NOVEL WEB Chapter 24: Screw Being a Hostage. Time to get the f*ck out of Here!
She fiddles with the bottle a bit more after Lanky Blondie looks away. Tilting it around with her fingers. She notices there’s something buried in the sand inside. Carefully. She scratches the cork open with her nails and tries to pour it out. It’s a bit tricky to do it whilst chained up, but after some finessing. She manages to retrieve it. A note. Is this Soril’s handwriting? It’s elegant and cursive. But there’s only one word written on it.
Dawn.
Dawn? Huh? Which dawn? In a few hours? Why does he have to be so cryptic? What does this mean? Does he have a plan to sneak her out of Feror? He can’t be planning to fight through all the soldiers alone, can he? Please don’t let it be something this reckless. There are at least four thousand troops here! There are no other instructions or explanations. She shakes her head clear. She shouldn’t doubt him like this. If he hadn’t already done something reckless. Then he wouldn’t.
Alright, alright. The best thing she can do right now is to believe in him. Something’s going to happen at dawn, and she needs to keep an eye out. She flicks her gaze out the windows. There are hundreds of awake soldiers idling around tents and tables in the town square.
She’s trying to identify any irregularities. Panning from entourage to entourage. The normal ones are just playing cards or chatting over drinks. The sickos are happily tormenting pitiful Feror girls that at this point, aren’t even responsive anymore. Some random weirdo is masturbating in the corner watching them. Typical Estelian behaviors. Everything looks to be ordinary so far.
Things stay the same way for a few hours, yet as the moon begins to fall the sky gradually brightens. She just feels her heart beats get increasingly and increasingly rapid like a lovelorn maiden promised a scarlet letter. Jesus. Just how badly does she want to see him.
Focus Lumeria. Focus. It’ll be soon when the night patrollers turn in and the day soldiers come to take their place. The troops are getting tired from staying up all evening, yawning contagiously one after another. The squires up with their carts, distributing breakfast to everyone.
The four mourning shifters are approaching the cellar with weary looks on their faces as they nibble down their bread. They haven’t entirely booted up either as they exchange places with the sleepy night guards. Dawn is starting to make sense. Everyone is sluggish. The vigilance is the most relaxed at this hour.
But about twenty more minutes pass and nothing atypical is really happening. She’s starting to wonder maybe he didn’t mean this dawn. Could it be dawn tomorrow? Urg. This is so confusing. If only he included a bit more details so she knows what she should be even looking out for. Or did she just get her hopes up and it really is just all a random coincidence?
Wait. No. Something’s starting to be amiss. The soldiers are stumbling around more than usual. Bumping into each other. Holding their heads as if they’re intoxicated. The ones clustering the town square begin dropping to the ground one after another. The guards securing the cellar collapse. Their pupils are dilating, getting increasingly pale and breathless. She recognizes these symptoms. It’s the same drug that Wascald used on Soril. The breakfast is laced! Everyone who ate it now looks sick.
A squire starts running, pushing his cart with him. The tablecloth, displaced in the wind. There’s a barrel in there. Dynamites. She squints at his face. It’s Ovid. So, they did infiltrate! But he isn’t coming towards the cellar, instead, he’s going towards the back of Feror whilst the Estelian soldiers are still trying to figure out what’s going on. He’s planning to blow up the stone walls to create another exit!
Now’s her chance to escape! Biting into her lips, she crushes the joints of her thumbs against the shackles. Snapping it out of its sockets so she’s able to slip out. Dropping herself. Her knees buckle when she hits the ground. Her vision violently spins. Fuck. The lack of food is weakening her. Not now! Push through. She removes the wire from the glass bottle. Straightening it to start picking at her lock.
A commotion is brewing. She flicks her gaze out the tall windows as she works. The soldiers are catching on that something is wrong. Someone is commanding,
“Don’t eat the brea-” but he’s interrupted by a thundering explosion. Rattling the earth. Stirring up a violent wind lash. The barrel of dynamite has been set off! The stone wall has collapsed. From the opposite end, she hears a unanimous command of,
“Charge!” and stampeding footsteps. The Estelians sound a horn,
“All Alert! We’re under attack!” It’s shaking the ground beneath her. Making her grip extremely wobbly. She stabilizes her hand. It makes her realize, Soril doesn’t simply intend to sneak her out. He’s planning to completely retake Feror! That’ll make sense. Half the Estelian forces were brutally slaughtered by the Demon so now they have a chance. Outside, metals begin to clash in sharp echoing shings.
But the next command accelerates her heart,
“Go retrieve that wench!” come on, a bit more!
Come on. Come on. Faster Lumeria. Faster. Footsteps are rapidly approaching her. Don’t be a burden to him right here! The lock clicks open. Got it! Sprinting out. It’s completely chaotic.
She’s still in enemy quarters. A divide of blue versus green. She makes a blind dash towards the other side where Astian forces are still pouring in and pushing out. Keeping herself close to the walls. She flicks over her shoulder; a few soldiers are persistently chasing her. Ahead of her, only a few others notice her and come at her with swings. Most of them are occupied with the invasion.
And with a significant number of the Estelians completely incapacitated by drugged food and another half more disoriented by the late nights or early mornings, they can win this! All she’s got to make sure now, is to not get herself captur-