Trouble it is

Ɵ

After the beating, Alastor closed his eyes, his mouth is moving as if he’s counting, the blood from his cheek stream down onto his jaw. He gasped for air and did widely expelling of air. The door opened and the elf carries tattered clothes that were fashioned into a bag. He scanned her and can’t see his sword. The wrinkles on her forehead form as his brows arched.

“I don’t see my sword. Where is it?”

“I don’t know, someone must’ve kept it.”

“That’s alright. All I need is a knife.”

“I have one here.”

“Good. Now, I want you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to use your magic to untie these chains.”

“What?”

“You’re not good at lying. I know you can use magic. Don’t ask. The other guard will come back here. He's gonna tell the others if he finds out.”

“Fine.”

She kneeled and place her hands on the chains. The chains began to chain their color and return to normal.

“What did you do?” Alastor asked.