Just A Pawn - Chapter 4 Help ? Has Arrived

-Shunk!

Pawn, hearing the sound, sat up and looked towards her iron cell door, she held no surprise regarding the sounds origin, as it had occurred nearly every day for the past 10 years of her life.

The sound was made by a small hatch installed in the doors base, it would open once a day to provide ‘sustenance’ to her.

She watched patiently as she sat at the opposite end of the 4 by 4 metre room, her wooden bowl, which she had left neatly at the doors base, was then refilled by a large ladle through the open hatch.

The ladle poured its contents into awaiting bowl as it had often done, and Pawn offered her ‘gratitude’ mechanically in response to it.

“Thanks, mysterious black sludge again today… my favourite,” said Pawn in a sarcastic tone while observing the bowls contents.

In truth, it wasn’t actually sarcasm, as ‘sludge’ was the prison’s only option, it came in any variety of densities, and every possible colour, but sludge, in the end, was still sludge.

In fact, there was a tradition among prisoners, whenever an unaware new inmate arrived, everyone would recommend the sludge.

She herself had started he tradition.

-Kerchunk!

“Hmph! Damn sarcastic spirit,” complained the owner of the ladle, after slamming shut the hatch.

Pawn crawled across the room and picked up the bowl, quickly drinking down its contents without the slightest hesitation.

“Ugh…” shuttered Pawn after having licked the bowl clean.

The sludge, though highly nutritious and filling, was unpleasant in every possible way, it could be summarized as distinctly byproduct-like in nature.

But even so, Pawn didn’t feel anger towards the demons who kept her here, not regarding the food, nor her stone accommodations, nor the torture she had gone through when she had first arrived, this was far better treatment than what spirits would do to demons after all.

The spirits, in general, saw no difference between ‘order,’ the concept that governed their existence, and ‘justice,’ and thus felt justified in any actions they may take.

Meanwhile, the demons, followers of chaos, were ironically far more tolerant in their thinking, as chaos equated not only to disorder, but creativity and differences in ideals as well.

The person who Pawn was angry towards, was Lumin, her former sister who had betrayed and abandoned her.

Pawn, did not regret trying to make the most of her magic, nor the saving of two small children, regardless of their origin, Lumin, and Lumin alone, was the one responsible for anything the demons did to her, in her mind at least, and she would remember all of it for the day she would once again meet her sister.

Pawn then set the bowl back in font of the iron door and returned to the spot where she had previously been laying.

She then put her hand against the wall and allowed her magic to flow into it.

(Three more day’s ’till I escape, just three more,) thought Pawn, she had spent the past 10 years layering enchantments onto her cell wall, enchanting the prison itself to crumble at her command.

In three days was a holiday which would reduce the security, during which she would bring down the walls and escape in the resulting confusion.

Pawn then went to sleep, having dreams of her soon to arrive freedom.

Several hours later…

Pawn, who had been sleeping, was abruptly awoken by a sudden voice, it was accompanied by a strong impact to her ribs.

“On your feet prisoner!” shouted the raspy sounding male voice.

“Ugh!?” grunted Pawn in response to both the impact and the sound, quickly brought back to consciousness by the unexpected stimulation.

She looked frantically at her surroundings, only to notice that they had now completely changed, she was now on a shiny black stone floor which served as a foundation for the largest room she had seen in the past decade, about as big as football field that had been sliced in half.

The walls seemed to be made of a very ornately decorated pure form of iron, while the ceiling mirrored the floor in appearance, and in a literal sense due to how reflective it was, it suspended an iron chandelier which was adorned with glowing red stones.

“That’s enough, Owen… now leave us, and send the other two in,” ordered a second voice, this one elegant and female, Pawn’s attention was immediately drawn towards its source.

‘Owen,’ the large man, had an appearance which consisted only a black robe, black collar, and a white ‘bored-looking’ mask, it was in the style of the ‘comedy and tragedy’ ones used to represent theatre.

He didn’t question his mistress’ orders at all and immediately left the room as commanded, leaving Pawn alone with the owner of the second voice.

A young girl sat on a black throne which was overly padded with red cushions, the throne existed roughly a dozen meres to Pawn’s front.

A elegant looking girl sat in it in a ‘noble-like’ pose, back straight, knees together, hands resting atop her lap, she had blood red hair, red irises, and wore a red sleeveless dress, her skin was pale and flawless.

(Red, typically the colour of wrath demons,) observed Pawn as the demon formed her lips into a strange smile.

“Some little bats told me that you’re actually a support spirit, tell me, what do you think of that revelation?” the apparent wrath demon got straight to the point, asking a question that somewhat startled Pawn.

She had hidden the fact that she was actually a support spirit, pretending to be a combat one as support types were hated by the majority of her ‘former’ kin, so who knows how a demon would react.

(Who could have told them? No, it doesn’t matter, so long as I don’t say yes, I’ll be fine) she sat on her knees, atop the floors surface gritting her teeth as she thought.

(But regardless, them asking at all does not bode well does it?) Pawn asked rhetorically in her own mind, not expecting an answer.

“Isn’t ‘well’ just a matter of perspective, like all things are?” replied the girl to Pawn’s thoughts while wearing a cheerful smile.

(Mind reading…) realized Pawn internally, she had been hoping to never encounter such a demon, before escaping at least.

(But who told her in the first place, there shouldn’t be-) began Pawn, but she was promptly interrupted by a voice coming from behind her.

“Hello miss support spirit, been a while, eh?” said a casual sounding voice, followed immediately by a childish sounding one.

“We’ve come to rescue you~?” said the second voice in an exited tone.

Pawn turned her head to observe the two newcomers.

The owner of the second comment was standing proudly, despite the shackles now binding her hands, she was clearly not aware of the danger she had brought on Pawn, herself, and her similar looking partner.

The second individual, had a more stoic appearance, she seemed to understood the situation well enough to not be exited about it at least.

“You… shouldn’t have,” said Pawn to the two that had ruined her escape plan, sounding as if she had just received compost as a Christmas present…