The Inheritor of Light

Prison Break (Part One)

"What's the matter? You're fine. He never touched you."

"The crystal. It's gone. Did it fall? Oh blessed Alshtalal, please let it not have fallen." Both of them looked to the ground before them.

However, nothing lay at their feet. They both looked up slowly at Johnathan, who smiled at them mischievously. He opened his hand and allowed the chain to dangle from a finger. Attached to it was the crystal. The look on their faces changed from one of surprise to one of fear. Johnathan allowed the chain to slip from his finger. In slow motion, the guards watched in horror as the crystal and chain fell towards the floor. Upon touching the surface of the cold, hard stone floor, the crystal shattered into thousands of shimmering pieces.

If the crystal had simply been lost or destroyed elsewhere, the cause for alarm would have been moderate. However, the destruction of the crystal at Johnathan's feet was a reason for terror. You see, when the crystal shattered, the power contained in it did not expire or defuse. Rather, it sat there, boiling over itself, waiting to be wielded. And wield it, Johnathan did. As the two guards pulled their blades out, Johnathan summoned the surrounding darkness to his left fist. In one swift stroke, he thrust his fist towards the cell door. The darkness threw itself upon the door like a tidal wave upon the shore, ripping it from its hinges and throwing it—and the guards—into the cell bars opposite of him.

Johnathan stepped out and made a motion as if he was dusting off his hands. "Guards: the rejects of every army." He picked the keys off one of the crushed bodies and walked towards the dungeon door.

"What're you doing?" Johnathan's cellmate timidly asked from behind the bars.

"I'm leaving. Simple enough."

"Well, I don't want any of your escaping business. Worst I'll get is some fines. If they find out that I was involved in an escape, they'd have my head."

"Fine," Johnathan tossed him the keys. "You find yourself another nice cell to sit in then. I'm leaving."

He quickly turned and ran to the door as the prisoners finally realized what had happened and had begun to make a racket. It was a simple enough trick to pick the dungeon door. All it took was some knowledge of locks and harnessing some darkness to move the pins. Johnathan decided to close it after him. That way there'd be less of a chance of the normal guards noticing anything was wrong. Outside, the coast was clear. Undoubtedly Varas's men had sent off the normal jailer so they could "rough him up" without interruption.

Nearby was the armory, and, after making quick work of the lock, he found his belongings sitting on a table. Apparently, they hadn't had enough time to process his many items and store them, which was lucky for him. After he reequipped his daggers and assortment of throwing knives, he picked up his cloak. "I'll want you on for this." He tossed one side over his shoulder and secured the clasp. The shadows in the room bent towards him as he headed for the door. He glanced back at his pack; sadly, it would have to be left behind if he was to sneak properly.

After closing the door, he summoned up the darkness around him and disappeared in the darkness.

* * *

The King's chambers lay at the eastern end of the palace. To reach it, one would turn left at the throne room and continue down a long corridor until reaching a corner. Turning left again, it was a quick walk down and ahead to the right. Two large oak doors barred the entry of any normal passerby but, for Sãra, such simple barriers could not restrain her. She threw the doors open with all her might, startling the maid half to death in the process.

"Leave us," Sãra commanded coldly. The maid curtsied and quickly left the room, shutting the doors in her wake. Leaving Talia and Sãra in the room.