“We caught that rat,” I hear someone say. “Under Myavor,” he grunts.

A loaf of bread wasn’t worth this.

Stupid monkeys.

It’s not like the Cercopes have the moral high ground here.

I see a dim glow approaching.

Closer.

Closer.

I try to shift myself behind cover to spring my trap, but the pains of my innards prevent me from moving.

For a second.

I manage to push past that feeling and pull myself to my feet. I move among bodies. Opened rotting corpses.

I have to lift the spiked steel sphere chained to my leg to simply take a step.

Closer.

Closer.

I dip behind a barrel at the gate of my cell. My “shared” cell.

“You’re an idiot,” a woman pronounces in a commanding tone. “Well, we’ll have to make sure she never learns of this incident.”

The two of them arrive at my cage.

“Fool,” she spits at him.

“Yes, sire,” the bumbling baboon stumbles over his mumbles. “I-I’m a fool.”

“You’ll be put to death for this,” she tells him. “You do understand that I can’t do much to prevent it?”

These two haven’t been here long but they make me sick.

“Uh…” escapes from the baboon as his eyes scan my dark and empty cell.

“You’ve lost it?” she turns her back to me. “You’d better hope you’ve lost it.”

“One second,” the man drops his club and flicks through his keys. “Hey!” he calls into the darkness shrouding me. ”Wakey, wakey!”

I spring my trap.

The ape stares at him with a blank expression while I sneak in from behind.

I throw one arm forward, and the steel chained to my ankle crashes to the ground with an alerting thump. I grip her tightly by the scruff and pull her skull tightly against the bars.

Taken aback by my procedure, the baboon trips backwards over his club.

I follow up immediately by reaching down for her leg. With my arms bound by another link, I release her neck as I move. Then, with one hand gripping the back of her knee, I pinch down while my other hand pulls her ankle through.

Now, with one leg pulled through, I rest my weight on her ankle and lift the weight chained to my ankle onto her thigh. I pull a wishbone from my wraps, snap it, and apply pressure to her calf.

I shoot an equally commanding look back to the baboon. “Keys.”

He understands the situation and crawls to his feet. He walks over in a sour mood and throws them down next to me.

“Which?”

The underling looks around and shifts uncomfortably in his place. “Smallest one.”

I unlock myself and restrain his superior.

I throw the keys back out. “Open up.”

He does so.

“Now, step back,” I tell him. “You’ll wait until I leave before coming after me again.”

He hobbles back, unarmed.

I struggle upward and lean against the bars while nearing the exit. I jog on the spot and try to fabricate energy that isn’t there.

I pass through the gate and begin my pathetic run away from the camp. I cross the bridge to locate a ladder to the ground.

Into the darkness.

A shakening. A rude awakening.

My sleep has become so light that crickets can ruin it.

Even if I was the heaviest sleeper in the world, the world could cripple me right now.

The wild shaking of the earth cuts short my temporary stay at the Council Mansion, and I find myself tripping outside of the building.

C - R - E - A - K.

I feel a powerful cracking in the wall, and it doesn’t take too long of a look to understand why.

I throw my hands away from the wall and make as much distance away as I can.

The quake from the collapse trips me to my chest.

I suppose I should be glad to be alive.

A pain at the side of my head requires attention.

I press against it to find a puddle in my hand.

I struggle to sit myself up.

Half of the mansion has been torn away and I see families through the clouds of dust.

“Get out of there!” I try to scream.

I clutch the side of my head.

Pain.

I look around only to see the world fall.

I turn to my right, toward screaming. I turn to my left, toward shouting.

Several soldiers fail against a figure. Someone lashing a dozen whips at once and manipulating them all so intricately.

The mansion crumbles once more, capturing my attention once more.

A body flies into me from the left and knocks me down.

I’m coated in blood. Only some of it’s mine.

This is insanity.

I struggle upward, tripping once more against a slab of stone. I push from that and break into a pathetic jog. I push the limits of my heart in my hurry to the open. Away from the mansion. Away from the castle.

As the gods complain, through the darkness I’m flung from an edge. I fall for only a moment.

Fortunately, something breaks my fall. Someone breaks my fall.

Stupid royals.

I feel an ominous shiver across my skin that triggers my eyelids to open.

“Uh,” Solomon ends his string of whispers. “We should speak later.”

Not a sound follows his dialogue but from the corner of my eye, I see a sort of mist dissipate.

“I apologise, young one. It’s a few hours before morning.” Solomon returns his quill to its inkwell and directs his attention to me - in the room across from him, borrowing his bed.

“I figured you might be tired after falling asleep during my explanation.”

I stretch a yawn and turn my eyes to the ceiling.

So comfortable.

“As a teller of prophecies, it’s natural that I know your future,” Solomon continues. “I see two blending endings of your story. This tells me you struggle in choosing your adventure.”

I continue staring. My body is too sore to do much else. Besides, this man kept me fed.

“I understand you have no quarrels with us - which is why I allowed you in. Or, I would hope you have no quarrels with us,” he chuckles. “I am getting old.”

My eyes drift over to him, sitting near his desk and keeping himself up with the grip of his walking cane.

“Perhaps this recent change in the world has blinded my vision.” 

I brush the blankets off and throw on the warm clothes he let me borrow.

“I don’t know what’s going on anymore,” he chuckles.

“Yeah,” I mumble. “Is that storm still on?”

“If you’ll believe it,” his expression returns to that of worry.

I pull up the woolly socks he gifted me and try on the slippers.

“No matter your gripes,” his eyes align with mine. “I urge you to assist the royals.”

I sigh.

“Epherum. Ala. They will help you choose the right conclusion.”

These are thoughts I can’t keep up with. “If I wouldn’t think of getting home, maybe that would be a possibility.”

“Hm,” Solomon strokes his beard. “Give them a genuine chance,” he suggests. “I wouldn’t like for you to face things alone.”

“I don’t think I’m good. Or bad. I think I’m necessary.”

“All the more reason you shouldn’t be alone.”

Quiet.

“Do you ever sleep?” I smile.

“Since my daughter’s been out of town, I’ve been getting a lot more done,” he laughs nervously.

Solomon clears his throat.

“They’ll be okay,” he says, almost in question.

I walk past him and warm his shoulders. “They’ll be okay,” I repeat.

“As fortunate as I am to be a prophet, as unfortunate I am to lose my days. This gift takes its toll, my girl.”

I sit back atop a mat near the door. Books all over. Eyes heavy.

“You wouldn’t like to try meditation would you, my dear? It’s good for the soul, and it’ll get you back to sleep.”

He joins me at the other side of the doorway.

“I’m often doing it for work,” he chuckles.

I let out a simple sigh. “I suppose I could try.”

Although, I don’t believe in this pseudoscience one bit. How could just sitting there help you in any way? In any way?

“Legs crossed, my friend.”

I cross myself.

Without looking, “Your arms are fine, my friend. Do with them what feels most natural for you.”

I uncross my arms and rest them on my thighs.

“Eyes closed, chin up. The idea is to use minimal energy here, so your posture is fine. Just try and keep yourself straight.”

I see the dancing flame at his desk through my closed eyes. My eyebrows feel crossed. I don’t think I’m doing it right.

With the changing tones of brown and orange through my eyelids, everything goes dark.

I peel open an eye to see the candle’s been put out.

Solomon taps me with his cane.

I go dark once more.

Just black.

The more tired I feel, the quicker a dreary night sky comes into view.

Shades of black, dark grey, blue, red, and purple blend together to make a piece of art in my mind. Specs of white appear to resemble stars.

Nothing.

| Author’s Notes |

~ Glossary ~
Cercope: a monkey-like person. Often born into thieves with no tolerance of being stolen from. (plural: Cercopes) [Greek]

~ Happenings ~
With Khali imprisoned by these people, for stealing a loaf of bread (Les Mis), they seem to be afraid of Myavor.
Khali falls upon Epherum and Ala escaping Nyrin. Khali doesn’t respect royals very much, especially Epherum and Ala, which is why a lowercase is used here. I wonder why she’s in Nyrin, or why she hangs around.
Solomon is often up all night ensuring the safety of his village. Solomon’s constant visions have him living in a blur, and always meditating in his free time.
Perhaps Solomon’s kindness and advice will turn Khali around for the better. There is something overall positive or necessary that he sees in her.
This Slip could be a likened to Inception. I just couldn’t find a way to include both segments of Khali’s story into the beginning of the book. I thought a memory inside a memory could be a nice, fun way to bring Khali’s story up to speed with everything.