The weight of Chains

Jan 28, 2022
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The room was gloomy, faint rays of light were shining from the corridor, through the bars. A pitiful, dirty figure was rolled up in a corner, shivering and chained to the back wall. Thorim did not know how long he had been imprisoned by his captors nor did he know who his captors were. He was aching all over, feverish and dehydrated. Time had lost all meaning, there was only pain.

They are experimenting, on all of us - he pondered as he heard agonizing screams from some cell up the hallway.

He tugged on the chains, as if to see if time had loosened the anchor in a solid stone wall. All he could think about, was a cool tankard of ale with his friends in Vadda.

One day I'll get out of this hell hole, he said to himself.

The chains were not that heavy, yet they weighed heavily on his soul.
 
Jan 28, 2022
80
52
18
Thorim was lying on his back in the middle of his cell, looking out the barred window. Night sky was clear and the stars could be seen. He remembered hearing that around this time of year a planet called Mercurio F, could be seen in the southern skies during the small hours of the night.

I wonder which direction my window is facing, he thought.

Astronomy was never his strongest subject. He was probably wrong about the planet's name. For some reason, that was a name imprinted in his memories. He did not care, if it was wrong or right. He knew only that he wanted out.

I want to break free, he mumbled to himself.

Someone in the next cell grunted and said:

I want to break free from your lies. All you do is tell tall tales of your adventures and conquests out in the wilds. I don't need you to. "I've got to break free", the stranger mockingly imitated Thorim.

God knows, God knows I want to break free, Thorim replied.

There was an awkward silence, as if both parties had lost their train of thought and could not figure out the next words.

But I have to be sure, when I walk out that door... Oh how I want to be free, Thorim said. He didn't know why he was a captive in the first place, he didn't know if he was going to be a fugitive if he somehow managed to escape. He needed to be sure that when he escaped, he would have the best possible chance of succeeding. He had to make it on his own, he had to wait for the right time.

Quit your socializing you wretches, a guard yelled from the hallway.

Thorim kept staring out of the window. Deep in his thought, he casually tugged on his chain again. There was a cracking noise. Through the chain in his hand he felt something shift.