Chapter 9

Blink*

Micah was now able to see, but his arms ached.

He was barely able to move it, finding out quickly they were still tied.

It looked like it was a warehouse, full of boxes and tables.

Including various swordsmen in the same black outfits.

Micah, worried greatly—looked to the right, finding them in the same place.

"Peter?" he whispered.

He nodded, but he was still shaken in fear.

"These people—were they in your visions?"

Micah sighed—but then his eyes quickly shot up dumbfounded. "These were the people, and there were these people with white outfits!"

"Only if they were here," Peter noted. "But, it doesn't seem like that."

Hopelessly, Micah sighed.

"Well, we can always hope."

"Okay, let's hope that a bunch of swordsmen come to help for no reason."

After a very cross moment of silence, Micah stated, "After all, we are the king's son."

"I wish it was only you," Peter said, quickly correcting his words, "Well none of us were his son."

Micah glared down, "Same."

Hours passed, and they were ungratefully given some food.

Like now, they tossed the food, making some speed away from the plate.

"Thank you kidnappers," Peter shouted sarcastically. The man scowled.

"You better watch your mouth little boy, or you won't have one."

Peter rolled his eyes with a sour attitude.

Somehow, Micah found himself snickering slightly.

Peter looked at him with a vexed expression.

"Seriously?"

"What, you guys were funny."

"How can you laugh in a time like this?"

"Well, at least I can try and get my laughs in before it's too late."

Peter sighed. "Sorry, I've been hard on you, it's just. I just wanted to start again." Then, he looked away from him, hoping he wouldn't hear.

"I wish we just stayed at the orphanage," he sighed, letting down one small tear.

With a tenderhearted fashion, he leaned over to Peter.

"Well, we both had a risk of danger in there. After all, Mrs. James said—"

"Everything happens for a reason; yes I know," Peter finished.

Micah sighed pessimistically.

Suddenly, a big knock quickly reverberated amongst the warehouse.

Voices started sputtering out.

"Someone check the door!" someone ordered, employing many swordsmen to the wooden gate.

The knocks were now more constant, scaring but exciting Peter and Micah. "Who is it?" Peter asked, studying the panic between them.

Then—Crash*

Swordsmen in white clothing and riding on horses charged through the warehouse.

"Charge!!!"

The shout went into Micah's ears, who was frozen in surprise.

"It's them."

Peter frantically stared at Micah.

"Who?"

"Those people in my vision."

He now stared at the swordsmen, seeing the clashes between the swords.

A sense of danger was stinging into his instincts.

"We need to get out of here, now!"

"Agreed."

Micah and Peter strugglingly nudged up onto their feet.

They crept through the warzone, hoping not to get targeted by any sword.

Swords clanged on each other relentlessly, ringing inside the two friends' ears.

*Clang—Wa-plak*

One of the kidnappers was booted, sending him towards them.

"Watch out!" Peter shouted quickly. They swiftly dived to the next hiding box, dodging the thud of the soldier.

Thud*

Micah, looking around trepidatiously, shouted, "Do you see any escape?!"

"No, nothing yet!"

Micah grunted in frustration, looking ahead.

"Just go, we may find something!"

They finally revealed themselves out of their hiding spot, trying to keep distance from all the swords clanging.

They ducked towards a little table, quickly creeping under.

Suddenly, Micah, passing through, kicked the table, releasing all the glass into bits.

Crash*

"What was that for?" Peter asked, quickly stopping to view his plan.

Micah carefully grabbed one, struggling to raise it up.

"We can cut ourselves off," he explained. "Here, let me help you."

He quickly freed himself, crawling over to Peter quickly.

Soon enough, the glass quickly sliced through the rope, ripping it off.

They were rope-free now.

"Yes!" he shouted. "Now, let's get to that gate over there."

"Okay—let's move!"

Quickly getting up, there was an abrupt stop to their journey to the door.

A black swordsman, one of the kidnappers, raised his sword.

"You children aren't going anywhere, so find yourself a seat."

Peter's mouth was wide open in fear, staring at the sword that targeted his head.

Then unexpectedly—*Boof* Peter watched the man get pounced fastly to where he couldn't understand.

On the ground, a swordsman with white armor stared at them.

He had long blond hair to his shoulders, with smooth pale skin that matched with his crystal blue eyes.

His garment was presented with a long white jacket that had a little rope-tie in the middle, matching with the handle of his sword.

Slowly, he reached out his hand slowly introducing, "I'm Asiris, follow me."

Micah, not even thinking, followed behind him, forcing Peter to do the same.

"Okay, we need to get out of here quick before things go down."

"Okay, but um—who are you?"

"I just told you my name, didn't I?"

"Well yes, but—"

"The name is Asiris, general of the Heather army."

"Okay, I'm Pet—"

"Not now."

Asiris quickly gestured his hand to a stop. Examining closely, he spotted one escape that wasn't crowded by a bunch of troops.

Instantaneously, he looked at the two boys.

"Okay, see that door over there, leading to the back of the warehouse?"

"Yes?"

"Follow me there, if you see anyone, just scream for help or something."

"Okay," Peter confidently answered, getting his voice ready to shriek.

Asiris, from his walking speed, sped towards the door. "Wait hold up!" Micah shouted, rushing towards him.