Pain. Sometimes, when the guards forgot to relight the lamps outside her cell, it and the cold darkness were the only friends that paid her a visit. There were times when it was like an all-consuming fire toying with her body, and others it was an ember, lurking eternally beneath her skin, waiting for the right hand to feed it. Tonight—or today, for all she knew in the everlasting midnight of the dungeons—it was somewhere in between. It prickled at her left leg and arm, and crawled up toward her neckline. It feasted savagely on the right side of her body from the center of her stomach to her spine, working its way down the side of her leg. It blazed the worst from just above her hip downward courtesy of the newest additions the Sages had recently added to their experiment.
Thea lay in the darkness, her gaze staring unseeingly toward the ceiling she had long since memorized every crack of. The lamps outside had flickered out an eternity ago, though, she supposed, it could have only been a few minutes. Time was cruel like that. Minutes passed by in years when you wished something would end, yet years flew in minutes when all you wanted was for life to slow down. Here, it was only worse, as if even it was on the Sages’ side. In a place without even the thinnest sliver of daylight to judge it by, it slunk through the halls and cells, passing with malicious, excruciating slothfulness.
She inhaled slowly, each breath exciting the burning pain in her side, and tried to focus on something else. With her jumbled memories useless, leaving her with not even her own name to dwell on, she shut her eyes, clenched her teeth, and listened.
It was always chilly in the dungeons, but she had grown used to that. Even the dank smell of the stale air filled with the stench of death and decay had lost its pungency to her. Water dripped somewhere in the distance, echoing loudly as it drummed out an uneven rhythm. The gentle scurrying of rodents passed through the hall and occasionally within her cell, looking for food. A rat sniffled beneath her hard cot, and she wondered if it was Terrain, the rat she had been sharing her meals with for a while now. She always knew it was him, with his missing ear and scarred body. The creature had begun to trust her, perhaps because it sensed a kindred spirit, becoming, she supposed, her only tangible friend in this place of suffering and death.
She took a startled breath, wincing and hissing through her teeth as it irked her body, when the all too familiar sound of screams sliced through the silence. Screams of pure agony. Screams she knew the meaning of all too well. The distance between her cell and the lab did little do muffle them. They belonged to a man, likely the one who had been shouting profanities at the guards nonstop earlier that day. She must have been unconscious when they took him away, but it would explain the quiet that had settled in his cell.
The Sages were at it again, trying to replicate the success they had had with her.
A nauseating pit formed in her stomach. Not because of the man’s screams, but because she was glad. Glad that, for the time being, it was not her, and hoping it would work so they would have someone else to torture for a while in her place. Her hands clenched, sending a spike of pain shooting up her left arm, but she ignored it. Deep down, she knew that thought was wrong, that at one point in time, it would never have crossed her mind. But the more she tried to remember who she was, who it was that would have cringed at such a thought, the harder her head began to throb.
Inevitably, the screams cut off as suddenly as they had begun. A sickening silence filled the halls once more, broken only by the confused dripping from a source Thea was content with not knowing.
The Sages’ experiment had failed.
Thea swallowed hard and took a shaky breath at the silence of her hopes being dashed. The Sages were always that much more brutal with her after a failure. Still, a small voice swirled in the back of her mind, filled with sorrow for the man and the family he had been stolen from. Though her first few weeks there were one large, jumbled blur to her, she could never forget how the Sages tested her "compatibility" with their plans, no matter how hard she tried. Though she wished the man had made it for selfish reasons, it was not a death she would will on anyone.
Soon, she promised herself. I’ll do it soon.
For the last… well, she could not say, but however long it had been, she had begun to downplay her strength as much as she could. She would need the element of surprise if she was ever to have even a faint chance at escaping.
Her eyes snapped open and her heart quickened as it always did at the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Thea knew the guard’s patterns by heart; it was too early for their usual patrol, and they had stopped dragging the corpses past her doorway somewhere around a couple months after her arrival. Or perhaps it had been years.
Doubting they would take the time to go out of their way to relight the lamps, she held her breath, staring into the darkness as the flicker of firelight filtered in through the barred window in the heavyset door of her cell. It was about time, she supposed, for a “training session” with the Mage. They followed the Sages’ work on her almost as predictably as the guards’ patrols.
She squinted when someone held a lamp up beside the window, the light cascading over the half of her in its path. It glinted off what looked like a thin gauntlet elegantly conformed to her left arm, looking as if she had simply slipped on a metal glove with plates of a gold color and various shades of bronze. The gauntlet covered her fingers and rose to the base of her neck where its thin metal visibly merge with her skin, nothing visible keeping it in place. An opalescent sheen coating the apparent metal shone as the firelight flickered, hitting it just right, the color also creating a haze over her gold-flecked eyes as she turned her head slowly to look to the door.
“You still alive in there?” the guard wheezed mockingly though the bars in his familiar, irritatingly squeaky voice, his head nothing but a dark shadow on the other side of the door.
“You still a Mage reject out there, Gaillard?” she bit through her teeth, her own voice hardened in pain and horse from its rare use—in conversation, at least.
Gaillard snarled. Whether from her comment, that she had picked up his name, or both, she could not say, but he lowered his lantern and jerked his head up in a nod to someone beside him.
The dark outline of another guard appeared. One with magic, she deducted, as the sound of locks sliding back echoed through the door.
Thea tensed, trying to mentally prepare herself to move as Gaillard used his own special key to finish unlocking the door. The Sages took no shortcuts in making sure she stayed put. They often even moved her between cellblocks, which was one thing she had yet to find a pattern in. That, and when they remembered she needed food. As far as she could tell, they moved her at random through the massive place, but they had unwittingly let her become familiar with both some of the layout of her prison, and the guard’s routines in more than one area.
Slowly, she moved her right arm behind her, the skin around her wrist still red and raw from pulling against the binds that had held her in the Sages’ lab. Her body always felt that much heavier when she tried to move after being still for so long.
Gaillard pushed the door open. “Up with you, you little brat.” He spat on the ground at his feet as he stood in the doorway, glowering down at her. The fresh stubble of a beard had begun to sprout from his pointed chin, and a tribal patterned tattoo circled his neck.
Knowing it would be futile to try resisting, she clenched her teeth and suppressed a moan as she managed to put weight on her right arm and lift herself up, the embers ever waiting inside her waking up. The flames already gnawing on her side decided to chew with more vigor, making her give something between a loud groan and hissing shout.
She could practically feel Gaillard’s smirk as she struggled simply to sit up.
“So, what?” she asked almost breathlessly as she tried to let her body adjust to being used, wanting to wipe that expression from his face. “They don’t have anything more fitting for a reject to do than crawl around a dungeon like the pathetic worm he is?”
On the bright side, it worked; his smirk turned into an angered snarl. On the bad side, he thrust the lamp into the other guard’s chest, who fumbled with it before catching it, stormed over to Thea, gripped her, hard, between neck and left shoulder, and yanked her to her feet.
She staggered up and screamed through her teeth as the fire turned to a knife stabbing at her right side and legs. Her legs gave out at the sudden use, but what Gaillard lacked in magic, he made up for in strength. He kept her upright, his vice-like grip on her only adding an extra discomfort.
The other guard, his face hidden behind a silvery helmet branded with the insignia she saw everywhere here of a savage-looking, two-headed eagle, gripped her right arm, his bulky gauntlet rough and cold against her skin. For a moment, she hung limply between them, breathing hard through clenched teeth from a mix of anger, hatred, and pain.
The nightdress she wore with its thin straps in place of sleeves hung loosely from her pale, sun-deprived body. Dirt, dust, and blood, both dried and some still damp around her right side, stained the once white fabric. Her long hair hung around her face, dark circles beneath her eyes and her cheeks a bit sunken, the tangled mess of the red strands only enhancing her pitiful, emaciated appearance.
Finally, her muscles seemed to remember how to work, and she slowly supported her own weight. The chill of the stone floor beneath her bare feet made her shiver slightly.
The guards hauled her out of the cell, and she let them support some of her weight between them. The intense ache infesting even her bones always eased a bit once she got moving, at least enough to be on the verge of bearable, but she was not about to show her captors that. Not yet, at least. For now, she stumbled along between them, playing the helpless little princess in need of rescuing.
The thought struck a chord somewhere inside her, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving her to wonder what kinds of pathetic books she must have once read about kidnapped princesses being rescued by their knight in shining armor.
“I quite like this job,” Gaillard began, the squeak in his voice lessening its desired, threatening effect. His dark blue eyes made up for the lack of menace in his voice, glittering maliciously.
He leaned in a bit closer to her, readjusting his grip. Thea could smell a hint of ale on his breath, but it was not enough to mask its usual stench, as if he was rotting from the inside out. “My favorite part is getting to hear your screams and pleas for them to stop. This place wouldn’t be the same without them. But since you’re feeling so talkative, I’d love to know what it is they do in there.”
To Gaillard’s amusement, her hands clenched and she looked away, in part to avoid breathing in his breath, but mostly to keep him from seeing the fear she knew shone in her eyes.
She swallowed, trying to not think about the answer to his request. “Sure.” Her voice trembled slightly. “But only once you figure out what a toothbrush is and stop eating skunk butts for lunch.”
A snigger burst from the guard on her right, but Gaillard snarled and forced them to a halt. She looked over as she felt him turn, and tried to pull away when he reached to draw a dagger hanging at his right hip.
“Gaillard!” the second guard growled. His voice was deep and imposing, filled with life and authority.
What unnerved Thea about it was that it was an unfamiliar voice. She had heard at least every guard speak on their rounds. She knew which ones came when. She had timed them. She knew exactly how many steps it took for each of them to walk the hall leading to her cell. She had listened to their hushed conversations, making note of every voice, every tone that echoed through the dungeons. After all, there was little else for her to use to attempt keeping her sanity. But she had never heard his voice before, and the Sages did not strike her as the kind of people to bring in new guards unless it was absolutely necessary.
“We have our orders!” the guard barked. “Harm her, and I’ll skin you myself. Then we’ll see whose screams these walls hear tonight.”
Despite herself, she smirked. If he wasn’t one of the Sages’ men, she would have said she almost liked this guard.
Gaillard glared at his companion so hard she was surprised the other guard’s head did not explode. Reluctantly, he released his tight grip on the dagger, his eyes burning with fury. With a snort, he jerked her forward, making her stumble with a shout, and their procession continued.
Just before they reached where the cellblock branched off into three other corridors, lit lamps began to line the halls, hanging from ironwork sconces. To the left were more cells. She started to angle herself toward the right as they neared, already visualizing the number of doors between her and the room the Sages enjoyed testing her abilities in.
“Wrong way, wretch.” Gaillard grinned down at her with dark glee, then pulled her to continue straight down the hall.
Her attention snapped to the hall ahead, terror quickening her heart and making her forget how to breathe. Her steps ceased and she shook her head with a quivering exhale.
“Don’t want to keep the Sages waiting,” Gaillard purred. “They’re already in a rather foul mood as it is. Wouldn’t want to make it worse, now, would you?”
The guards pulled her forward, not to the training room, but toward the lab and the Sages where they waited hungrily for their next victim, haunting her, torturing her even in the rare bit of true sleep she managed to get.

The first thing that made sense to his muddled  brain was sound.

The hoots of owls, birds chirping and little critters scurrying here and there.

A low throb along his entire body was the next to make itself known, heavy eyelids parted marginally to scan his surroundings. A snow-coverd forest floor met his gaze, the grassy smell of trees filling his nose. Blinking several times to focus as a stream of sunlight assulates his eyes, the young prince tries to remember anything. Nothing aside from blourry images comes to mind, his attention shifting when he catches the scent of old copper. Head tilting downwards he finds blood coating his fur, his eyes roam along his grey-black coat in search of injuries. What look like slashes  decorate his belly, his body tenses completly when he gets a good look at his hind legs.

It's oddly twisted and smelled of rotten flesh. Byrce noses at it gently and jolts back when it sends a wave of agony along his spine. Curling his lip in distaste the young prince tries to get to his feet, this forest wasn't familiar and it set him on edge. Slowly turning into his belly -a soft whine escaping him when his wounds touched the cool earth- Bryce locks his muscles and pushed himself upwards. Hallway up his legs qievered and gave out, Byrce falling ungracfully on his side. He lay still then for a few moments, every breath he took in or released felt like it was being forced out of his lungs. The world spun dangerously as he lay there, every muscles quivering just beneath the surface of his fur.

It was a long while before he tried to move again. Finding a tree that he could use as a guide, the young prince twisted onto his belly and began crawling toward it. Reaching it after having to stop once to catch his breath, Byrce felt his teeth and slowly hoisted himself upwards once more. He leaned heavily against the bark as he finally managed to stand upright, his chest heaving for air. Swallowing conclusively to keep the bile he could taste from leaving his mouth, the young prince shook his body once before taking a slow step forward. Two more and Bryce had to stop to keep himself from tipping forward, his stomach rolling unpleasantly.

He wouldn't make it home this way. Tipping his head back and inhaling carefully, Byrce released a long howl.  Grey-black tipped ears flicked as his howl echoed in the air, the breeze  that had picked up seemed to carry it further. No response had Byrce huffing a breath, his jaw locking as he placed a paw forward once more.

Night brought with it another threat. Hunger had crept up on him sometime ago, he had ignored it in favor of making progress. Now that he'd stopped at a small river for a drink, his forgotten hunger returned with a vengeance. Ears flicking at the sounds of far off heartbeats, he thought of his options. Head lifting to catch the scents on the air, Byrce stilled when he caught the scent of fresh blood. Turning in the direction he slowly made his way toward the smell, pain constantly running along his body. Stilling when a soft sound met his ears, Byrce lowered himself instinctively onto his belly. A female doe lay curled beside a large oak tree, a new fawn hungrily nursing at her side. Ears and nose working in synch to make sure she didn't smell him, Byrce closed his eyes and relaxed his body. A second later he was lunging forward with his jaws parted, pain forgotten as the need to eat filled his mind. Sometime later Byrce found himself at the edge of the forest, nose quivering as he tried to pick up any scents.

A small village lay before him, finding no new scents besides the faint smell of cattle Byrce moved forward. His ears flicked forward and back as he neared the closest cottage, golden eyes scanning the barn he found beside the darkened home. Finding a bundle of hay near the end of the barn, Byrce moved toward it and heavily collapsed into it.

"Look mama! A doggy!" A shrill squeak awoke Byrce from his slumber, a soft gasp altering him of someone else within the barn. Eyes squinting at the sunlight that shined directly in his eyes, Byrce found a mother and her child. Both had different expressions on their faces, the girl was curious while the mother was wary.

"Lily that's not a dog- No!" The mother shouted as her daughter -Lily- lunged toward him, she managed to catxh the excited child around her waist. Byrce watched as Lily squirmed in her mother's hold, his ears listening to their hearts.  He rose slowly and couldn't help the growl he released in the silence, both stilled at the sound before Lily began to squirm once more.

"Its hurt mama! Look at it's leg!" Lily shouted, Byrce paused at the words. He'd been curled up and had made sure to keep his injured leg hidden, how had she-? His head whirled backwards to check on his leg, only to find blood freely pouring from the gash he couldn't see because of his fur. The sound of whimpering had Byrce turning back to face the two still standing by the barn doors, Lily's mother looked paler then a few moments ago.

"Baby girl that's not a dog, I can't help it-" She began, only to pause mid-sentence when Lily finally escaped her hold and ran outside. Byrce remained standing, though every part of him wanted nothing more then for him to lay back done. The sound of thundering feet indicated Lily's return, what had Byrce tilting his head was the weird  thump, thump, thump that accompanied her.

"Then I will!" Lily shouted as she appeared once more, a large wooden box dragging behind her. He had to give her credit, she was a strong-willed girl. Seeing no threat besides a little girl wanting to help him, he lowered himaelf slowly into his belly once more. Eyes closing as soft whispers filled the air, Byrce focused on ignoring the prickle of the hay against his cuts. His head snapped up when he caught the smell of chicken, the mother was crouched before him with the piece hanging from her fingers.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I know a thing or two about patching up animals, take this as a piece offering?" She asked with a dark brow arching, Byrce shifted his gaze from her to the chicken. He could smell it now that she was closer, her scent was mixed with herbs like the healer he knew from the kingdom. He moved slowly and took the offering from her fingers, watching as she relaxed minutely. "Let's see what I can do, Lily should be back soon with more food." She said before opening the wooden box, Byrce huffed a breath and settled in to eat his chicken.

Twenty minutes later, Byrce was fighting to stay awake. Lily's mother -who he found out was named Isis when a neighbor arrived with Lily- had cleaned and patched up his wounds. He'd been given several treats while Isis had been working, Lily seeming not at all botherd by the fact that he was twice the size of a normal dog.  When the medical kit was closed and Isis was washing her hands, Byrce decided that leaving now was as good as any. Rising to his feet, he moved forward with stiff movements. "Wait! You can't go! We helped so you gotta stay here now! Right mama?" Byrce merely shook himself and exited the barn, pausing long enough to bow to Isis.

He had to get home now.

Taking off down the road, Byrce ignored the sobs he could hear from behind him. He had felt a pulse of warmth while getting treated, it was the first time since he'd woken up yeaterday that the Pack bond had flared to life. Two days later found Byrce standing atop the mountain that overlooked both kingdoms. As he's traveled to get home, the memories of what had happened had come rushing back. They'd been kidnapped and held hostage, though why he wasn't sure. Reaching the bottom of the hill he pushed his aching muscles forward, his mind focused on getting home and warning his parents of what had happened to him and Thea. Just as he reached the main gates, a strange and painful jolt traveled up his right hind leg. He ignored it and opened his jaws to bark, only no sound came from his throat.

Another jolt and darkness swam along his vision. Another and it felt like his head was about to explode. One last jolt and a gust of frigid air left his body, a howl left his throat as darkness swallowed him whole.

The last thing he heard were rising screams.

Time. It is a callous, fickle thing Thea was sure took pleasure in seeing the people wading through it suffer. Though it was nigh impossible to gauge how long had truly passed, at best, she figured no more than two days could have gone by since she last endured what inevitably lurked beyond the large, double doors of the massive lab. However long it really was, one thing was for sure: they had never brought her back so quickly.
Thea felt sick. She dragged her feet as the guards gripping her pulled her forward. Further down the hall lined with lamps, she could make out the corpse of a burly man discarded against the wall across from the door leading to the lab.
They had not even bothered to fully dispose of their most recent victim yet.
Thea scrunched her eyes shut and grit her teeth for a moment. She would not go back there. She had promised herself that much.
Gaillard jerked her forward, making her groan. “Hurry up!” His voice turned the last word into more of a squeal than a threat.
At last, her opportunity to escape drawing to a close with each passing moment, Gaillard moved his hand from her neck and swiftly slid it down her arm to grip the organic metal, ready to toss her inside the lab.
She let out a shaky exhale and opened her eyes. Her jaw set, and she tried to prepare herself for what she knew her next actions would cause her.
“Sorry, Skunk Breath,” she growled, a tremor sneaking into her voice, “but I’m done.”
Before the guards could fully register her words, Thea planted her feet firmly on the floor, hunched back, and yanked her arms back and down out of their tight grasps.
The unfamiliar guard’s gauntlet dug into the soft skin of her right arm as it pulled free, leaving white lines in their wake that bled where they intersected with her raw wrist. Her left came easily from Gaillard’s grip, the scrape of metal sliding against metal ringing around them. The moment she was free, she balled her left hand into a tight fist as Gaillard, cursing, reached for his sword.
Before he could back off enough to safely draw it, she slammed her fist into his face, the metal bulging slightly with the tensing of the muscles beneath.
No amount of mental preparation could have readied her for the pure, white-hot agony that exploded down her arm on impact. It radiated up to her neck and down her side, making her stomach churn, dark spots speckle her vision, and head pound with a vengeance. It felt like every bone in her arm had shattered. But she knew better. Her scream rang loud and shrill in her ears, echoing down the stone halls as Gaillard was sent sprawling back from the force of her attack, and smacked hard into the wall behind him. He slid to the floor with a clatter of armor against stone, either unconscious or dead, blood gushing from his crushed nose.
Body trembling and vision blurred, it took all her willpower to remain standing, each heavy, groaning breath escaping loudly through her clenched teeth. She turned on the second guard, who had backed away toward the lab door. The hazy sight of him swam in front of her, darkness toying dangerously across the edges of her vision.
With a quick glance to his fallen companion, the guard turned and bolted toward the lab.
Thea knew at least some of her limits. There was no way she could catch the guard, and even if she could, the Sages had likely heard her cry and would be there any moment. Without wasting a second, as soon as he turned his back, Thea ran as fast as her burning legs would carry her in the opposite direction, her right hand clutching her left arm to her side where it hung limply, fingers curled stiffly, claw-like.
Each step sent an angered stab through her side and weary legs. They threatened to give out each time her feet slapped against the rough floor, barely capable of holding her own weight, but dire necessity urged them on. If she was in the open when the guards came after her, that would be it. She could maybe outrun a caffeinated slug. And once the Sages got involved in the search…
The thought made her already queasy stomach threaten to empty itself. She did not want to even imagine what they would do to her if they found her. She needed to find somewhere to hide. And fast.
She turned down the corridor leading to the other cellblock. If she remembered right, there was a door there that did not need magic to open, and the only science necessary was the knowledge of how to turn a handle. As long as it was unlocked, that was.
Angered voices rose down the hall. Voices that made her blood run cold and her heart forget to beat.
“She WHAT?” the orotund, pompous voice of the Sage Scientist reverberated down the halls, the sound enough to make Thea’s knees at last give out.
She fell to the floor, hard. Her vision turned black for a precious second when her landing jarred her body, making the internal flames consume her. She clamped her mouth shut against the scream that tried to make its way out, but fear the Sages would hear and follow the echo to her was enough on its own to keep her suffering in silence.
“FIND HER!” the Sage Scientist roared. Thea was sure his words had carried to every part of the dungeon within a half mile radius.
Breathing heavily, her world spinning in a haze of grays, browns, and the glow of the lamps, she forced herself to her hands and knees. Her stomach lurched, and she swallowed back bile that burned in the back of her throat. She avoided using her left arm, every little twitch reminding her of the cost of her impromptu escape plan. If she could even call it a plan at this point. Part of the metal-like plates encompassing her left leg like a second skin from a couple inches atop her foot to where it extended beneath her nightdress scraped against the stone floor, making her flinch, but the Scientist’s voice carried over it.
“Bring her back. ALIVE!”
“But make it known,” the softer, yet sinister and chilling voice of the Sage Mage reached her. Thea had never been sure whether it was more feminine or masculine. “If anyone so much as scratches her, I’ll see to it personally their fate’s worse than that pathetic fool’s!”
Not sure if the Mage was implying Gaillard or the corpse of the Sages’ last victim, Thea managed to get to her feet. Trembling violently, every muscle and bone in her screaming in agonizing protest, she miraculously made it to the door to the clatter of guards’ feet from off in the distance as they rushed to see what had caused the Sages’ outburst.
The door was a rickety looking thing, its wood partially rotted out in the top corner. And probably the first place the guards would stop to look. But it was better than nothing, and she felt herself fading. She could not hold up much longer.
Holding her breath, she turned the knob and pushed the door open just far enough to slip inside. Once it closed behind her, she leaned against it carefully, momentary testing her weight on it before she slid to the floor with a soft groan, her face twisted in pain. She tried to listen as the footsteps grew nearer, confused voices of the guards running together in a disorientating jumble, but she could not focus on them, the sounds seeming distant in her ears.
She did not have the time to take in her new surroundings before unconsciousness won the fight she waged against it. As the guards passed obliviously by her hiding place, she slipped unwillingly into the familiar dark abyss of pain-induced slumber.

The sudden almost violent lurch of his stomach awoke Bryce with a jolt. His heavy head barely managing to turn away before it was emptied across the floor. Eyelids fluttering open after a few moments of simply breathing, Bryce finds metal bars and stone walls with torches decorating it before him. Darkness is parted with each flicker of flame, though it still wasn't enough to offer a proper light to see.

His vision swam as he tried to shift from where he lay on his side, golden eyes narrowing when not even a paw twitched. He could feel his muscles flexing under his fur, though no movement from any of his limbs happened. Byrce's lips parted into a silent snarl, his entire body stiffening moments later when the sound of soft footsteps echoed in the distance. His ears flicked forward as another sound filled the air, a slow rhythmic heartbeat that felt familiar to him. Heavy golden eyes open slowly, whatever energy he'd had before seemed gone. A silhouette stood before the bars that he couldn't reach, the scent of wildflowers invading the air and silencing the growl he hadn't been aware he'd been making.

"Oh my dear pup, what's been done to you?" Is whispered softly, Bryce's heavy eyes fall shut once more as a wave of pain races along his body. The lingering scent of copper clings to his fur, a sharp jolt racing along his side doesn't make sense to him. The feel of warm fingers caressing his paw has Bryce upright in seconds, teeth barred and hackles raised. The flickering flames allow him to distinguish long silver hair and a violet gown, pale skin and a matching pair of eyes finally drawing a picutre in Byrce's foggy mind. "It's alright, relax my pup." His grandmother Sylvia soothed as she continued to pet his paw, Byrce slowly convincing his body to relax when she makes no further moves. 

He must've fallen asleep after some time, when he wakes he finds his Grandmother gone. A plate of food is where she had been before, he makes no move to reach for it despite the aroma that wafts into the air. He cant tell time and after listening and hearing nothing other then his slow hearbeat, Bryce settles to sleep once more. He awakens to gentle fingers gliding along one of his hind paws, his whine is soothed by a gentle chuff before darkness takes him once more.

"They can't! He's just come home!" A voice hisses sharply, the spicy scent of anger reaching his nose. Quick footsteps are heading in his direction, another set that seem to drag a bit are close behind.

"Drea! We can't be down here! The only reason Grandmother was allowed was because-" Another voice respondes to the first, Byrce's eyes open as both stop before his cage. The heaviness that clings to him must be from the wolfsbane Bearded-man shot him with. Both silhouettes crouch down and for a moment silence fills the air, Bryce moves his head away so he's staring at the farthest wall.

"Where have you been By? Were you really the one that kidnapped Thea?" At the mention of his friend Byrce lifted his head and snapped his jaws. Both silhouettes startled at his reaction, the flickering flames showing him glimpses of features like they had his Grandmother. The shorest had short brown hair and slightly tanned skin, a white shirt and black pants accompanied with black boots. The other had silver hair and pale skin, a light blue gown were visible. Andrea reached forward hesitantly to glide her fingers along his paw, Isaac settling on the ground with crossed legs. 'I told you he'd never do that, the King has lost his mind." Andrea snapped with a shake of her head, Bryce merely flicking his ears.

"But why blame Bryce? He's just returned-" Isaac is cut off by the sound of footsteps echoing agaisnt the stone walls. Both still and listen, Byrce snorting softly as his Grandmother draws closer.

"That's exactly why Issac, he's just come back after so long missing. Not to mention what happened at the gates...the king is frantic as it is." His grandmother offers as she stops beside them, Byrce lifting his head as best he can at the last part. His mind refused to focus formore then a few seconds, head shaking as if to clear it Byrce chuffs softly in question. All three focus on him, Andrea drawing her hand away as she stands. 

"We'd better go back Izzy, mother will be searching for us soon." She says with a bow, Isaac gets to his feet as well after a moment pf hesitation. They wave goodbye and leave with whispers indicating their conversation, grandmother Sylvia settles on the floor where Issac had been.

"Something happened the moment you entered the grounds." She began softly, Bryce chuffing once to encourage her to continue. "We're not sure what caused it but your power began lashing out this way and that, your eyes clouded over and you just began attacking anyone ypu could. Before we knew it you were out cold and covered in new wounds." She finished with a frown on her lips, Byrce remained still as the words swam within the fog of his mind.

He could recall the sound of screaming.

The smell of fresh blood.

"There's...more my pup." His grandmother continued after several long beats of silence. "Thea's father has ordered for your death for kidnapping the princess. If we don't he'll declare war." Her tone was clipped and underlined with a snarl, Bryce felt panic beginning to claw at his stomach. It made sense if what he could remmeber coukd be trusted, he had after all been the last one with Thea aside from Zane. If what his grandmother was saying happened then all the more reason Thea's father would want his head, he couldn't have been thr perfect scapegoat. "What worries me is your wounds, you're not healing and you're freezing." Grandmother Sylvia states with a shake of her head, her fingers finding Bryce's hind paw once more.

He's left alone with the promise of food, his grandmother's scent fading as Bryce slips into sleep once more. No one else comes until the day he hears metal dragging against stone,  a weak snarl escaping his dry throat. "Up we go." A voice barked harshly, the sound of cage door opening filling the silence. A whine escapes from his lips when a hand grips his head and lifts it upwards, something frigid snapping around his throat a moment later. He's dragged against frigid stone, the guard never stopping despite the lack of fight. Soon enough -time seems have no meaning anymore- he can feel fresh air agaisnt his face. Voices reach his ears, his eyes opening a fraction to take in his new surroundings. People are gathered within the courtyard, his gaze focuses on a figure dressed in black. A platform sits infront of a set of stairs that lead to the throne room is located, he's lifted up the wooden stairs and set on his side.

"We are here today to say farewell to our once noble prince." A voice he didn't know began to speak, his focusing shifting to his chest where an ache had began and refused to leave. The feel of a hand in his fur draws his attention to the person before him, all he can see are sky-blue eyes. He feels a frigid blade against his throat, his lips parting in a silent snarl.

"I'll have a plan ready my pup, just wait and trust me." Grandmother Syria's words echo within his mind, the hand around his neck vanishing as the blade touches his fur once more. Swallowing the lump in his throat Bryce goes limp, his ears catching the silence of those gathered. He hears the parting of air as the blade is raised once more, another fainter sound drawing his attention away from the threat of death.

Another swing of the blade.

The sound of a ticking clock becoming louder.

The breeze around him smelling of rain to come.

The touch of metal against his fur once more.

The ticking ceases and what sounds like drums bwgin to fill the air. A strangr sensation fills his sroamch, as if he's being lifted into the air. He barely has time to open his eyes before everything is twisting and turning, time seeming to stop as he tries to breathe. He lands on his side in a heap of limbs, the sound of a door opening audible despite the ringing in his ears.

"You made it. Let's get you inside." A gruff voice registers in Bryce's ears, his body gently lifted from what he can smell is grass. Darkness pulls him under once more and he lets it, when he wakes he'll ask what just happened and how he isn't dead. For now, he just wants to rest.

Darkness. Thea often enjoyed the darkness. When it came with the painless bliss of unconsciousness, even if for just a little while, it was her greatest ally. But now, in trying to escape, hiding from the true monsters of the world that children saw only the shadows of in their nightmares, it had turned on her. It clung to her mind like a cobweb coated in sap even once sensations broke through into her waking mind.
She had no idea how long she had been out for. Minutes? Hours? Long enough for the familiar heaviness to settle and make the prickle of moving rake its sharp fingers over her. For all she knew, she could be back in her cell, the Sages waiting for her to wake to exact their ire on her.
Panic settled in the black abyss as she felt a pair of hands lifting her from beneath her armpits, sending pricks of pain through her arm and side that her mind was not entirely capable of comprehending yet. She felt her body drag backwards before whoever had a hold on her managed to pull her up, forcing the sticky blackness to begin to peel away.
“How are you so heavy?” she heard a strained voice mutter behind her. The voice of the unfamiliar guard.
She had been found.
It was enough for her mind to finally return to awareness as her breath caught in her chest at the realization, every ache and pain creeping back over her and making her clench her teeth. He had her back against him. He wrapped one arm beneath her left one and around her chest, the other still at her right armpit.
She gave a pained groan. Swallowing hard, the fire reigniting in her left arm as a reminder of its recent rough treatment, she yanked her right from his grasp. It felt as if she fought to move through molasses as she brought it forward, formed a fist, then rammed her elbow back as hard as she could.
Her elbow hit the metal of his breastplate with a cringeworthy thunking clang, sending a shock through her arm. Though far from the same intensity as using her left one, it was enough to make her grit her teeth to keep from crying out.
The guard gave a shocked “Oof!” and released her, stumbling back.
Thea fell to the rough floor. She instinctively moved to catch herself to keep her face from smacking into the stone, but the sudden weight on her arms sent a nauseating wave of pain up the left one. She collapsed to the floor, gasping, face scrunched and right hand clutching the left, the metal just slightly warmer than the chill of the dungeons.
Breathing heavily, she tried to focus on the guard as he collected himself.
“Take it easy, would you?” he growled, his helmeted head just visible in the light of a lantern he had hung on a nail stuck into one of the stone walls. Only a sliver of light shone from the lamp’s mostly closed shutter, but it was more than enough for Thea to make out the room.
Buckets, brooms, and mops coated in spider webs leaned against the walls. A couple wooden racks lined one wall, stocked with bottles so caked in dust and cobwebs it was impossible to see their contents. A few ragged, holey cloths draped in a discarded heap from one of the shelves.
Thea tried to snarl warningly at him, the expression mixed with her pain as she struggled to her feet despite the eternal ache encompassing her.
“I’m here to help you.” The guard raised both his hands in front of him as if to console her.
“Is that what you think the Sages are doing?” she growled through her teeth as she managed to stand, her back bent slightly and still cradling her left arm. “Helping me?”
The guard’s growled sigh echoed through his helmet. “I didn’t say they’re here to help you, did I?” He rubbed his chest where she had elbowed him. Surprise glittered in his greenish-blue eyes, and he glanced down. “You dented my armor!”
“I’ll do more than that if you so much as twitch.” The quiver in her voice tainted the threat. She did her best to take a defensive stance, her left arm shaking as she raised it and formed a fist with both hands.
The guard’s eyes narrowed. “I’m here to get you out of here. Your poor excuse of an escape attempt couldn’t have come at a worse time, but here we are.”
Thea hesitated, confliction joining the other emotions warring for dominance on her face. “Give me a single good reason to trust one of the Sages’ guards,” she spat, taking a small step back. Her knee caved under her weight, making her lurch forward, but she managed to steady herself.
“Use your head, girl!” Impatience saturated the guard’s voice. “I saw what you did to Gaillard. If I wanted to return you to them, I’d have called backup. Besides, you don’t have many choices. Either you can trust me, or head out that door,” he nodded to the rickety door behind her, “and get caught by the guards in ten seconds flat. They’ve all been called on duty to search for you. The place is teeming with them. It’s worse than an anthill on fire out there, and the more time we waste here,” he pointed a finger at the ground, “the more likely it is they’ll stumble on us. And I’m not compromising my position for you!”
Thea stared at him for a long moment, the tremble of her left hand intensifying. The guard glanced to it, and she gently gripped it with her right, trying to steady it.
“Who are you?” she growled through her teeth, her gaze boring into him. She turned slightly as she took another step back. She sucked in a sharp breath when the movement sent a sharp stab of pain up the right side of her body.
“Sorry, kid. Can’t tell you that. You going to let me help you, or not?” He slowly reached out a gauntleted hand toward her to take.
Thea eyed it warily, glancing between it and the guard’s eyes. She saw no deception in them, no malevolence, only a fierce determination. She quickly weighed the risks, but, in the end, he was right. Her options were dismal, at best. The worst-case scenario of going with him, was he would turn her in instead of her getting caught in the halls while trying to find a way out. The best case, he was telling the truth, and she would get out of this forsaken hole.
“Fine.” She stepped toward him, the eternal ache finally beginning to diminish to a more tolerable level from use.
A familiar, enraged “ARGH!” echoed from the other side of the door, making Thea gasp and spin around, her heart jumping into her throat. She stumbled backward, but the mysterious guard caught her, preventing her from falling.
“Not a sound!” the guard hissed in her ear. But she did not need to be told.
“This can’t be happening!” the Sage Scientist shouted, his voice accompanied by the sound of two pairs of footsteps.
“Say it louder,” the Mage scoffed in his—or her—soft, gender neutral voice. The dark malice in it made Thea shudder. “Maybe she’ll hear you and come running.”
She swallowed hard. It sounded like they had stopped near the door.
“We’re this close to completion!” the Scientist growled, lowering his voice so it just managed to filter into the forgotten storage room. “Without her, the last year’s been for nothing!”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Can’t you use that connection you have to track her?”
Thea inhaled softly through her nose. A connection? She looked back, sharing a quick, almost panicked glance with the guard.
The Mage snorted. “You know it doesn’t work like that.” The Mage paused. “What about your failsafe?”
“It’s short range only. And I haven’t tested it yet.”
“What are they talking about?” the guard whispered, his voice nearly inaudible.
Thea only shook her head with terrified uncertainly, unsure if she could speak even if she wanted to. She pressed her back against his armor to get as far from the door and the Sages outside it as she could. He took a slow, careful step back, and she followed his lead, not daring to take her eyes from the door, her bare feet making scarcely a whisper of a sound.
“Try it as we go.” Their footsteps began again, slower this time, as the Mage spoke. “Maybe fate will be on our side and it’ll trigger as we pass.”
Thea was sure the two were walking by the door now, the Scientist’s footfalls the heavier thud of boots and the Mage’s more of the soft clip of something simpler. For a short, precious moment, forgetting to breathe, Thea thought that, for once, fate was instead on her side and the Sages would simply pass them by. But she was gravely wrong.
Without warning, a searing, hot agony erupted within her. It ravaged through her like a raging, starving beast, making her knees buckle and a red film freckled by blackness consume her vision. She was scarcely aware of the scream that left her lips before one of the mysterious guard’s gauntlets pressed tightly against her mouth to stifle it, his other arm the only thing keeping her from collapsing to the floor.
With a burst of adrenaline-fueled strength, he dragged her toward the back of the storeroom as the locked handle jiggled. He struggled to keep his grip on Thea’s writhing body, making it that much more difficult as he snatched his lantern in passing. It swung wildly in his hand, making frantic shadows dance around the room as he made it to the wall and stepped through the seemingly solid stone.
With a burst of blue flame, the door tore from the hinges and slid across the floor with an alarming clatter. The Sages rushed inside. Blue electricity sparked around flames of a darker shade in the Mage’s hands, his face hidden by the hood of a black robe and a white mask pulled up in a wicked grin, leaving only slits for eyes. The Scientist, a bit taller than his companion, held a coiled whip in one hand, his own robe white and his mask, twisted in an agonized frown, black.
But the silent storeroom was empty.

When he felt the spike of red-hot agony race along his right side he made no move to stop his fall. Bryce laid still for several moments on the forest floor, hind leg throbbing painfully with each beat of his heart. His grandfather had managed to cure him of his wolfsbane poisoning after a month of continuous treatment, his hind leg refused all attempts to heal it. The hooting of an owl drew his attention towards the western direction of the forest, his ears catching the sound of several pairs of hurried hooves trampling across the leaf-covered ground. Gritting his teeth against the spike of pain his leg gave as he rose, Bryce took off in the direction the sound came from.

He came face to face with a horde of deer. Calling forth a barrier of ice Bryce watched as the first several deer veered away from it on instinct, his golden eyes catching flashes of different colored coats amongst the trees. Ducking around a large oak tree the young prince moved quietly closer to where he'd spotted the last of the small pack of wolf siblings, tail swishing slowly when he spotted a brown coated wolf beside a fallen log. Sitting himself down on his haunches he waits for a moment before barking sharply, the fourth-month-old pup before him stiffens and flicks his ears. Bryce sometimes wonders how he'd become the guardian of four pups, the brown-coated wolf sighs and slowly rises to his paws. Bryce lifts his head and releases a short howl into the air that carries easily with a slightly chilly breeze, his ears twitch when he hears three sets of silent paws heading straight towards them. He doesn't move but does brace himself for the impending tackle he gets from the other three, he only has a chance to sigh before he's on his side once more.

His leg is throbbing something fierce again as several cool noses nudge alone his sides and face. The brown-coated wolf barks twice and the other three slowly move back a few steps, Bryce remains still for a few moments and when he feels the pain ease slightly he opens his eyes. Four different colored pups sit before him with ears perked and tails tucked around their paws. He wonders if Zane will join them or if the wolf is off somewhere again, he himself has been awake since dawn and is slowly beginning to regret it. Slowly sitting up Bryce exhales through his nose, an ear flicking as he waits to see what either pup has to say.

The eldest is a sleek black wolf with grey eyes that Bryce calls Orion, the second eldest is a white wolf with brown eyes named Frost. The last two are twins in color and golden eyes though Bryce can easily tell them apart, the one he had found was lighter in color then his brother and so Bryce called him Zen, the darker brown-coated wolf was named Naz and was the most adventurous of all four. It's Zen who moves forward and gestures to the herd that has long since vanished, Bryce blinks and watches as Zen raises a paw and rubs it against his muzzle.

They were hunting to see if they could catch their own food. Bryce flicked his tail and stood while Zen flopped onto his side, the prince pausing to nip at the tender underbelly the younger was showing him. He began the slow trek to where his grandfather's cabin was, his young pack-members easily joining him and creating a small circuit. He has to stop several feet later to lean against a tree trunk, his vision whitening around the edges. A cool nose nudges his leg and he blinks to find Frost standing in front of him, he sometimes forgets how they're all still growing in size. He shakes his head and pushes himself upright, his charges are still young and depend on him and his grandfather for food. Reaching the cabin after a few breaks along the way, Bryce slips inside and moves to settle amongst a pile of old blankets his grandfather has set for them, his small charges yipping and nipping at each other in a bid for a good spot. Bryce growls at them in slight irritation and relaxes when all four settle around or atop of him, a fire is blazing strongly in the fireplace in the center of the large room. He must doze off because when he wakes he can smell fresh meat and the scent of fresh flowers that indicate his grandfather had returned.

"Hungry as ever I see, how you can put up with them Bryce I'll never know." His grandfather Wesley replies gruffly despite the soft pets he's giving each pup, Bryce snorts softly and shifts until he's on his other side. He wasn't the one that had found the then two-month-old pups trying desperately to get milk from their deceased mother, a bond had been formed and he'd been damned if he'd let them wither away. Heavy footsteps paused where he lay and Bryce doesn't move even as a plate is set before him, a large warm hand settling stop his head a moment later. "Don't think I haven't noticed you're refusal to get up, eat up and I'll bandage your leg for the night." His grandfather states after a few moments of silence, Bryce grumbles though he lifts his head toward the plate. Dinner passes easily despite a fight between Zen and Naz fighting over their shares, Bryce having to step in with a sharp bark and burst of magic that settles them after a few moments. His leg is bandaged after a bath he doesn't put up a fight for, each pup letting him bathe them with minimal grumbling.

Everyone sleeps deeply that night.



~~~~






Five silent figures move silently amongst the bare trees, the full moon bathing the snow-covered ground in blue light. The pack of five pause at the edge of a clearing that holds their prey, two large herds of deer and moose mixing together in a search for grass. Bryce moves forward only a step before a burst of frigid air lurches forward and begins to form a blizzard around the herds, his four pack-members slipping away from his side and heading straight for the confused herd.

Zen and Naz make the first move, darting forward on either side of the twisting mass of snow. Bellows fill the air as Frost and Orion leap forward and dart easily into the center of the herd, Bryce lunging forward after allowing time for the brothers to confuse the herd further with their quick movements. The blizzard fades and Bryce lurches himself at the largest stag, several bellows following as the other deer take off. His jaws clamp easily against the frantic pulse-point, warmth filling his mouth even as his claws dig into fur-covered sides as he twists them both to the ground. He moves away from the kill and toward where a fallen tree has landed between two others, his glowing eyes scanning the silent forest for threats.  A sharp bark draws his attention to their successful hunt, all four waiting for him to make the first move. He moves forward with only a slight limp in his step, pausing before the moose the twins must have brought down. He digs in and listens as the others follow, their last kill will be for later, grandfather Wesley loves to save any meat he can for food or to sell in the town to the east.

Returning home Bryce nudges each of them with his muzzle before taking off once more, paws silent as he heads for his usual post near the northernmost part of Vriln Forest. He settles down atop a tree stump and focuses on the sky, blinking several times when he finds thick clouds obscuring the morning sky. He slowly rises to his paws and winces when a jolt runs along his hind leg, Bryce tries to get off the stump only for another jolt to race along his side. His vision whites out along the edges and he only has a moment to feel panic before darkness takes him.

His last thought is that he hopes no one is near enough for him to harm.

Freedom. Thea had longed for it for so long, wished to feel a fresh breeze on her skin, the sun on her face, the grass between her toes. She knew the concepts, even if she could not remember if she had ever experienced them. Even with a fire raging through her and a haze clouding her vision, she knew she was so close, yet so far. Another surprise like that, and it would be over. No sun. No grass. Just stone and torture.
She was only just aware of the guard setting her down, her back against the wall and the agony slowly fading. She heard his armor clunk against the cold stone beside her, but did not dare move. Her chest rose and fell with shuddering breaths. She closed her eyes, focusing on pushing away the lingering effects of the Sage Scientist’s ‘failsafe.’
“You alive?” the guard grunted softly.
The light of his lantern shone a bit brighter from behind Thea’s eyelids, but she did not have the energy to stir enough to answer.
“You’re breathing. I’ll take it you’re alive.”
“Is that what I am?” she managed after a pause, her voice a weak whisper.
“Pain’s always a good indicator of that. Since you can hear me…” She heard the scuffle of him standing, the light shifting with his movements. “There’s something I need to do. Do what you need to regain your strength, but stay here and be ready to go the moment I get back. You should be safe here. As far as I know, I’m the only one in this forsaken place who knows these passages exist. Understood?”
Thea opened her eyes at the gentle tap of the lantern being placed near her feet, the handle squealing lightly as it shifted without the guard holding it.
The guard stood over her just to her left, his arms crossed. With the dim light beneath him, it cast a large, intimidating shadow of him on the wall and ceiling.
The hall surrounding them was scarcely wide enough to accommodate for her stretched-out legs. A mix of mold and spider webs clung to the walls. Water stains dripped down the cracked stones as if the structure itself cried in secret from the evils preformed within it.
“Oy!” The guard tapped his foot once in impatience. “Did you hear me or not, girl?”
“Fine.” She took a slow, deep breath, gritting her teeth and wincing as it made her side move and sent yet another reminder that she was alive down the right half of her torso.
The guard’s eyes narrowed. At least, Thea thought they did, but it could have been a trick of the light.
After a moment of deliberation, he nodded. “Good. I won’t be long.” He stepped over Thea’s legs, leaving the lantern behind, and continued down the hall.
Thea watched after him until the darkness consumed him. She took another slow breath, feeling the dampness of the stones soak through the back of her hair. The coldness of it sent a chill down her spine. Gritting her teeth, she forced her legs to bend toward her chest and leaned forward to avoid the unnecessary discomfort of the extra cold.
She gasped when the action irked her overused body, and quickly straightened her legs back out, leaning back against the wall.
At least the effects of the failsafe had at last fully faded, leaving only her familiar aches. But she could not afford to stay still long enough to let the worst of them creep over her. She would have to move, or risk being incapable of following the guard’s escape plan. Or of running if he instead brought the Sages back with him. She knew even in optimal condition, she would not get far, but she had to at least try.
She sluggishly got to her feet, her teeth clenched against the sore stiffness accompanying each contracting muscle. Letting her left arm dangle at her side, she braced her right hand against the wall, ignoring the sliminess beneath her palm.
Her body was tired. Worn. She had done too much, too soon, but now it would have to do more. She would make it do more. She glanced down at herself, the floor just as slimy beneath her feet as the walls. She slowly moved her hand to the freshest bloodstain on her worn gown, which had since dried. Beneath the thin fabric, she could feel the tapered edges of the newest plates that now wrapped half her upper torso from hip to ribcage. She hissed and drew away when her fingers brushed where skin met metal, the area still extra tender.
Thankfully, the guard did not take long to return. Only a few minutes passed before she heard the heavy thuds of his footfalls echoing down the hall. Only one set of feet. He was alone.
She turned carefully to face the direction he had left. A second later, the lamplight glinted over his armor as he stepped into its glow. He carried a bag slung over his shoulder, and his breaths came a bit quicker, as if he had been running.
“Good. You’re still here. And up.” He heaved the pack to the floor and reached inside. He struggled for a moment, then pulled out a large pair of tall, fur-lined boots. “You’ll need these.” He tossed them to the floor near her, one of them toppling over. “There’s enough snow out there to drown a cow.”
Snow. She had not considered that it could be winter. That would explain the extra chill that had been lingering in the dungeons lately.
She stared at the boots for a long moment, as if unsure what they were or what to do with them, then to her feet. She could not remember the last time she wore shoes. She curled her toes at the thought.
The guard paused as he reached inside the bag again, and looked to her. “Well? Put ‘em on. We don’t have all night.” He paused at her further hesitation. “You do know what shoes are, don’t you?” Uncertainty mingled with his otherwise condescending tone.
Thea nodded, then slowly pulled the hem of her nightdress up just enough to prevent it from getting in the way. The copper- and bronze-colored plates covering her left leg shone with an opalescent sheen in the lamplight as she carefully placed her full weight onto that leg. She used her foot to right the boot that had flipped over, then slipped it on. She tentatively repeated the process with the other, unsure if footwear would irritate the muscles beneath the organic metal.
The boots were a few sizes too large, but they would do. The fur on the inside was worn down around the bottom, but still puffy enough further up to rub against the skin of the right. But to her left, she may as well have still been barefoot. Only her toes and soles felt the rough fur around them. With the rest covered in the armor, she could tell there was something there, a slight difference in pressure, but nothing beyond that.
The guard whistled to get her attention, making her head snap up toward him. He held out a long, worn cloak.
She took it in one hand, the thick, course wool heavier than she expected.
“Need help with that?” the guard asked as she debated on if she wanted to risk using her left arm to determine heads from tails on the garment.
She did not answer immediately, trying it first on her own one-handed.
He sighed impatiently. “Here.” He took the cloak from her, swiftly located its hood, and draped it around her thin shoulders. Made for a much taller, brawnier man, it hung awkwardly from her and pooled around her feet.
Between the boots, cloak, and her dwindling strength, she envisioned herself doing a few faceplants before she made it even a couple steps away.
“Thanks,” she grumbled awkwardly as he tied the strips creating the cloak’s clasp.
He bent to tighten the boots as well as he could. “Thank me when you’re out.”
Once done, he straightened, then pulled the hood up. It slipped down over her eyes, obscuring her view as the guard took a step away and looked her over.
She reached up and pushed the hood from her eyes.
“Listen closely, because I’m only going to tell you this once.” He rested a hand leisurely over his sword, making Thea take an instinctive step back.
Her foot caught on the cloak and she nearly lost her balance, but the guard reached out and grabbed her shoulder, steadying her.
“Go straight down this hall,” he jerked his head to indicate behind him, “then take a right when it forks. You’ll come out near the Sages’ lab. Go straight across, and you’ll find an opening. It won’t look like one, but it is. The wall’s designed to hide the exit. Get there, go up the ladder, and go north. There’s a village about thirty miles from here. If you’re lucky, you’ll make it to one of the farms on the outskirts by dawn. Lay low. Don’t draw any attention to yourself. They’ll start searching nearby settlements soon enough. If you get caught, I’ll deny I helped you. Am I clear?”
Thea nodded, then paused. “Which way’s north?”
“Figured you’d ask.” The guard picked up the sack once more, and pulled out a compass hanging on a leather strap, which he handed to her. “Line up the ‘N’ with—”
“I know how a compass works.” Thea took it from him and examined the dented and scratched metal casing before hanging it around her neck.
The guard snorted. “Well, you seemed befuddled by the shoes. Had to check. I’ll leave ahead of you to make sure it stays clear. Wait a couple minutes, then follow.” Without waiting for a response, he turned, leaving the bag behind, and headed down the hall. “Good luck, girl.”
As soon as he was out of sight, Thea began to count the seconds. When she reached a minute, she took a deep breath, adjusted the cloak, then stepped toward the lantern. She fidgeted with the cloak, trying unsuccessfully to keep it from dragging so heavily on the floor. At two minutes, she gave up, grabbed the lantern, and headed down the hall.
She took each step slowly, watching her feet. The size of the boots aside, having something on them after so long felt strange, and the warmth they brought stranger still.
The lamplight glistened on the walls as she held it out before her, following the mysterious guard’s directions. As he said, a fair distance down, she came to where it branched off in a T shape. She turned right, and spotted the glow of flickering torches further ahead. The light radiated through a translucent stone wall at the end of the hallway.
At the wall, she stopped to watch and listen. She saw no movement besides the flicker of firelight. The echo of familiar voices floated to her from further off, guards complaining about having to search for her at this "unforsaken hour."
After a short beat, even those echoes faded. Thea took a breath then rushed out into the all too familiar hall. The double doors of the Sages’ lab were further down to her right, while the dead end was closer to her left
She glanced down the deserted hall. Both Gaillard and the body of the Sages' latest victim had been moved, leaving the area utterly vacant. Only the flicker of the torches created movement, casting their own shadows against the walls and turning the lab’s doors into an ominous display of dancing light and darkness.
Setting her gaze on the far wall, she extended her left palm toward it and slowed her pace as she neared. It looked solid enough, but, then again, so had the wall of the storage room.
When she expected her fingers to press against the stone, instead, they kept going. She blinked in surprise, then took a single step forward.
Unlike in the storage room or the secret exit behind her, the only magic of this illusion was in the architecture. Someone had built it so the opening resembled the rest of the wall from whatever angle you viewed it, the torches spaced just right so their light enhanced the effect. At least until you stepped through.
Thea followed the narrow corridor beyond to the left, then sharply right. It ended in another dead end, but unlike all the others in the dungeon, this one had an iron ladder attached to the stone. A single torch at its side illuminated it, its top disappearing into the darkness above.
Neck craned to look up at it, Thea swallowed hard. She would have to climb. She looked to her left hand and flexed her fingers, trying to prepare it for the stress to come. She glanced to her lantern, then to the dark above. The lantern would make climbing more difficult, and potentially make enough noise to arouse suspicion if it hit the ladder.
With a heavy sigh, she doused the lantern then hung it on a hook opposite the torch. She pulled her hood down for better visibility as she stood in front of the ladder. Hoping for the best, she took a deep breath and gripped the chilled metal of a rung in her right hand.
The climb was painfully slow. Though she felt a bit safer once covered by the cloak of the darkness, her eyes adjusting just enough to make out the ladder, her garments and aching muscles made the ascent that much more arduous. Her feet slipped a few times, and she nearly fell, but she just managed to hang on, her arms screaming in protest and heart pounding madly.
When she at last reached the top, her head thunked against a wooden hatch door. Wrapping her right arm around a rung and making sure her feet were well-braced against another, she grit her teeth and reached up with her left. Trying to avoid any unnecessary noise, she pushed slowly, the use making prickles of pain spear down her arm.
To her relief, the hatch pushed upward, despite its weight. Its hinges squealed slightly and the rumble of dirt rolling off it filled her ears. A spear of silvery moonlight shot through the opening, bringing with it the crisp chill of winter.
Thea pushed it open as far as the chain connecting it to the wall allowed, then pulled herself up and out. Instead of the outdoors, she found herself in an old, abandoned shack that looked like it may fall down if she sneezed too hard. A wintery breeze blew through the broken windows and where it looked like something had taken a massive bite out of one of the shack’s corners.
Panting heavily, she let herself take a moment. She leaned her back against the earthen ground, her feet still dangling over the ladder. But she rested for only a moment.
Forcing her legs from the tunnel, she knelt and closed the hatch. Covering it with the dirt of the floor so it blended in perfectly with its surroundings, she got to her feet and went to the missing corner.
A forest stretched around her, the trees bare. Snow glittered like diamonds in the light of the full moon, the powder showing no evidence of any guards’ comings and goings. A gentle breeze nipped at her face, but Thea did not care.
Thea scarcely dared believe it; at long last, she was free. But she could not let that thought go to her head. Not yet. The snow would show where she had gone. She would have to find a way to cover her tracks. Stay away from main roads, but find a well-trodden animal path, somewhere the snow was already packed down.
With that thought, she headed out into the snow, which had drifted nearly to the top of her tall, borrowed boots around the shack. Doing her best to sweep the snow back into her footprints and keep her premature elation in check, she checked the compass to make sure she headed north, and began her journey toward town, praying neither the Sages nor their guards would catch up to her first.

A faint scent on the wind caught his attention. Black-gray tipped ears swiveled forward and back as annowl hooted from far off, ebony nose trying to locate the direction the scent had come from. The wolf huffed a breath through his nose before slowly rising to his feet, lips pulling back in a silent snarl as pain pulsed through his left side. Head turning to see why he was injured he rumbled quietly when he saw nor smelled blood, his hind leg throbbing with each beat of his heart. Shaking his head and then entire body to remove the snow that coated his fur, the wolf began a slow pace forward.

Thr forest stood quiet aside from a few creature's moving about in search of food, the wolf kept away from the herds of deer he found just off a marked path. The scent from eaelier drifted with the wind, each time he caught it the next second it would be further ahead. His rumbling growl didn't stop once he switched to another path he'd recently marked, though he did pause when the scent filled his scenes. Ears lowering until they rested atop his head, the wolf moved forward. The trees around him slowly thinned as he continued forward, tail swishing slowly from side to side. When the scent reached his nose again the wolf took off in a run, teeth barred in silent challenge. Something new or someone had entered his territory, the wolf would confront whoever or whatever it was to defend what was his.

Thr path split in two different directions, one trail led towards town while the other led to a maze of trees that parted to reveal a large frozen lake. The wolf took the right path, slipping in amongst the trees to stay hidden from the intruder. He found no one aside from the scent clinging to thr air, the wolf snarled and took off in a run. He found a figure ahead that sraggered as if not accustomed to its legs, pace slow despite the time of day. He barked sharply once into the air, tensing when he caught the sound of a frantic heartbeat. Hackles rising the wolf slid from his hiding place amongst the trees, teeth barred and eyes bright golden. The air around him thickening as a wave of what felt like ice-cold water slid over his fur,  jaws snapping threateningly as he moved closer.

Despite the late hour, the moonlight glittered off the thick snow, reflecting its light and making the world visible for miles between the bare tree branches and needles of the trees that thrived in winter. Which also meant that Thea could be easily spotted between them if her captors came after her above ground.
She wove her way through the trees as quickly as her wary body allowed, each step awkward. She tripped a few times when she caught the edge of the cloak with the too-large boots or encountered an unexpected obstacle hidden by the snow, thankful for the times when she just managed to stay upright with the aid of a nearby tree.
Her body ached. Her left arm protested at even the simple action of drawing the cloak closed around her to stave off the bitter cold. Her right side screamed in protest. Yet, she forced herself onward, legs begging for rest. The chill of the night bit at the exposed skin of her face despite the cloak’s hood, and turned each exhale into a puff of vapor.
When at last she found an animal path, she hesitated; though deer and rabbit tracks mingled among the packed snow, there was one set fresher than the rest formed by the padded paws of wolves.
Thea took a deep breath. She would have to watch out for more than one kind of wolf in these woods. Freeing a thick, fallen branch from the snow, she began to use it as a walking staff, her grip on it tight and ready to use it as a weapon if needbe.
The going was slow. What felt like hours later, the animal path met what looked like a main road, the snow packed down by carts, horses, and the feet of other travelers.
Thea hesitated, before stepping onto it, keeping close to the trees. The bare limbs turned into more furs and pines, any of which she could use for cover if she caught even a whisper of a hint the Sages’ men were near.
When the moon had set and the first light of dawn turned the clouds overhead into a sea of light gray, the road ahead of her split.
She scowled. The mysterious guard had failed to mention a fork in the road. She looked down both paths, debating on which one to take. She consulted the compass, but even it gave little insight. Either path could bend to lead into town.
Thinking the right-hand path looked more promising, the left leading to what looked like a frozen lake in the distance, she limped onward.
The gray had begun to turn into the brilliant red streaks of dawn. She glanced up, but quickly looked away, the intensity of even those searing through her eyes. She could not remember the last time she had seen daylight. But even in that faint light, she saw no signs of a town, and she doubted she could go much further.
Her vision blurred from pain, lack of sleep, and over exhaustion, she took another step, and her legs buckled beneath her. She fell to her knees, her grip on the staff the only thing keeping her from fully meeting the ground.
She scrunched her eyes shut and bent her head for a moment before opening them. Between the opening in her cloak, she saw a dark patch fresh blood soaking the right side of her filthy nightdress.
She let out a shaky exhale. She had done too much, too soon. Her body had only just begun to adapt to the newest plates moving with and pulling at the skin around them. There was no telling what kind of damage lurked beneath the fabric.
A bark echoed behind her, and her heart skipped a few beats.
With a gasp, she hurried to her feet as quickly as she could, pulling herself up with both hands on her branch-turned-staff.
She spun around, her cloak flaring open. She scanned the trees as she raised the branch in both hands, unsure if she would rather the bark to have been from a wild dog, or ones the Sages had brought in to sniff her out.
She inhaled sharply through her nose when a massive gray and black wolf stalked from the trees, a snarl pulling at its long mouth and a rabid gleam in its golden eyes. She dared to glance once behind it, wondering if there were more to follow, before focusing on the wild dog. She locked gazes with it and tried to make herself look as large as possible, spreading out her cloak as well as she could without compromising her hold on the stick.
“Get away, you foul beast!” she shouted, trying to scare it off.
She took a couple slow steps back as the beast came forward, careful to keep from tripping on the hem of the cloak, but froze. As she watched, ice crystals burst to life around the wolf and beaded in his fur, making his form glisten like the snow around him.
“What?” she breathed, her hands trembling slightly.
Something about this felt eerily familiar. For a split second she tried to delve deeper into the thought, but her head started to throb, and she had an eminent threat to deal with. She swallowed, hard, and steadied her grip on the sick.
“Off with you!” she yelled, swinging the stick through the air. She turned a grimace at the pain that raked her side from the action into a snarl.