⚜ Eleutheromania The frantic desire for freedom

A few days passed peacefully, if one considers being half-starved in the dungeons of a place once called home ‘peaceful’. There were no orders of swaying, no harsh baths, no easy-to-remove robes or fancy rooms with the curtains drawn shut. I was only ever needed every once in a while, anyway.

There was a lot of time to think, down in the dungeons. Not about escaping, no; I didn’t have the energy for that anymore ‒ or maybe some secret part of me still yearned for my big brother to save me. I could probably fill a library with all the things I thought while down in the dungeons, all the fantastical stories I dreamed up, all the questions of life I somehow answered….

Did I still know how to write? How to read? How do anything but sit and stare at stone walls and iron shackles? Was Prince Augustus still alive, somewhere deep inside me? Did just Augustus even exist anymore?

Augustus.

I had almost forgotten it. My mouth had not spoken my own name for a long time, and the only person I heard it from was Emperor Bianor. Could I even answer, if I was asked my name properly?

I stared blankly at my dirty, calloused hands, at my picked-at nails and raw, peeling wrists. I was no one. Just a tool. Just a beast to be set on misbehaving nobles whom the person I once called my brother was tired of.

There was no reaction from me as the cell door creaked open. I glanced up, tired gold eyes finding Emperor Bianor crouching near me. His blue eyes were set with annoyance and perhaps anger. What had I done now?

“Would you like to go outside, Augustus?”

I blinked. I had to have heard him wrong.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I shakily nodded, almost afraid of what he had planned.

The ghost of a smile flickered onto his face. “And I’m sure you’re quite hungry.”

I nodded again.

The smile grew wider. “How would you like to go on a little trip with me?”

“...A trip?” I cautiously echoed. “T-to where?”

“A noble near the Dragon Crest Mountains needs to be taught a lesson. A permanent one. I’m sure you’re quite hungry, all this time only eating half-rotten animal flesh. Wouldn’t you like to have a proper meal?”

I eagerly nodded, fixing him with a pleading gaze. Part of me didn’t even care about the prospect of eating someone. I just wanted to go outside. I just wanted to feel the wind again.

Bianor’s smile turned satisfactory. He stood up. “We leave tomorrow morning.”

And the cell door clanged shut once more.

⸺ ☽ ⚜ ☾ ⸺

I was dragged out of my cell in the early hours of the morning, although I didn’t know how early until I felt the cold of the winter’s night below my feet as I was guided up the stairs. Out of the dungeon. Even with the hood over my head, I could tell when we got to the main floor. The floors I used to run across with my brother, hiding from my tutors and those who looked at me with lust in their eyes.

I sharply gasped when I was dragged outside.

The cold cut into me like a freshly-sharpened knife. But I didn’t care. I was feeling something. I was feeling wind, and the crisp air of an early winter’s morning, and hearing the rustle of branches and the distant call of early birds and disturbed hounds. I heard the neighing of horses and the stamping of their hooves on the frosty cobblestone. I heard guards fall silent as I was guided past them.

“Wait. Take off the hood. Give him a moment.”

My throat tightened at Bianor’s order. Was he really just going to let me…?

The hood came off, and I came alive.

It was snowing. White flakes drifted past my wide golden eyes, caught in my lashes and curls. My breath fogged in front of me. Although I was shivering wildly, every bit of skin littered with bumps, with aches and pains and faded bruises everywhere, I had never felt so alive. Or maybe I had at one point, and just forgot about it. Although I stood in front of a wooden cell carriage, with heavy shackles on my wrists and ankles, I had never felt so free.

I slowly raised my head to see the sky. The stars, filling the inky blackness. The moons, three crescents of silver that made the white snow glow. Clouds drifted away from them, as though the goddesses were saying hello. I smiled at them, bittersweet tears coming to my eyes.

I was shoved into the cell carriage. The door slammed shut and firmly locked behind me. The carriage ‒ wagon, really ‒ was small, not even enough room to lay down fully, with a small barred window in the door. The barred windows along the sides had been boarded up, with only small cracks for me to peek at the world beyond. I took the opportunity, holding the bars and watching carefully as the dark, snowy gardens ‒ gardens I had once freely played in ‒ rolled past. My breath still fogged. My skin was still bumped with cold. The winter bit at my fingers and toes, at my face. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. At least I was feeling something. Something other than exhaustion and fear and pain. Hearing things other than the rattle of chains, the creak of old iron, and the scuffling of rats. Smelling things other than my own filth and the too-strong perfume of those who used me.

The air was crisp. It cleared the fog from my memories and allowed me to think properly for the first time in days. In months. In years. However long it had been.

How long had it been?

I sat back, thinking, but unable to find an answer. My mind was still spinning with the realization that I was outside. I was going somewhere. Yes, that somewhere was a place where I would eat someone, but I was outside. I could see it, and smell it, and hear it, and feel it.

I was outside.

⸺ ☽ ⚜ ☾ ⸺

Three days. It felt like longer. But, no, only three days. A simple three days of travel through the Ussuni Empire which my brother ruled. We passed through the capital city, which I had been sure to watch every second of, then through ever-smaller towns until we reached the countryside. The cell carriage remained cold, of course, and I heard the guards joke about setting it on fire to warm me up. All I had to keep warm was a simple blue blanket that wasn’t as threadbare as it could’ve been, thankfully.

It was only when I looked at the elaborate black embroidery on the edge did I realize that it was my blanket. The blanket that had been made for me when I was born, with the symbol of our kingdom ‒ the lotus flower, which grew in abundance in the many rivers of Ussuni ‒ stitched in one corner. The blanket I had been separated from since my parents threw me in that cell in the deepest level of the dungeons. It was still intact.

I fell asleep crying the first night.

On the third day of the journey, a bundle of clothes appeared. On the other side of the door, Bianor said, “We’ll be there by nightfall. Get dressed.”

And I did. I dare not lose grip of my blanket, not after all these years, so I discreetly pinned it around my waist with a spare chain, making sure to hide the lotus embroidery.

But when the carriage stopped for the last time, and I crawled out of it, Bianor snapped, “Blanket. Now.”

I whimpered, shying under his harsh gaze. Tears pricked my eyes. Some of the guards snickered. I removed the blanket from around my waist, shakily handing it over and rapidly blinking, head down. The tears fell. Bianor snatched it from my hand, making me flinch, then leaned closer. The protective charm dangled from his neck, glinting in the growing moonlight. I couldn’t look at him, and wouldn’t dare try.

“She will waste no time with you,” Bianor whispered. “Be sure to waste no time with her. And make sure she doesn’t make too much noise; do not alert the entire house to your… meal.”

I shakily nodded, whimpering.

He shoved me towards the manor.

The next few minutes were a blur, assisted by slowly-fading tears. I was guided into the house, hood up to hide my face as best as possible, up to the mistress’s room. All I could think about was my blanket, in the hands of my brother.

The mistress of the manor wasted no time with me.

With the thought of my blanket, I wasted no time with her.

I carefully pulled away from the bloodied remains after regaining my sanity. The carpet was soaked, as were my chest and my arms. I shakily stood up, stumbling and leaning on the bed. Her screams still rang in my ears, despite them being muffled by the blankets and pillows. I tried not to feel bad; I had seen her slaves on the way up, beaten and limping with eyes swollen shut and wearing rags worse than mine.

I fumbled for a blanket to wipe off most of the blood, then struggled to get dressed. My clothes had been thrown about the room, mingling with hers. I tried to keep my gaze away from what remained of the body.

Once I was dressed, I shakily left the room. Two guards were waiting, and they grabbed my arms and pulled me down the hall. Outside was dark, and the moons peeked through the dark clouds. They seemed larger than the crescents we had left back at the palace, watchful eyes of white and silver.

When I saw Bianor standing by the carriage, white snow caught in his black hair, with no sign of my blanket, something in me snapped.

I raised my hands and scratched wildly at the guards. I kicked them off me, turning to bolt into the woods as fast as my bare feet could carry me. I heard Bianor shouting, then the sound of horses and hounds. I ducked and weaved through the trees, pulling up my hood to try to hide my vivid red curls that would no doubt stand out wildly against the white woods. The snow grew heavier, and I could hear the horses growing more and more distant behind me. It was as though the goddesses themselves decided to aid in my escape.

I was escaping.

I ran and ran until I could hear no hounds or horses, no angry shouts of guards or the familiar voice of my once-caring brother. I ran until all I could hear was the howling of the wind and my heaving breaths. And then I ran some more. The mountains came up on either side of me, looming over me like protective siblings, replacing the caring brother I had lost. The moons crept across the sky.

I cried out as my foot hooked against something hard. I tumbled down a snowbank, and fumbled to hold my arms over my face and head. My body hit rocks and branches on the way down. My vision went black.