
The door opened, revealing the familiar scenery: a wooden desk, a chair, and behind wine-coloured curtains, a colossal-arched window, reaching up to the ceiling, opening onto a small stone balcony.
I could hear Saphir gasping at the sight, jaw dropping in awe. The were no many windows in the tower. I let her have her moment before we both get to work. My first instinct was to search the desk for the keys. She headed for the bookcase on the wall. I had been here countless of times, always with my head down, accepting the messages and letters the man sat on the desk gave me, and I had never seen any keys lying around. Of course, I had never had the opportunity to vandalize the place at pleasure.
"What now?" I scowl.
An hour had passed, but after tearing the place down, the keys were nowhere to be seen. The panic I had buried was resurfacing, making me second guess my decisions for the night.
"Well, plan B; let's find a rope or something to get down," her resolve, in contrast, was intact.
"There are guards on the entrance below."
"We will see what to do after we go down," she plainly said, "I will search that for a weapon." She pointed at a half wall that hid a giant glazed showcase with several ornaments, medals, and awards. Awards for what, was something that eluded me. Getting the front row in hell, maybe.
Every now and then we would throw glances at each other to keep our spirits up, muttering "I think this might work", "you are doing great", "we'll leave tonight", among other words of affirmation. As I was finishing ting the curtains to the railing of the balcony, I sensed a presence behind me. A threatening presence. I swallowed hard as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up in horror.
With slow movements, I turned on my toes and faced the dark figure looming in front of me. The owner of the office remained motionless, his eyes serious, regardless of the grin on his lips. I begin to step back in fear, tripping with curtain. Before I fall, though, he catches my arm and pulls me towards him, a motion that has me almost fainting.
"You should be more careful; it would be a pity to tarnish such beauty with a clumsy mistake."
If that was a compliment, I understand why he has to buy girls instead of dating. Puns aside, his grip on my skin is harsh and, coupled with the terror I feel at having him so close, I can't help but be at his mercy.
I stand petrified as his eyes examine me, the position making me understand what butterflies must feel when dissected and pinned into frames.
"They guys really outdid themselves this year," he says as he runs his tongue across his mouth, "The perfect birthday gift."
The hand that gripped my arm now presses my back towards him. I try to resist his advances as best I can, though his strength renders my efforts futile. For a moment, however, his pull seems to weaken. A chuckle spreads across his mouth, as he asks mischievously, "You're already taken, though, aren't you?"
I wouldn't have been able to articulate a response if I had tried. Panic being the main driver of my body, I collapse on the floor, freeing my body from his grasp thanks to his sudden hesitation, and frantically crawl backwards, without turning my back on him.
With wide strides, however, he closes the distance I managed between us and lifts me off the ground with a single hand, seizing me from my neck. As he strangles me and tears form in my eyes, I wonder where the fuck Saphir is. In the heat of the struggle though, I notice a slim blue silhouette coming from behind Djaevel.
"Let her go, or I shoot," Saphir sharply commands. I could not see her from my position, but it seemed that Saphir was pressing a gun to his back. The man stood confused for a moment, his hands still on my neck.
"Let her go," she repeated.
"Oh, Saphir, is it?" he said as he raised his hands, releasing my bruised neck. I stumbled to the ground, as a coughing fit kicked in.
With the same tone of feigned politeness, he asked "are you here for my birthday as well?"
His questions went completely unheeded as Saphir's concerned tone was directed at me, "Are you okay?"
I nod my head, still on the ground, trying to get the coughing to stop. As I calm down and stand up, Djaevel keeps up his stupid babbling.
"Ungrateful brats, I let you have all the commodities, all the medical equipment you wanted, and this is how you pay me back?" he accompanied his monologue with dramatic gestures, as if someone in the room gave a fuck, "Beasts will be beasts. It is my fault, really. I should've known better."
Saphir, who had been patiently waiting he finished, still with the gun at his back, inquired, "May you tell us where the keys to my chains are?"
He snorted and burst out laughing, "The keys? Oh, I'm sorry. Did you think I had the keys?"
He didn't seem to recognise the gravity of his predicament. I almost wished Saphir would pull the trigger right there, at least to wipe the snobbery off his face.
"Where are they?" I spat, my voice almost a shout.
"The keys are stored outside the tower, in a storeroom, of course. So there's no one to try and sneak in," he explained, his tone distinctly mocking.
My blood was boiling. The thought of shooting him tempted me again, but right now we had bigger problems. I looked at Saphir, who remained calm and still. Her determination was not so much reassuring as it was unnerving at this point. My eyes sent her the implicit question "What now?"
She understood in an instant, of course, the art of silent communication being one of the things conceived in our time together. "Here," she tossed me her gold medal. "Go," she pointed at the balcony with her head. "I'll create a distraction for the guards."
"What? "No! I'm not going without you," I whimpered. What is the point in escaping without her? We came together, we leave together. I wouldn't be able to live with myself otherwise. "C'mon, shoot him, we can deal with the guards."
"There is no time to discuss this, I'm done for anyway, remember?" she said, "I want you to live, that's my last wish."
"But you said- "
"I know-"
Saphir had invested too much of her attention on me. The man, taking advantage, turned and hit her in the chest with his elbow, causing her to scream and fall to the floor. The weapon still flying in the air, I rush towards him, instinctively protecting my friend. My nails dig into his arm, and, despite the height difference, I manage to knock him off balance with a kick. Unfortunately, I don't have a chance to relish in the sound of his pain before a fist launches a sharp pain through my ribs. I curse under my breath as I get back on my feet, savouring the familiar metal taste of blood in my mouth. I dodge a couple of blows, but the third one leaves me gasping for air. The next seconds are pure pain. Saphir and I struggle with all our might to break free of him, but the man easily beats us both in strength and speed.
A pained scream escapes me as I feel a boot slam into my battered chest, sending me flying against the window. The rain of glass is the icing on the cake. With difficulty I manage to raise my arms in defence, but my body is too damaged to do much more than that. I hear Saphir's groans, still in the grip of the beast, and above them Djaevel's voice, as arrogant as usual.
"Oh my," he says, "well played. I must admit you got me there." He had one of his boots on top of her, pinning her to the floor. In his right hand, a small silver tube-shaped object. The pain doesn't let me focus properly to see what it really was.
He continued talking, "You used my beloved prize from the Sabaody Association as a fake gun, clever girl."
His voice was light-hearted, but as he said it he lifted the leg he was pressing against her and stomped on her chest once more. Saphir's screams tore at my soul. I had to do something, but my body didn't seem to cooperate. Slowly, I use the window frame as a support to silently pull myself up as they talked.
"Yes, I apologize for the deception: I couldn't find a real one," I hear her say, still civil despite her state. The courtesy of their conversation seemed bizarre in this situation.
She squirms in pain, as the man puts more pressure on her chest. "I'm going to have your head for this," he mutters.
Saphir continues talking, not minding the direct threat, "However, I did find something of use in one of your chests. I had to break it open, sorry."
There was a hint of something similar to delight in her voice that made me stop and raise my head to where she was standing. From her pocket, Saphir had retrieved a small object, about the size of her hand, round and dark green. No matter how hard I try, though, I can't make out what it is from where I am, until...
"A grenade?" Djaevel groans in shock. His cool demeaner replaced by sheer panic. "How the fuck-
"I am sure that an explosion will stir things up just enough to get out unnoticed," she calmly points out. Djaevel froze in place for a second, before he stuttered something intelligible. Saphir, looking straight at the man, removes the safety pin from the bomb.
"My grip is the only thing preventing the detonation now. Please, don't do anything stupid or I'll let the trigger go. My friend is at the door, so there is nothing is stopping me to blow us up."
The man turned pale and seemed unable to move. I know I said I wanted to erase the smugness from his face, but not like this. I was as pale as Djaevel.
"Wait, Saphir, don't!" I plead.
From the other side of the room, she faces me, her body still pinned to the ground. The bomb in her grip, yet she is beaming like a child. "Hey! Do me a favour and live, okay?"
I hear my voice begging her not to do it, over and over. But there was that calmness in her eyes again, and I understood; she had had probably never thought of leaving this place with me. Tears blur my vision.
"And start making your bed in the morning, for the love of God," she chirps.
"Wait-" I didn't get a step in her direction before a barrage of flames blocked my vision. The first thing I felt was an acute dull thump in the centre of my chest, leaving gasping for air. An invisible wave of heat threw me backwards at an insane speed. The world seemed to be suddenly engulfed in flames and smoke, and there was a horrific orchestra of screams and cries above all. The window behind me was gone in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it I was flying through the building. I frantically grabbed at the air, looking for something to break my fall. I grabbed the fabric of the curtain, a few metres before I hit the ground, and clung to it with my life. The impact with the floor took me by surprise but it was welcome.
As I stand, still hugging the makeshift rope, I tilt my head upwards. The roof of the tower is gone, the balcony door is gone. I don't know how I'm still alive. It is then that I realise that I am alive. And I'm probably wanted.
I look around: The guards are nowhere to be seen, but they're sure to come as soon as the debris stops falling. Against all odds, one step leads to another, and suddenly I find myself crossing the clearing to reach the depths of the forest. Soon I pass the first trees, but I keep running, fuelled by the adrenaline that numbs the pain. I need to put as many miles as possible between me and that place before I collapse. In the distance, I can hear voices and screams, the confusion that followed the explosion.
Without looking back, I continue straight ahead. After what seemed hours, though, I can feel the strength leaving my body. Soon, my running turns into a jog, and soon after into a faltering walk. Strong gusts of wind whip through the trees, and several flashes of lightning peek through the branches above. As much as I want to take shelter, I feel my eyes closing, defeated; I don't have energy left to continue. The wind feels stronger and stronger, and in the back of my mind I worry that maybe a hurricane is approaching. However, the last thought that comes to me before letting go of my consciousness is a blue feathered girls' smile.
...
I have a formed idea of how this story will go. This first part is more about suffering than anything else, but I promise it gets better.
I would love reading your comments.