The world was silent. That only lasted until the sound of water drops slowly but consistently began echoing through his eardrums. The boy opened his eyes slowly, feeling groggy. He began to feel the ground around, only to be greeted a dull rattling noise. Metal. Iron, to be precise.
“You’re awake.”
The horrible, metallic screeching of their voice was all it took to shake the boy back to reality. He looked up to see a dimly lit room and noticed his arms and legs were cuffed at the ankles, knees, elbows, and wrists. The chains were thick, and all of them were attached to different parts of the wall and floor near him. Clearly, his captor was taking no chances.
“You may be wondering why you’re here, however, that will be explained in due time. Just know that your life is in my hands, as it was from the start. If you so much as attempt to break free of the chains, I will kill you.”
The room was constructed primarily of quarried stone bricks and seemed rather new considering how clean everything was. There were no cobwebs, and there were many evenly fastened torches on the wall sconces, although they were not lit. The dim light in the room was provided by the various candles seated on small saucers along the bottom edges of each wall.
The boy looked around some more, noticing various stone furniture, such as chairs, a table, and even what appeared to be a garderobe as there was a section of wall jutting out and a stone slab for your legs to rest on as you did your business. It was a fully functional home, minus having a kitchen. This was likely the inside of a relatively new fortress or keep.
The being who captured him was seated on one of the stone chairs, taking their sweet time while reading a book, seemingly in no hurry to question the boy. They used a bony finger to trace over the line they were reading as if they had poor vision—or perhaps, it was obstructed by their mask. They hummed calmly from time to time, making a dull metal vibration pass through the air.
The book they were reading also seemed to be written in a completely incomprehensible language, but the boy was curious about it anyway, as he’d only learned to read basic texts in his own language. The figure took notice of the attention paid to the book and turned to the boy, closing it.
“Do you know how to read, child?”
“A little.”
“Good. Knowledge is power, as they say.”
The boy looked down at his chains, knowing that he would not likely be given his freedom anytime soon.
“Would you like to try reading this one?” The figure asked as they held up the book they were reading.
“I can’t.”
The figure put the book down.
“You can read, no?”
“Yes, but that’s not my language.”
The figure seemed amused by this, humming in a sharp tune, like a cold blade being drawn from an icy sheath. From this, the boy could guess that they took pride in their knowledge.
“A language is best learned when young. Would you like to learn?”
The boy nodded. “Some day, yes.”
“Then… why not today?”
“Because I’m a caged rat.”
The figure paused upon hearing this.
“You think that knowledge can only be gained with freedom? To the contrary, freedom can only be won with power, and power is rooted in knowledge.”
The boy chuckled, but the figure took exception with this response and threw at the boy's feet a different, yet similar book. They seemed displeased, but more out of pity and disappointment than anger. Their actions seemed inconsistent considering they threatened the boy before taking them captive and right after they woke up. What could they even hope to gain from such actions?
“Since you don’t want to learn from me, I give you the chance to teach yourself. This book has a translation guide written in the front. If you know your character sets, you should be fine learning it.”
The boy tilted their head. “If I do this, will you let me go?”
The figure shrugged. “Who knows? But, maybe a smart child will figure a way to sneak out without me noticing.”
The invitation was tempting, but an obvious trap. The boy had learned in training with their father that all adults had ulterior motives… learning what those were would mean the difference between victory and defeat.
“Well, it can’t hurt to kill some time.”
The figure clapped once. “That’s the spirit! I’ll be leaving for a bit. Don’t run off on me, now!”
The boy watched the cloaked monstrosity with both curiosity and suspicion as they turned and made for the door. They unlocked it with a key, but instead of closing it behind them, they merely passed through it, leaving it wide open.
It felt like they were underestimating the boy. He was being toyed with. They were testing how obedient he would be. Well, he’d definitely not play into their hands by leaving, as they probably were waiting right outside with a trap of some kind.
The boy decided he would delve into the book, but only after doing a bit of damage to his chains. Iron was strong but brittle—he could make small cracks here and there, keeping them small so that they remained inconspicuous.
He made only one crack in the chain attached to the cuff around his left elbow using his right wrist cuff, by smashing the cuffs together. He made a note of the dull but loud noise and knew he’d have to explain if his captor returned now. He decided not to do any more damage, for now, considering how noisy it was. Patience is a virtue. Just in case, he decided to push the book his captor out of reach using his foot, giving him an excuse to have made some noises.
As expected, his captor returned in short order and checked on the boy’s chains. For some reason, they did not check the cuffs, as if they were confident those were not within the boy’s ability to break.
“What was that noise you just made?”
They actually heard that? As he thought, his captor must have merely left the room to lie in wait with a trap for him. It seems they expected him to actually break out of the chains and were going to pretend not to hear the noise until he walked out the open door.
“I couldn’t reach the book, so I struggled against the chains. It’s just out of reach. Can you hand it to me?”
The figure went completely silent save for a very quiet, low-pitched vibration. They lifted up the boy’s hands and feet one at a time and examined the cuffs on each. After checking those, they seemed unconcerned about further damages to the cuffs, thankfully.
It seems likely, due to the fact that they examined only the ankle and wrist cuffs, that they made the cuffs on the wrists and ankles slightly weaker—most likely on purpose, in order to catch him in the act of breaking them—but the boy knew where and how to strike metal against metal, so that even weaker metals could break stronger ones with little to no damage.
“Alright. But, don’t disturb me again—I have important work to do out there,” they replied, handing the book to the boy.
The captor left the room in an unnatural haste, and the room fell silent once more. The boy opened the book. A translation guide really was in the first few pages, as his captor explained. He went through it briefly—it was far too complex for him, though, and even had many words and characters he didn’t understand in his own language as parts of the guide.
Perhaps, the captor assumed more of his intelligence than he’d given them credit for—perhaps, it was he who underestimated them. His captor likely took into account almost all possibilities they could think of, and if the boy managed to surprise them even once, it would be the end for the boy. He had to be more careful, more cautious, and above all… more patient.
He closed the book and set it in his lap with a sigh. He’d need to learn his own language to a more advanced level first if he was to do utilize it. His captor seemed to take some form of pride or joy in teaching others, so perhaps he could get them to lower their guard a bit if he showed some intellectual curiosity.
However, he hungered now. If he was to make it out of here alive, starving to death was certainly not an option. He would have to take the risk of eating drugged or even poisoned food, in order to survive long enough to see the world outside these walls again. His captor wouldn't have risked their own safety to capture him unless they had future plans for him... so he was unlikely to starve in their hands, at the very least.
He was told not to disturb them, though. He’d wait patiently for them to return and maybe go back to sleep until then. Saving his strength was another priority now, considering it could have been a long time since he last ate. He wasn't sure how long had passed since his capture, but considering the ravenous hunger and the weakness of his muscles, it was probably quite a while.
As the boy passed the time by examining the details of his environment more, his consciousness drifted away...
