Sol slowed the pace of his song. He did not want the sound of the leaves to attract attention. Using a small motion of his hands, he directed the wind back into the forest behind him.
He tried to focus on the calming presence of the lightly dancing wind, but his ears could not ignore the conversation still taking place at the fireside.
“It could be a trap.” That was the voice of the mage.
“Or it could be an opportunity to see that the king’s justice is done.”
Sol wasn’t sure what the speaking soldier meant by justice, but he had a feeling they would disagree on the topic if they ever discussed it together.
As if a Quotidian soldier could have any concept of justice. Sol could not even jest about having such a conversation. The Quotidian taskers he’d known on Istroya would not even be capable of entering into a dialogue. It was better to remain silent.
As his thoughts swirled in growing anger, the wind he controlled with his magic increased its pace, spinning around him with a greater intensity. Sol pushed back against the resentment filling his chest. He needed to slow the pace of the wind before it grew out of his control and someone noticed. But the more he fought against the growing rage, the more it pushed back against him.
“Go do your justice. I’ll remain with the prisoners.” That was the mage again.
Sol stopped humming, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. This moment wasn’t about revenge. It was about getting free. It was about breaking away so he could re-establish justice. Keeping his mind focused on the active thoughts, he waited for the sound of the soldiers tramping away from the fire to cover his next few moments of humming.
The light glow of the gem at his feet flickered and went out.
Sol smiled in the darkness. The plan was working exactly as intended. He’d hoped a simple soldier would have remained with them instead of the mage, but at least they had argued long enough for him to drain the binding chain of its chaos magic.
Reaching out with his hand, he crossed the invisible barrier immediately above the chain. He flinched as a small spark crackled against his fingertip. No pain crawled up his arm and the tingling sensation disappeared immediately. The small crackle sounded deafening in the quiet glade.
The mage remained focused on the departing soldiers.
Sol repositioned his feet underneath him, so he was crouching over them instead of sitting on top of them, ready to spring up and move.
He did it. He freed himself. Almost.
The mage glanced back at the prisoners.
Sol froze in place, slumping his shoulders to appear as sullen as possible. He dropped closer to the ground so his active position would not be noticed.
The sound of a scuffle from the road drew the mage’s attention away from Sol. He turned back toward the fire and stared toward the road.
Sol heard the dull thud of metal striking a wooden implement, perhaps a shield or staff.
Another scream sounded, this time significantly lower in pitch, but not in desperation. “Lox!”
“How many are there?” another soldier called.
“I can’t tell, it’s too dark.”
“Where is the woman?”
Sol’s grim smile returned as he noted the panic in their gruff voices.
“Curses,” the mage muttered. He immediately released a low hum in his throat. A small orb of light appeared in between his outstretched hands. With a gentle motion, he sent it into the forest toward the road. It shed light on everything it passed.
Taking advantage of their captors’ distraction, Sol turned toward Neven.
The older man had awoken at some point during the quickly escalating events, and his wide eyes reflected the flickering flames of the fire.
Sol didn’t have time to explain. He gave the man a quick nod before seamlessly dropping to his side and painlessly rolling over the chain barrier. Without waiting to see if Neven had followed him, Sol dove into the undergrowth of the dark forest as quietly as he could.
Once he was safely behind a thick tree trunk, Sol rolled back up to a standing position, leveraging his weight over his feet so that they sank into the soft forest floor. Istroya had been mainly comprised of sand, making soundless movement an easy feat. The mossy ground on the forest floor, however, was lush with new silverreign growth and he’d been learning how to move silently over the new terrain during their trip through the mainland.
A branch cracked behind him. Neven had followed him, but had not known to practice his stealth prior to this escape.
