The War of the Roil: The Knight and the Warlock

Chapter 2: Enter the Arcane

"C'mon!" Edmund called at Gerard from behind a set of iron bars, "She was a noble woman, Gerry! She didn't need it!"

"Precisely because it was a member of the Noble class, I now have to do another mountain of paperwork to prevent Lord Shawe from transferring you out of the Crownsguard's hands and into his." Gerard grumbled.

Edmund scoffed, "Just let him take me. It's not like I couldn't escape."

"He will nail you to the walls to bind you." Gerard said.

Edmund was silent after that. For about nine seconds.

"So...what kind of execution do you have planned for me this time? Something a tad more creative than hanging, perhaps?" Edmund asked.

"Just shut up and let me work."

Edmund waited as Gerard turned his back to him. He quietly slid to the left side of the garrison building's cell. Slowly, he shook a stone brick free and glanced in the dark hole.

"Shit." His set of lock picks had been stolen. Edmund returned the brick and stood, searching the top ledge of the riveted iron frame that held the bars with his fingers. The spare key was also missing.

Soon enough, Gerard left for the day. A few other shifts went by, but Edmund was left helpless. He had checked every one of his contingencies. Even the lock pick under the latrine bucket.

When night rolled around, he resorted to trying to wear the lock with sheer force when no one was looking.

"Son of a..." Edmund clutched his hand after bruising it on the metal lock.

"Hey...cut that out." an uninterested voice echoed from beyond the bars.

There was one guard still left in the garrison building. Edmund hadn't been paying attention to his shift change, but the soldier must've only had an hour or two left on his shift.

He didn't want to use his last resort, but he was being watched. And if that front door was locked for the night, he could kiss his chance at freedom goodbye.

Edmund took a cautionary breath before reaching into his boot. From a small hidden pouch sewn into the inside, he drew a piece of a small beige wafer.

A God Shard. Well, a fraction of one.

The funny thing about these inconspicuous little pieces of stale bread is that they had a special substance in them that all the noble houses wanted to get their hands on.

Edmund didn't really know what that substance was, but he knew enough to know what would happen if he ate one.

Edmund popped the wafer in his mouth. Bland. Not necessarily bad, but the lack of freshness was enough to make them unappetizing. But then again, no one ate a God Shard to satiate hunger.

Edmund took another breath of hesitation and glanced at the guard. He was surely tired. Easy to trick.

The God Shard introduced a new kind of energy into his body: The Five Wells.

He felt two of them in his veins. Kogniirok and Sylvanor.

Edmund combined powers from his wells, casting a Truthfler. He slipped his hands through the bars and concentrated on the lock that kept him in the cell.

Using water in the air, the Truthfler chilled it, frosting over the metal. Edmund kept the freezing going as quiet as he could manage as to not alert the guard. Though the fler took a continuous drain on the power he had available.

It wasn't long before Edmund ran out of power. He had no choice but to check if the metal was brittle enough. He reached his hand through the bars and yanked on the lock. Nothing.