“I tried, I’ve really tried,” Jurok said, the torch flames reflected off in his eyes, emotionless. The dungeon wall soaked up the heat, leaving the room shivering and despairing.

“But my efforts were in vain, so please forgive me. My family was created to serve the Garuda clan, and I was to devote my life to you. But you, indecisive, impatient, and talentless, lack the qualities-”

“Sounds like you were a shit advisor,” Lei glared, leaning against the wall, soaking up the heat.

Jurok hung the torch onto a fixture on the wall. “I wished to use you. Really. To put you up, turn you into a great man, and ride that to glory. Alas, you are simply too difficult to train-”

“So you thought of me as a... dog?”

“Did you not view me the same? You were nothing more than a deaf pet, and please stop interrupting.”

Jurok reached into his black suit, and pulled out a piece of gnarled paper. Anyone could tell it was made for the wealthy, with fancy decor and cursive writing. “This is our contract. Well, it was. It was created six years ago, on the eve your father declared you as heir. Schemes were formed, and heads were felled, all to protect you.”

Holding the contract above the torch, flames caught it, devouring until it curled into ashes. He sighed. It wasn’t a sign of guilt, but a feeling of euphoria.

“Never would I dare to do something so brash,” he said. “However, now is different. Your father is dead.”

“Is this some sick joke? You’ve already turned senile at your age, Jurok!”

Lei sneered. When his father hears of this, Jurok will be executed for his impertinence and betrayal. Who would dare usurp the Garuda clan that stood proud for a century?

“Even now you deny the circumstances of your situation. Look at yourself. Foul as a barbarian, wearing rags unfit for the lowliest servant, and so stank none of your friends would recognize nor acknowledge-”

“Shut up would ya! I’m tryna sleep here!” A dry voice interrupted. It was the person Lei though died, Geordie. How is he still alive in this freezing dungeon?

“Very well, then I won’t bother you any longer, Lei. Please note, it’s nothing personal, just business. We will meet at your execution.”

Jurok took one last glance, with hands behind his back, and stepped up the slick stairs to the open dungeon door.

The heavy and rusted dungeon door creaked its mouth shut.

“Geordie!” Lei shouted, shook, slapped, and kicked him. Anything to anchor him to his mortal coil.

He brushed Lei aside in a lazy manner. Emaciated with plastered gray hair, he was about forty. The shoddy clothes folded in his basin-like chest. “Did I hear something bout’ an execution? Not for me is it?”

Lei sighed, carrying Geordie closer to the torch’s warmth, and explained his situation.

The flame projected two shadows that flickered imperceptibly on the floor. The shadows were still but grew with anger but deflated in helplessness, absorbing and releasing the colors of crimson heat.

“We can’t die here like this! We gotta explore the world, eat food, and flirt with them beauties! The best way to live is to spitfully live! Spite your brother! I.. I want to flirt with girls! I’m only thirty! ” He rubbed his bony hands together.

“You’re right… I can’t die like this! I MUST LIVE!” Lei yelled. “But.. there’s no way to escape…”

He slouched.

“Don’t accept what fate gives you because they’re all second-hand goods. Fight for what you want.”

Geordie chuckled weakly, his fingers intertwined.I got a good idea…”

********

A sunburnt, burly man hobbled down the dungeon, carrying a torch in one hand, and a bag of gruel in the other. He was a sturdy, straw haired man with two crossed eyes, and a crooked smile. His thin coat magnified his shifting muscles as it was stretched to the limit.

“Mista Jurok told me to give ya this for your last meal. Something about food and stuff. Welp, here’s ya gruel.” He dumped the meal on the floor. He turned and walked up the stairs.

“S-say, mister.. Master Jurok said he’d le-let me outta here.” Lei said, shivering.

“Did he now… welp, he ain’t here, whatcha gonna do?” He continued walking.

“I command you to stop this instant!”

The man snapped his head back, face blooming beet red, eyes twitching. “You what now?”

“Please sir, calm your anger.” Lei dropped to his knees, and bowed. His face was similarly red, for him to beg was humiliating, even if it was pretend.

“The guy next to me is a medic. One willing to service you!”

The man lit up, calming down. Without hesitation, he dropped his pants, revealing a puffy, oozing tumor on the right inner thigh.“Oh, neato, I’ve got this big one here.”

The man revealed a sad face. “Can you fix me, doc? It’s been chaffin’ for years. I cut it off and it comes back meaner n’ bigger.”

Geordie's eyes widened. “I don’t-”

“Of course he’ll heal it for you!” Lei interjected, pushing him forward. “But you must let us out!”

The man agreed, forcing Geordie to inspect the wound.

Geordie asked for a sharp knife, alcohol, and clean gauze. The man complied, running out to retrieve the materials.

“My First Circle is unable to revolve mana anymore and I can’t cast heal without a medium to channel the magic. I’m going to slice off the tumor with a sharp knife.” He leaned closer. “Or we could change our plan….”

He whispered.

“No.. we can’t do that! I can’t do that,” Lei shook vehemently. He had done plenty of misdeeds, but not something so deadly.

Geordie gripped Lei’s arm tighter, “We must, to survive! You’ll understand one day, so don’t ruin this.”

The door creaked and the man came back with a gleaning knife, a jug, and some cloth, “Welp, doc, here’s ya stuff.” He grinned a dumb, goofy smile.

Geordie wrapped the man’s eyes and stuffed his mouth with the cloth. It’s so he doesn’t see the surgery, and could bite down on the pain, he says.

The knife prepared its brave incision into unknown dome of the tumor. It paused- hesitating- then pushed forth in a smooth curve arc like a paddle through water.

The man grit his teeth until the jaws locked and muscles bulged red and bruised

The torch lit a play of shadows on the wall. The figures were elongated and flickered with the laughing flames. One sat and one squatted. For the next plan was not his wish, perhaps his lack of will is his weakness. Lei stared blankly.

The sitting figure grunted in surprise. It shot up but the legs went limp; a thin knife was stuck in it. A stream shot out; an artery was sliced.

The burly figure wobbled.

The squatted shadow pushed the injured shadow onto the ground, merging together. The top shadow suffocated the victim.

Geordie’s shadow moved fast. It raised its arm- holding another sharp object- and plunged, puncturing the shadow’s neck. It was sure swift, afterall, a medic should know the body best.

Like a skilled butcher, the executioner sweeps the blade, left, right, left, right, around the throat slicing whatever holds the body up. For a brief moment it looked like the victim tries to yell, as more tissue is severed. Blood squirts with every cut, splashing onto the wall with force.

The torches dimmed as the body struggled- becoming weaker and slower- for a few seconds later until the body became slump. The occasional arm or leg convulsed. Maybe the soul was passing through them?

The bloodsoaked Geordie stood up weakly, gasping for breath. He stared at me, gaunt eyes darted from me to the dungeon door. “We must do anything to survive, Lei. Lives are but a simple passing of the wind.”

“Are those words of yours comforting me or you?”

“Aye, I have broken the Code I held honor.” Geordie, with shaky hands, stripped the clothes off the dead man. A small pool of blood gathered, staining the air with metallic taste. He donned the dead man’s clothes.

“What are you waiting for?” His thumb gestured towards the door. Time for part two. Geordie grabbed the torch from the wall and pushed Lei forth.

It was no dashing escape. A castle’s security force was overseen by a Prime Guard, a mage of Third Circle or higher. The castle guards include household knights, mage apprentices, squires, men-at-arms and watchmen. If the castle owner fancied it, they could install intrusion runes - triggering traps - rather than employing guards. For example, the Garuda Clan had large interconnected mansions utilizing both methods. Guards patrolled the perimeter and intrusion runes safeguarded valuables.

This castle owner, however, did not justify the high cost of maintaining a night patrol. Just establishing normal guards already depleted the owner’s stash of gold. It made security runes seem very attractive. Lei deduced that the guards are asleep in their quarters. However, the security runes may be active at night. The stone halls were empty, lit only by dying torches. Wealthier nobles would embed mana crystals into the walls, which emitted sooth and calming ambient light; a symbol of wealth.

Lei once scoffed at the cheap designs of such manors and castles, but facing the unknown, it now provided a sense of anxiety and it jumped his senses into overdrive. What if they triggered an unsuspecting rune? They could be obliterated into nothing. It could be worse: physical traps. These traps don't rely on magic, they are activated by pressure in the stairs or on the floor. If they get spiked, they're done for. This leads to the question of: Is Baron Argus a cheap bastard or not?

Luckily, it was the middle of the night when they discovered guards at key points in the castle so many were unaware, simply dozing off while leaning against the wall.

Stalking up the maze-like corridors, they were hit by the smell of roasted meat. Their grumbling stomach rebelled, so they made a detour into the welcoming kitchen. The smell was faint, but it lingered around to guide them.

Tied roasted chickens greeted their eyes, golden and crisp, were slow roasting over the weak oven embers. The aroma emanated an aura that touched every nook in the kitchen, seeping herbal flavors into the counter of strewn piles of bread. Arched above the table - resting from their day of use - were tacked various cooking tools. Lei knew the owner held a feast of sorts earlier.

They went to work, eating like starved animals. Chunks of bread and chicken disappeared into the black hole of their stomach. Their bellies expanded like they were pregnant, a full moon.

Grease splashed on their canvas of a mouth, as they slumped next to the warm oven. They felt something they haven’t in months: a full stomach;. Lei sighed with a smile, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He scooched closer to the oven, basking in heat.

A sharp, oily knife rested atop Lei’s belly, as a fork was in his hand.

Geordie gestured towards the exit. Lei shook his head.

“We need to find my sister and bring her. I don’t trust my brother anymore,” Lei whispered.

“We? Bah,” Geordie waved. “We are barely alive and you want to save your sister? She’ll be fine. Let her go. Save her when you’re stronger.”

Lei paused and gripped his shoulder. ”You go first. Once I retrieve my sister, I’ll find you.”

Geordie paused, thinking about it, then sighed,” Grab your sister and let’s run… Where is she?”

Correct…

Where was she? Lei thought.

As the guest of some noble, rooms are reserved near the top floors of the castle.

“The wealthy believe the rising sun will gift them good luck so their bedrooms face the sun rise. When they treat guests, their rooms should be next to or nearby the master bedroom,” Lei said.

Geordie sighed, ”Fine, let’s do this quickly.”

They grabbed a few things in the kitchen - a couple of knives, more food, and some water - before ascending the spiral stairs in a careful manner. Geordie taunted Lei for bringing along the ladle.

“Casting spells is assuring, alright?” retorted Lei.

*****************************************************

Four guards stood near the guest rooms, dozing off. Their spears leaned on the wall. The hall lined six impressive rooms, running in a circular base, parallel to each, all inlaid with the crest of a sword and fang. With a glance, Lei knew that insignia. It belonged to Baron Argus Redfield- a notorious sexfiend with a temper to match.

Lei raised the ladle, and casted Deep Slumber. It was the only spell he was able to learn back in the Housten Academy. It was potent and immediate.

There was a miniscule amount of movement in his body; just enough for one cast. Lei’s magic circle - incomplete and clogged by torture - rotated like a broken clock as it poured viscous mana into the spell. Because the guards were dozing off, it was easy to influence.

The spell brushed into the guards and they fell to the floor like puppets with their strings cut.

Except one.

The furthest guard grabbed his spear and attacked. He swayed. Unsteady, like a drunk.

Lei fell to his knees, his hand dangled a snapped ladle, charring black by mana.

The guard reached Lei, spear raised back, ready for blood.

Geordie dashed forth, arcing up a kitchen cleaver at the guard’s neck.

The momentum carried the blade. It sliced. Unstoppable. It continued until it hacked into the stone wall with a solid clang. Praise the chefs; they took great care of their tools. The head plopped next to Lei, wearing a mask of confusion.

Lei’s bony, shaky hand wiped his forehead sweat as he heaved. His magic circle faded, presenting a welting bruise.

Geordie got down and inspected Lei.

He said, “No. More. Magic.”

Taking a break, they pressed their ears against the closest door, listening. Four guards represented four occupied rooms.

Two rooms had faint rumbling of snores. Those were crossed out. The furthest wooden door transmitted vibrations caused by bouncing… and moaning.

Argus Redfield. So, the sexfiend rumors were true.

There lies the only room left: the silent.

They opened it with care, no creaks to be heard. What would they see? It could be a muscular warrior, or maybe a elderly noble. It was their first chance, their only attempt.

The window was wide open, letting the breeze wave the curtains. Moonlight illuminated the black carpet that extended from the open door to two luxurious beds.

One bed empty. The other laid a small figure cocooned in quilt.

“Mimi!” Lei rushed over and shook her.

She rubbed her eyes and squinted. “Lei…” She muttered. Her eyes teared up and hugged his arm like a caterpillar.

“I’m dreaming again,” she said. “Don’t leave me!” She hugged tighter.

Her head tilted back, revealing a sleeping face with plastered blonde hair, pale blush cheeks with hint of drool on tip of her mouth.

Lei stroked her messy hair, cooing her sadness.

“There’s no way to escape quietly,” Geordie frowned, gesturing at the window. The guest room faced the outer wall of the entrance, towering over the landscape of sleeping flowers, and exposing the gate. A giant wall surrounded the castle. There leaned two guards. They laughed and drank and were lively as ever.

Damn! We can only pass through the gate.

They raided the closet and donned on nicer clothes while fixing their scraggly hair. Their escape required much finesse since their magic was disabled.

They returned back to the kitchen, where they found a wooden crate; one big enough to fit Mimi.

The trio descended past the chambers. They tiptoed down the great hall, and proceeded toward the gate. Walk with swagger, Lei reminded Geordie. The moon eyed them from the cloudless night, scarred by ancient craters, it hung high, bright and round, curious of their actions. The Three Celestial Rings - worshipped for many reasons - arced across the sky, overlapping each other at different positions.

The two guards wore basic leather armor, with swords hung by their waist, stood by the arched gate. It was obvious the ash bearded guard was a mentor to the younger one... A rookie that held a notepad.

“Halt! Where are you leaving to so late?” The middle aged guard asked. He held a casual posture seeing the scrawny but well dressed travellers.

Lei lowered the wooden crate.

Calm down, breath slow. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this.

“We wish to pass.” Lei said, chest puffed.

“State your name, position and reason for leaving.” The young guard readied his notepad.

“We are Jel and Lo,” Lei stated. “Chefs heading out early to gather ingredients for a feast... for the baron.”

“Didn’t the baron just have a feast?”

The middle age guard pondered, stroking his mustache. “I’ve seen the cooks in the castle, but they’re all fat bastards. I’ve never seen such skinny ones. Have you, Leonard?” he asked the rookie.

The young, naive guard shook his head.

Gerfie slapped Lei’s head, “Sir, we are apprentices.”

“What’s in the crate?”

“Supplies.”

“Since you’re apprentices, there’s a tradition you need to follow. As in offering tribute.” The middle aged guard winked at the trainee. “Take note.”

Lei smirked, and handed the mentoring guard a small, wrapped package.

“Ah, you’re a smart one,” the guard revealed stained, yellow teeth as he smiled. “Move along.”

A whimper came from shadow. It was a brown, scrawny dog with visible ribs.

“Oh, something wrong, dog?”

“Must’ve caught the scent of bacon, that dog.” Lei gritted his teeth, throwing a small piece of bacon to the dog.

The young guard swooped in and pried the meat from the dog’s mouth. He kicked the dog away.

“HEY!” Geofie huffed as he got between them.

“What’s the matter? It’s just a damn animal.” The kicker eyed Geordie.

“That’s right, Ge... Lo. It’s just a damn animal.” Lei muttered, glaring daggers at Geordie. “These boys need to eat, especially during war.” Lei pulled him back. Geordie's face turned beet red.

“Don’t you dare hurt the dog!” Geordie lashed a punch at the guard.

“Dog?” A cute, stifled voice came from inside the crate. The content inside began struggling.

“What the…?” The young guard looked confused.

Lei sighed, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a leather pouch of red powder.

He hurled the contents, covering the guard’s face like a rose cloud. “Pocket spice!”

The young guard fell onto the dirt ground, curling into the fetal position, with hands covering, rubbing his eyes, screaming as if swarmed with fire ants. With various chilis and seasoning, who could resist?

“Ah! My nose! Oh! My eyes!”

Lei stepped to the side, grabbed a nearby thick stick, and proceeded to wack him unconscious - lest it attracted attention.

“We could’ve escaped smoothly!” Lei punched the huffing Geordie.

“Oh, it’s alright.”

“Alright my as-,” Lei realized Geordie was talking to and petting the dog.

Geordie looked around. “Let’s steal a horse.”

A castle should have horses, or would it still be a castle?

“Do you know how to ride a horse?” Lei replied, retrieving the guard’s bacon.

“I don’t.”

“Damn it, Geordie, me neither.”