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Chapter 25

After his punishment was over, Thorolos began to fall into a routine. Wake up, eat, work, talk to Zedryn, visit the prisoner. He had started saving parts of his meals to give to her. A little bit here, a chunk there, and with every passing meal he built up decent piles of food for her.

After the whole fiasco with Synarth's food, she had forgotten to take back the order tablet. Thorolos could write whatever he wanted on it and nobody would question him, no matter what he did. Who would look twice at a servant "following orders"?

He would talk to the prisoner almost every day, sometimes for hours on end. Gradually, as he talked with her more and more, he began to see her as a friend. But, no matter how he probed her for information, she wouldn't give him anything. No details about her life, how long she was down here, what she did to end up locked beneath tons of stone and ice. She only ever pressed him for details about the outside world. However, he had come up with his master plan. With his stolen tablet, he had been forging orders for bloodwine. He had enough now to get two fully grown dragons exceptionally drunk, and he was anything but fully grown. Thorolos had tasted the stuff at royal banquets before. It was a vile, disgusting liquid, but it warmed the belly and loosened the tongue, and he was sure the prisoner would appreciate a few short hours of intoxication.

Thorolos packed the tablet with forged orders to deliver food to the prisoner, stuffed the wineskins into several of his leather pouches, and began the long walk down to the prisoner's cell. He padded down the path, now almost completely memorized, lost in thought. He imagined her reaction to the wine, imagined all of the stories she had to tell. Stories of the outside world, of some far off land where she grew up. He might even be able to get her to tell him her name. He was about to take the final left towards the prisoner's cell, but a pack of dragons rushed through the intersection, barely even glancing at him. Yhorrom was being carried at the center of the group, unconscious. They had come from the prisoner's cell.

He snapped out of his pleasant stupor. He glanced after the pack of dragons. They had already turned a corner and disappeared. Why were they at the prisoner's cell? He looked down at the floor of the tunnel. A trail of blood led from the cell to where the group of dragons had disappeared to.

He started sprinting down the path to the prisoner's cell, feeling the still fresh blood coat his paws. He rounded a corner, almost slipping without his claws to catch him, and came to the stone barrier that separated the prisoner from the outside world.

The trail of blood led all the way to the wall and through the hole. He was puzzled for a moment. Not even a hatchling dragon could have fit through the small hole at the bottom of the wall. Maybe his fears were unfounded. Maybe the blood was from some freshly slaughtered prey animal they brought to her.

"Hey! I, uh, have a bit of a surprise for you," Thorolos said as he started to get the bloodwine out of the pouch on his chest. "I know I normally bring food, and I did, but I also managed to get a little something extra." He slid one wineskin through the small hole at the bottom of the door. He watched it to see if she took it, but it didn't move.

"Uh, hello? Anyone home?" he joked, starting to get worried again. No answer. He tried to look through the hole. He couldn't see anything but the cold, stone walls of the cell, and a lightly pulsing pillar of ice near the back of the room. Thorolos started to panic. He couldn't lose one of his only friends. Within the next week... tomorrow, he realized with a jolt, he was going to lose either his father or his eldest brother. As terrible as they were, they were family, and he had little enough of that left. He put his shoulder against the wall. It was hard, cold. Solid. He backed up and charged into the wall without thinking. Agony shot through his wing. He had ran straight into his wounded joint. He cradled it with a foreleg. It was probably dislocated. It started oozing blood yet again. Thorolos grit his teeth in frustration and pain, and charged at the wall again.

He stumbled straight through the stone.

He tried to catch himself, but ended up falling flat in the middle of the cell. What? What just happened? he thought. The wall he had stumbled through was still there. Still looked as solid as ever. He glanced around, thinking to ask the prisoner what in the twelve hells just happened. A huge, purple form was lying in a pool of deep, red blood, motionless. There were deep cuts all along her ribs, her wing membranes were shredded, and a horn was missing. He stared, shocked. Had they killed her? Did they find out about her and Thorolos' friendship and decide to put an end to it?

He ran over to her. He felt for a pulse, expecting the worst. However, the pulse he felt was as strong as any dragons'. He backed off, shocked. As he watched, her wing membranes stitched themselves back together. The wounds in her sides closed, scarred, and faded in a matter of minutes. She let out a small groan, and she stretched out her limbs. However, even as the rest of her healed, her horn remained missing. Thorolos watched in shocked silence. She opened her eyes and yelped, jumping back away from him. She sized him up quickly before darting forward. Before he knew what had happened, his legs were swept out from under him and her crushing weight was pressed down on his ribs. One of his wings was pinned painfully beneath him.

"Ah- Stop," he choked out. "I'm the servant! T-Thorolos!"

Confusion spread across her face.

"What? You're that servant? How'd you get in here?"

"You tell me! I just fell through the wall!"

She scrambled off of him and sat back. Now that he could see her fully, he could tell her purple scales were no trick of the light. They were a deep, royal purple that faded to a creamy lavender on her belly and the underside of her neck. She lay the ground, wincing, and looked up at him.

"Sorry for attacking you. Waking up and seeing some strange dragon inside my cell... well, normally, visitors don't here for the best of intentions."

"Y-you get visitors regularly?" he sputtered out. "How... what... what in the twelve hells is going on?"

"Calm down, okay? I'll try to answer some of your questions, as long as you'll answer some of mine," she said. He didn't think that it was fair of her to make sure he would answer her questions. He'd been answering everything she asked of him for the past few weeks!

"Deal. First off, what should I call you? I don't want to have to keep calling you 'you'." She sighed.

"Guess I couldn't keep it from you forever. Nyrimyrinx. I was called Nyrimyrinx." Thorolos smiled.

"What caused this change of heart? I've been pestering you for days, and now you just tell me?"

"I thought you would just be an interesting distraction. Thought you would get caught, or moved around, or just get bored of talking to me. Now, though..." she trailed off. He remembered the wine he had brought.

"Ah, hold on!" he said, running over to grab the unopened skin. He presented it to her proudly.

Nyrimyrinx wrinkled her snout. "Bloodwine?"

"Yes...?" Thorolos said, suddenly unsure of himself.

"Never been much of a drinker myself, but what the hells. Why not?" She held out a paw for the skin, and Thorolos passed it to her. She drained the entire skin before pulling back. A shiver shot through her body. "Euck. Stronger than they used to make it back home."

Thorolos smiled. "Yeah. The stuff here is pretty - well, very - strong. So, wh-" Thorolos started.

"Oh, no, it's my turn to ask you something," Nyrimyrinx said. "How did you manage to get the royal blood to open up the cell door? Were you cleaning up the trail that led here and used some to get in? I know you aren't stupid enough to try to attack royalty for it."

"What? Why would I steal 'royal blood'? What would I need it for?" Thorolos said, confused. He took a long draft of bloodwine and gagged.

"What? You didn't... open the cell on purpose?"

"No. Well, I was trying to get in, but I didn't expect it to actually work!" Thorolos said with a chuckle. "Speaking of which, how do you open your cell? I just sort of ran into the wall, and it opened."

She looked at him, shocked. "Wait, there wasn't any sort of spell or, I don't know, ritual to open it?"

"No... wait, what? Spell? What are you talking about?"

"You're serious? You just ran at the wall and it opened?"

"Well, the first time I just ran into it. Hurt just as much as any other wall. And I wouldn't say opened is the right word. It was still there, I just fell through it."

Nyrimyrinx covered her head with her paws. "I thought I had figured it out. I thought I had figured everything out," she muttered quietly. Thorolos gently padded over to her. He lifted a paw to comfort her, but hesitated.

"If it makes any difference, I... I guess I have 'royal blood'? I was a prince before my Father, well..." Thorolos said. She jerked her head up.

"You're serious?"

"Well, yeah," Thorolos said defensively. Nyrimyrinx started laughing.

"Hey! I'm being serious!" Thorolos protested. He didn't think he looked so, well, servantile that the possibility of being a prince was just some joke to her.

"No, no, it's not that!" she said. "Do you have any more bloodwine?"

Thorolos, confused, searched his packs for another skin. The bloodwine he drank was already starting to warm his cheeks, and the pulsing blue light coming from the pillar of ice seemed comforting. Nyrimyrinx was still chuckling uncontrollably. Despite himself, he laughed a bit. Her joy was infectious. He passed her another skin, and she downed the whole bag.

"What are we laughing about?" Thorolos asked, still a bit confused.

"You can get me out of here!"

Chapter 26

"Wait, what?" Thorolos asked.

"You're royalty! You can get me free!" Nyrimyrinx exclaimed.

"What? No, I... I can't get anything anymore. I'm just a servant now," Thorolos said.

"That doesn't matter."

"Wait, let's slow down a bit. Even if I could get you out, what would you do? We are as deep within the center of the Glaciaren palace as we could possibly be. What would I do? I would be a wanted criminal of the highest order!"

Nyrimyrinx frowned, puzzled.

"We would leave the palace. You would come with me. It doesn't matter if you grew up a prince; you said it yourself, you're just a servant now. Not wanted, not cared for. If we escaped, you would be my savior, my freedom. My only friend."

"Excuse you! I have friends here, too! Safety! A life! And besides, I don't know anything about you! Why are you down here? What in the twelve hells was going on when I first fell into your cell? You looked like you had just been torn apart!"

Nyrimyrinx look hurt. She sighed. "I guess expecting you to just up and leave was a little presumptuous of me. I'll tell you what I can if it will get you to trust me more."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I can't remember... a lot of things. Part of that is just due to being in here for so long, but... well, everything from before I got captured is a bit hazy. I remember that I was in a clan of other dragons. I remember... I..." She frowned. She shook her head vigorously. "I can't remember. I could have sworn that..." she trailed off. "I don't remember how they captured me, how I was imprisoned, how they got me under here, how they enchanted the door, or got the pillar of ice to glow. They are both unbreakable, and believe me, I've tried."

"Unbreakable? Then how do you expect me to get you out?" Thorolos asked.

"How did you get in?"

"...Ah," Thorolos said.

"Anyway, I've been down here for close to... three... no, two thousand years."

"Two thousand?" Thorolos sputtered. "How are you still alive?"

She cocked her head at him. "That's... not quite how I would have phrased that. I'm still alive for the same reason that I've been kept down here all this time. I can heal from basically anything, and I can take the injuries of others onto myself. That's what was going on when you first came in here. Some royal got on another's bad side, but was too important to die. I've seen it a thousand times."

"You can heal... anything? How?" Thorolos asked.

"Yeah." She looked at his wing. "Here, let me show you." She padded around his side to inspect his still-bleeding joint. She poked at the skin around the wound, where scales had failed to grow back. Thorolos winced. She nodded. "I can help with this. Gonna have to, if we want to get out of here. Not like I can carry you. D'you want me to help with your claws too?" she said in a rush.

"Yeah? I guess," Thorolos said.

"Okay," Nyrimyrinx said, taking a few deep breaths. "These aren't as bad as the noble's wounds, so I should heal pretty quickly. This might hurt a bit," she said as she grabbed his neck and squeezed, piercing small holes in the scales around his throat, but barely pricking the skin underneath. Her grip was strong, though, and Thorolos coughed for air.

As small beads of blood welled up around her claws, Thorolos felt a sharp pain in his wing. It was temporary, though, and he could feel flesh stitching itself together over his wound. Just as the pain from his wing subsided, agony shot through his paws. It was all he could do to hold back a scream. Thorolos felt Nyrimyrinx's grip tighten. She still had her claws around his throat, but her eyes were squeezed shut and her jaws were clenched.

Thorolos felt claws slowly push their way out of his fingers, ripping through scarred flesh. Before he had time to fully understand what was going on, Nyrimyrinx let go of his throat and stumbled back. Thorolos held up a paw and marvelled at each flawless new claw. Aside from how clean they looked, they were identical to his old claws. He craned his head back to look at his wing joint. It was perfect, even down to the fine, pebbly patchwork of scales that was unique to each dragon.

"...Wow..." Thorolos breathed in amazement. He looked to Nyrimyrinx. She was lying on her side, favoring a wing, missing her claws. She had opened her eyes and, despite her clenched jaws, tried to smile at him. He opened his mouth to ask if she was okay, but as he watched, new claws slowly began to poke out of each finger, and the wound on her wing joint began to close.

Thorolos stretched out his wings, expecting some sort of pain, but it was like the injury had never happened. Even the soreness that came with not opening them for weeks was gone.

"Thank you," Thorolos said quietly. Nyrimyrinx slowly stood up, gripping the ice with her new claws.

"Now you owe me," she joked.

Thorolos marvelled at the purple dragon that stood before him. She had forced his hand in the kindest possible way. With claws and wing healed miraculously, there was no way he could just go back to being a servant. Somebody would get suspicious, someone would start asking questions, and eventually, there would be hell to pay. And... well, why wouldn't he want to escape? With a magical healing dragon at his side, he could explore the world. Escape this cramped hole. The castle was all he had ever known, besides his unpleasant stint of slavery. He wanted to explore. He always had.

"You're right, I do owe you. How do you expect us to get out of here?" Thorolos asked, finally making up his mind. Nyrimyrinx beamed, and Thorolos could see all of the tension leave her body.

"Well, we can't just walk out. I've tried before, and the wall doesn't let me through. One of the only memories I have is of the Glaciaren king that captured me breaking off this horn," she said, pointing at her missing horn, "and I'm pretty sure it's in that pillar. I... uh, don't really know what getting it out will do or if it will even help us get out, but it's a start," she finished in a rush.

"...Okay? You said the pillar was unbreakable, though."

"Yeah, well, the door is triggered by royal blood, right? So I thought: maybe the pillar is, too."

"You think?"

"I'm sorry, I haven't broken out of here before! I'm just guessing here, and this is the best idea I could come up in the last five minutes! If you want to try to come up with something better, be my guest," Nyrimyrinx said, obviously frustrated. She huffed and glared at Thorolos, waiting for an answer.

"Sorry, you're right. I'll try... using royal blood?" Thorolos said. He wasn't completely sure what he was doing, but then again, he didn't know what he was doing when he opened the cell. He took a single, new claw and dragged it lightly across the pad of one paw. The tips of the claws were razor sharp, not having been dulled by years of scraping across ice, and it sliced deeper than he was expecting. He flinched, but he took his paw and placed it against the pillar of ice.

As soon as he touched the cold, smooth surface of the pillar, the light it emitted changed to a deep, bloody red. Nyrimyrinx let out a small gasp. Thorolos started to sink into it. Every inch of his arm felt as if it had been thrust into one of the massive boiling pots in the kitchens. He yanked his arm back. It was unscathed. He looked up at the pillar. The surface was pristine, and the light had changed back to its blue hue.

Chapter 27

Thorolos looked over to Nyrimyrinx. She looked just as shocked as he felt, but her shock was mixed with a desperate anticipation.

"Did you get it?"

"No! It felt like my arm was being melted off! You can breathe fire, right? Why don't you just melt the ice?"

"I've tried. Doesn't do anything."

Thorolos sighed and looked down at his paw. It was still slowly oozing blood. He closed his eyes and thrust his arm back within the pillar. The boiling pain came back, but he grit his teeth and began to feel around. He searched for the horn blindly. After what felt like ages, his claws closed around something hard. The room went dark. Thorolos yanked his arm back out, gasping. Within his claws was a dragon's horn. Outside of the ice, it was almost blinding to look at. Thorolos squinted and looked away, but Nyrimyrinx stared at it, unblinking.

"Here, take it! Thorolos said, thrusting the horn towards her. She gently grasped it and lifted it to her head. She held it to where the stump of her horn jutted out. The instant the horn met the stump, it let out an ear splitting crack, and the room went black. Within an instant, there was nothing but the soft sound of the two dragon's breath.

"So... do you feel more free?" Thorolos asked into the darkness.

"Not really? I, uh, expected more, honestly." He heard a few pops, like she was cracking her neck. "Feels good to finally be balanced again, though."

"No returned memories? No new escape plan?"

"Nope. Why don't we just try to leave?" she asked.

"Uh, okay?" Thorolos said. He searched around for false wall that led to freedom. All four of the walls of the cell were solid. He could feel the small hole at the bottom of one wall. It felt just as solid as the others. He placed his bloody paw against the wall, and after a moment, he stumbled through.

"Come on, let's go!" Thorolos whispered forcefully. He could barely see the wall, let alone the dragon walking through it, but he could hear her gasp as she padded after him.

He led them up the passage. Thorolos was surprised at how much grip his claws afforded him on the ice. He had forgotten how much he had relied on them. Nyrimyrinx, however, wasn't so lucky. Her claws lacked the crucial serrations that the Glaciarens used to grip the slick ice. He heard her slipping and cursing quietly behind him as they walked through the passages.

Before they reached the first crossroads, Thorolos froze. Nyrimyrinx bumped into him, almost knocking him over.

"Why'd we stop?" she whispered.

"How are we going to get out? The servant tunnels' only exits lead right into the palace!" Thorolos began to panic. They couldn't go through the palace's main halls; there were always guards patrolling the main corridors.

"What? There has to be a way out!"

"For servants? They aren't trying to let us escape!"

"Well, how do you get rid of waste? Don't tell me you have to carry it out through the main hall!"

Thorolos berated himself for not thinking of it sooner. There were several trash chutes that the servants used to dispose of the palace's waste. He had no idea where they led, though. They could lead straight to a dead end with no way out, they could lead to the bottom of the ocean, they could lead to the center of the planet, for all he knew! He racked his brain for any other answer, any better way out of this situation, but nothing came up.

"Ah, damn. Okay, we have one trash chute close to here. I have no idea where it could lead, but it probably leads out."

"Lead the way," Nyrimyrinx whispered.

Thorolos started on the path to the chute. "Why are you so calm about all of this?" Thorolos whispered as he padded down the halls as quickly as he could.

"Well, what are they going to do to me if the catch us? They can't kill me, and I doubt that they have another... enchanter? I doubt they can reseal me."

"They can kill me!" Thorolos whispered, indignant.

Nyrimyrinx looked down, embarrassed. "I... I, uh, guess they can. Still, will panicking help us?"

"No," Thorolos said, still panicking. He ran down the corridor as quickly as he could, cringing every time one of his claws clicked against the ice. He led Nyrimyrinx through the servant's passages, giving the dormitories as wide a berth as he could. Once or twice, they had to duck down a side corridor to hide from a servant hustling back from some order in the far corners of the palace, but for the most part, they didn't encounter anyone.

The trash chute was located in one of the most heavily trafficked rooms in the palace, as near to the outer walls as possible. Thorolos didn't know how long it was, how steep the walls got. He didn't even know if it was large enough for either of them to fit through. Despite all of this, he couldn't think of a better plan. The prisoner was rarely visited, which gave them a bit of a head start, but it wouldn't be long before they were being hunted.

Thorolos peaked his head into the room. It was empty. They were lucky it was a sleepy day, otherwise the place would be streaming with servants hauling trash to the chute. The chute itself was a massive hole in the center of the room. When the servants needed to dispose of anything, they brought it to one of the six massive chutes, spaced evenly throughout the palace.

The pit itself angled down steeply from the center of the room. It was wide enough at the mouth for a dragon to spread their wings, so if someone fell in, they could fly out. However, it got very narrow, very quickly.

"This is our best chance. Let's go," Thorolos whispered. Nyrimyrinx dashed over to the chute and hopped in without hesitation. Thorolos ran to the lip and peeked over. Nyrimyrinx had already slid noiselessly out of sight.

"Hey!" a voice called pleasantly. Thorolos jumped, startled. One of his paws slipped over the edge, and he plummeted in. As he fell, he caught sight of a horrified Zedryn, watching him fall into the pit.

Thorolos flared his wings, slowing his fall. He was about to fly out, to let Zedryn know he was okay. To say goodbye. But he stopped himself. If he flew out, Zedryn would know his wing had healed. He didn't think that Zedryn would report them, but if he knew and didn't say anything, he would be accused of treason. Still, he wished he had been able to say goodbye. Now, he was forced to leave Zedryn with the guilt of scaring him into one of the trash chutes without the ability to fly out. Wait. How much had he seen?

Thorolos' paws struck the steeply sloped ice, sending a painful jolt through his legs. He dragged his claws along the ice, slowing his fall without stopping him. He looked up at the top of the chute. Zedryn stuck his head over. Thorolos could barely catch a glimpse of his face before Thorolos slid deeper into the pit, and Zedryn vanished from sight.

Had Zedryn seen Nyrimyrinx? If he had, would he report them? Would he send guards to chase them? A thousand more questions raced through his mind, but he forced them out. He had more pressing matters at hand. He was skidding tail first down a trash chute that led who-knows-where. It quickly got too dark to see clearly, but he could tell the walls were closing in around him. The walls of inky black grew closer until he could have easily touched them with his wings.

Suddenly, his claws grasped at open air. A freezing gust of wind buffeted him, plummeting him deeper into the pitch black pit. He flared his wings, righted himself, and rode the gust to the cavern floor. It was a disturbingly short glide. The wind that had carried him died down, and the smell of the pit hit him in earnest. He wrinkled his nose.

"Eugh," Thorolos groaned. "Nyrimyrinx? Did you make it down alright?" he called out.

"Yeah!" she called. Her voice sounded distant.

"I guess I should have expected something like this," Thorolos called. "I knew this was the waste disposal, but I had expected something more... elegant."

Nyrimyrinx laughed from across the cavern. "This is nothing! You should have seen the sewers of Kal'Kaathan!"

"Kal'ka-what? I've never heard of it." Thorolos took to the air, trying to follow Nyrimyrinx's voice. A pillar of orange light shot up in front of him. It was almost blinding after the pure darkness of the cavern. He alighted next to Nyrimyrinx just as she shot up another pillar of flame. Heat washed over him and he staggered back.

"Gah! Right here!"

"Oh, sorry. Well, what's next?" Nyrimyrinx asked. Thorolos thought for a second.

"Well, we could try following the wind. If the air is coming from the chute, it has to be leading out somewhere. If we follow it, there might be a way out into the open."

"Not necessarily a way big enough for a dragon."

"Maybe, but it's the best shot we have," Thorolos said. He took off, with Nyrimyrinx close on his tail, and they soared on the wind through the complete darkness.

"You know what?" Nyrimyrinx asked.

"What?"

"This is a much better surprise than wine."