The Prisoner of Floyd

The forest was a sight to behold, with trees swaying and dancing to the tune of the wind. Above, fluffy clouds dotted the vast sky as the sun made its daily descent into the horizon. Each tree was painted with brilliant colors, waving its branches as if beckoning Jun to follow them deeper into the unknown.

But Jun's journey had been anything but easy. He had been hiking for hours without any water, his parched throat aching for even a drop. The ponds that dotted the countryside seemed unfit to drink from, teeming with potential parasites. The scorching sun only made things worse, aggravating his already-existing sunburn and leaving him dehydrated and exhausted.

His thoughts strayed to Valene and Bryxton, the companions he had left behind in hiding. Had they managed to escape? Did Bryxton receive the medical care he needed? The uncertainty weighed on Jun's mind, his thoughts spiraling out of control until he was startled by the sound of galloping hooves. In a panic, he dove into a nearby bush, narrowly avoiding crushing his trusty lute.

As the sound of the horse's retreat faded away, with the slightest hesitation, Jun emerged from the bush. It felt ridiculous to hide like a criminal, but the threat of being accused of the deaths of two Alestrian Knights loomed large. Just when despair threatened to overwhelm him, Jun spotted a stream of smoke rising above the treetops. In a world without digital maps or GPS, the simplest things often held the most valuable information. Smoke meant fire, and fire meant people. With newfound hope, Jun set off in the direction of the smoke, determined to find someone.

With each cautious step, Jun moved through the thick foliage, his senses heightened by the possibility of danger lurking in the shadows. It could be his friends Valene and Bryxton waiting for him or a cold-blooded killer ready to strike at any moment.

As he emerged into a clearing, Jun's eyes scanned the area, searching for any signs of trouble. A plume of smoke caught his attention, drawing him closer to investigate. With each step, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking into a trap. What if he stumbled upon a group of heavily armed knights who were hunting him down?

But his worries were unfounded. As he approached the source of the smoke, he saw a palisade in the distance. Another town, different from the last, with a river acting as a natural moat to protect the city walls. Following the river to the north, he found a bridge leading across. An old wooden sign greeted him, "Welcome to Niebaum." Finally, a sense of relief washed over him, and he could breathe easy for the first time in hours.

Jun straightened his clothing, dusting off his lute and sword, preparing himself for what lay ahead. With a newfound sense of safety, he ventured into the town. However, the peaceful atmosphere was short-lived as Jun heard the sound of chaos erupting from the town square. People were yelling, and he could sense that something terrible was happening.

His instinct was to turn around and head back to Mertia Village, but it was impossible. The sun was already setting, and he was dehydrated and exhausted. He needed to find shelter for the night, and Niebaum was his best bet. As he approached the town square, Jun saw a well-dressed man on the front steps of a grand building, wiping sweat from his brow while the crowd around him shouted and jeered.

Jun couldn't care less about the commotion going on around him. All he had his sights set on was the tantalizing well, complete with a trusty bucket and rope pulley. Like a man possessed, he made haste towards the water source, his movements as swift and silent as a panther on the prowl. With deft hands, he yanked the bucket up and out of the well, savoring the cool, refreshing water quenching his parched throat.

The liquid gushed down his throat like a dam bursting open, his dire thirst being quenched. He drank like he had been wandering in a desert for days. Satisfied, he placed the bucket back in the well and took a moment to survey his surroundings.

The villagers, embroiled in a heated argument with the noble, paid him no attention. Voices rose in anger as accusations flew, each person venting their grievances. One man's cries of, "He treats us like dogs!" were met with agreement from the crowd.

But the noble seemed unfazed, with a sympathetic expression on his face. "I understand your pain," he said, trying to placate the villagers. "I too have lost a brother to the Pachan Dungeons. The King..."

But he was cut off by a woman's voice from the crowd. "He is a delusional old man chasing his own ridiculous fantasies!" Her husband tried to calm her down, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. "We've had enough of Quaerere searches. We won't tolerate another!"

As the argument raged on, Jun's attention was diverted by a sudden movement in his peripheral vision. A person was climbing up a ladder nearby. Turning his head to get a better look, Jun was met with a sight so gruesome it made his blood run cold.

As Jun had entered the town from the west, his vision was blocked by homes, but now he stumbled upon an appalling sight that would haunt him for a long time. Two lifeless bodies hung from the wooden gallows with bloody rags covering their faces. The villagers were using axes and ladders to retrieve the corpses.

Jun's face turned pale, and his stomach lurched at the ghastly sight. Mertia's Village couldn't escape the Alestrian Knights' brutality, and it seemed like the town had suffered the same fate.

But Jun had a job to do. He brushed off the gruesome scene and took a stroll through the side streets, passing by an alchemist shop, a blacksmith shop, and a stone mason. However, none of these establishments caught his attention. He was searching for a particular building - the River's Bend Tavern.

As soon as he spotted the sign, his face lit up with a smile. He entered the tavern, grabbed a linen cap from the hat rack, and began to play his lute. The crowd was light, as most of the villagers were busy shaking their fists in anger. Jun was patient. Within ten minutes a few villagers entered the establishment seeking to lighten their mood.

As time passed, Jun's music mesmerized more and more as the crowd began to flow in. Entranced by his music, the tavern filled with people as he earned a considerable sum in his borrowed linen hat. To top it off, one of the women in the bar couldn't take her eyes off him, and her seductive gaze only fueled his performance.

After several hours of playing, the bar exploded with cheers and applause, and Jun basked in the adulation of his mini-celebrity status. He counted his earnings, which amounted to more than thirty coins, and decided to buy himself a meal and a drink.

But before he could place his order, a barmaid handed him a pint of mead and said, "Your coin is no good here. You drink for free." She flashed him a quick wink and went back to her work. Jun was flattered by the gesture. He was humbled by their gratitude and kindness.

Jun's heart swelled as he took a sip of the sweet alcoholic nectar before him. He savored the drink, enjoying the subtle notes of honey that lingered on his tongue.

As he sat there, lost in his thoughts, a stranger approached him. The man introduced himself, "Hey pal, I am a fellow bard like yourself. You play very well for your age."

Jun nodded in thanks, trying to maintain his humble demeanor. However, his peace was soon shattered as the bard's grip tightened on his shoulder, in almost a violent manner.

Jun's body tensed, ready to pull away, but he managed to stay composed. The bard leaned in close and spoke. "You know I have heard countless songs from all over, but I have never heard a single song of yours. Explain to me how that is even possible?"

Before Jun could respond, a second hand landed on the bard's shoulder, and a familiar voice interrupted their conversation, "Hands off, peasant! Haven't you heard of the Legendary Jun of Highschool? You dare lay your filthy hands on him?"

The crowd quieted as they expected a brawl to break out. The bard turned to see a Cambrian Warrior gripping his shoulder with murder in her eyes. Realizing he was facing a beat down. The bard removed his hand from Jun's shoulder. He stumbled around his words as he replied, "I meant no offense."

The bard walked away with his pride, as Valene glared at him with a level of animosity that could cause a small fire. Jun shot a smile at her, grateful for her intervention. Valene had always been his biggest supporter, and her presence filled him with warmth.

Jun turned to Valene, armed outstretched for a hug, but she put one hand on his forehead stopping him in his tracks. "What are you doing?" she asked, holding his back with one hand.

Regaining his footing, Jun wiped the clay off his face and said, "Sorry I forgot, you hate being touched." He handed her a drink, saying "Let's go have a seat."

Perched in the back of the dingy tavern, Jun glanced out the window, savoring the last glimmers of the sun's descent into the horizon. He had lost track of time as he had been playing his lute for what seemed like hours. But now, he turned to Valene, and regaled her with a tale of two valiant Alestrian Knights and a mystical Snawfus Elk that saved his life.

Eager to hear the latest news, Jun prodded Valene with a question. "What happened after I left? Is Bryxton alright?"

But her reply was devoid of any emotion, and her words struck him like a hammer blow. "He died," she said, showing no emotion.

Jun's face fell, a cloud of sorrow descending upon him. "Oh, I'm sorry," he stammered, as shame washed over him. But Valene was quick to remind him of the harsh reality of their existence. "What did you expect?" she retorted. "We were in the middle of the forest. Humans die when they cut their vital organs. That's why you need my protection, remember?"

Feeling a sense of unease, Jun shifted the conversation to the recent events in the village. "The Alestrian Knights were here this morning," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They killed two people. I saw the aftermath when I got here."

Valene remained unmoved, her lack of empathy unsettling to Jun. "Sounds terrible," she said, as if commenting on the weather. "How much coin have you made so far? Let me see what you got."

With an inward sigh, Jun produced his earnings and spread them out on the table. Valene's deft fingers counted them up in a flash. "Not bad," she remarked, a glint of greed in her eye. "You got more in you? The night is young, and there's always more coin to be made."

With a nod, Jun finished his drink and gathered his lute. As he played, the tavern-goers cheered and clapped, their appreciation fueling his energy. But as the hours passed and the crowd dwindled, Jun grew tired. He checked on Valene, only to find her passed out amidst a pile of empty mugs.

Putting down his lute, Jun stretched his weary limbs and made his way to the bar. The barkeep offered him another drink, but Jun declined, his body and mind at their limit. "No thanks," he said with hesitation. "I'm maxed out for tonight."

The Barkeep pulled the glass away and shot back, "Dat music of yurs brought in more peeps than I've seen on the normal. And besides, everyone's boiling over. Full of anger t'day. Bit of music seemed fittin to me."

Jun struggled to comprehend the Barkeep's thick accent and responded, "Yes, people were rightfully upset. Why were the Knights going door-to-door?"

The Barkeep paused for a moment, then whispered, "The King orders his butchers in our peaceful neck of da woods. Tearin apart people's homes, destroying their livelihoods... Caiden and his wife had enough. Sick n tired of it all... and they paid for it." With a solemn nod, the Barkeep poured himself a stiff drink, raised it up to the heavens, and downed it in one gulp.

With no more words to share, the Barkeep went back to scrubbing his mugs. He kept a raging storm of anger simmering behind his cool demeanor. Jun could see it in his eyes, the Barkeep was just as furious as the rest of the townsfolk. He just kept it bottled up inside.

The two of them sat in silence until a loud crash shattered the peace. Valene had tumbled out of her chair and lay sprawled on the ground, surrounded by empty mugs.

Rummaging in his pocket, Jun fished out a coin, placed it on the counter, and asked, "Do you have a bed for the night?"

Shaking his head, the Barkeep muttered, "Nah, don't worry about it. You stay for free."

Jun gave him a grateful smile and said, "It's for her."

Jun rose from his barstool with determination, marching over to Valene and seizing her by the shoulders. He put all his strength into trying to flip her over, but all he managed was to roll her from her side onto her back. Huffing and puffing, he backed away and took a deep breath.

The Barkeep chuckled at Jun's attempt and warned him, "Ye' best be careful, lad. That Cambrian ain't no featherweight. She's a solid three hundred pounds, or more."

Jun stretched his sore muscles and conceded, "You're right, she can stay here for the night." With that, he gathered his hat filled with coins and headed towards the communal sleeping quarters.

Candlelight filled the room muted only by the sound of snoring travelers. Jun found an empty bunk and kicked off his shoes before collapsing onto the mattress. He was exhausted after a long day of performing.

His rest was short-lived as he was abruptly awakened by Valene's rough slaps. "Get up, lazy! We've got business to attend to."

Groaning in protest, Jun shielded his face from Valene's blows. "Alright, alright, I'm up," he grumbled. But as he opened his eyes, he was blinded by the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains.

Valene wasted no time in scolding him. "It's noon already, and we have a long journey ahead of us. Rest is for the weak, remember?"

As Valene dragged him out of bed, she caught a whiff of his musty clothing. Valene wrinkled her nose in disgust, tugging him towards the door. "By the Gods, how long have you been wearing those rags?" Jun was too dazed to respond, stumbling along behind her barefoot as they left the sleeping quarters behind. He didn't have a chance to bid farewell to the bar staff before they were off on their next adventure.

In the bustling town square, Valene set Jun free from her grip and seized him with a stern gaze. "Listen up, mate. Now that you've got the coin, it's high time you stopped looking like a scruffy cur. Head over to that tailor shop and get yourself spruced up. While you're at it, stop by the bathhouse too."

Before Jun could protest, Valene pushed him forward. "Trust me, the better you look, the more they'll pay for your tunes," she said, pointing her finger towards the tailoring shop.

Jun, glancing down at his bare feet, made a feeble request, "I left my shoes in the tavern?!"

Valene shot back without skipping a beat, "Buy new ones!"

An hour passed as Jun returned dressed to kill. With a brand-new ensemble, Jun spotted Valene waiting for him with his lute, strumming away. She sized him up with a critical eye, inspecting his fresh clothes as if she were the fashion police. Jun had swapped his tattered clothes for a pristine white cotton shirt, ankle-banded trousers, a leather belt, and a pair of Saxon boots.

After a few seconds, Valene gave a nod of approval and declared, "Not exactly combat-ready, but it'll do the trick for a bard like you. So how do you like it?"

Jun adjusted his trousers and replied, "I feel like I'm ready to join a Renaissance fair."

Valene cocked her head in confusion and asked, "What's a Renaissance?"

Jun strapped his lute to his back and quipped, "Ah, it's a time long ago when folks used to wear clothes like this and went about hacking each other with swords."

"Sounds like fun!" Valene exclaimed as she handed Jun his sword and sheath. "Our next destination is Fort Gaights, where we'll find a bunch of military bigwigs with deep pockets just begging to be emptied by a skilled entertainer. Let's get going."

As they made their way out of town, Jun couldn't help but notice the looming gallows and asked, "What kind of heartless leader would order his own knights to slaughter innocent people?"

Valene shot him a cautionary glance before responding, "Careful with your words, my friend. Despite the common practice of bad-mouthing the King, it's still illegal to do so."

Once they were out of earshot, Valene let out a bitter chuckle and continued, "Everyone knows that the King is nothing but a doddering old fool with not a shred of rationality left in his empty noggin. When he bites the dust, all he'll leave behind is an empty throne and a legacy of tyranny."

Jun was entirely shocked by Valene's words, but before he could process them fully, he asked, "What's this I hear about the King chasing his own delusion?"

Valene rolled her eyes and snorted, "Delusions? I am not sure. He is probably seeing the ghosts of all the poor souls who've died under his oppressive rule. I wouldn't be surprised if he's got a whole graveyard of skeletons in his closet!"

Jun couldn't help but laugh at Valene's witty retort and remarked, "I can see you're not his biggest fan, are you?"

Valene stood tall, her spear glinting in the sunlight as she brandished it in the air with a fierce determination. "Leadership," she proclaimed, her voice ringing with authority, "is about lifting your people up, not tearing them down! I hate that!"

Puzzled by her words, Jun quipped, "Sounds like you know from experience?"

Valene returned her spear to its holster with a fluid motion, her eyes flashing with a steely glint. "My clan leader back in Cambria. He was a filthy man, not worth his grit. He used to tell me I was young, stupid, and full of anger. He said I'd make a terrible warrior. He'd say it every day in training, until the day I put my spear through his lying mouth."

Jun's eyes widened in shock. "So, you killed him?"

Valene let out a throaty laugh, shaking her head in amusement. "Nah, Cambrian warriors don't go down that easily. Most wounds inflicted on human flesh are fatal, but not on us." She reached out and pinched Jun's forearm, causing him to wince in pain. "Even the deadliest blows on clay skin can be healed. It just takes a long time."

Jun still looked confused. "So how long does it take to heal a cut?"

Valene shrugged. "Depends on the cut. Minor ones can take two weeks. Nasty cuts can take a month or longer. But deep cuts? Those can take six months to a year."

Jun nodded slowly, trying to wrap his head around the concept of Cambrian anatomy. "So, did your instructor change his ways after you attacked him?"

Valene shook her head, her expression darkening. "I wouldn't know. I was banished for attacking a clan leader. I can never go back. But I'm sure he's still the same monster he always was."

As they walked, a hush fell over them, like a heavy blanket smothering their conversation. But then, like a bolt of lightning, Jun shattered the silence with a thought-provoking question, "So we are the same. You and I. Wanderers?"

Valene was caught off guard, her body flinching hearing his words. With a snort of disbelief, she retorted, "Not even close! I'm a mercenary with a kill count to rival any seasoned fighter. You, my friend, are a peculiar one. I haven't said anything because we're pals and all, but who travels without a water canteen or a money pouch? Where's your traveler's pack or your hat to protect you from the scorching sun?"

Jun was at a loss for words, his mind scrambling to come up with a believable excuse. "I lost my hat in a wolf attack the other day," he lied through his teeth.

Valene wasn't buying it, her skepticism palpable as she continued to critique him. "You're missing the basics of survival, my dear friend. Who taught you how to survive in the wild? It's like they only taught you how to play a tune on your instrument."

But Jun refused to let her mockery get the best of him. He stood his ground, determined to prove his worth. "That's not true. I learned everything I was taught. English, math, science, and even algebra like everyone else."

Valene was clearly taken aback, her face a mask of confusion. "What's an algebra?" she asked, to which Jun had no answer. Not one to dwell on the past, Valene moved on. "Regardless of what you learned, at least you can play music. Now, let me fill you in on the plan."

For two days straight, Jun and Valene roamed the winding roads that linked one town to the next, a duo of travelers playing their music in every tavern they could find. What started as a measly sum of thirty coins quickly snowballed into eighty, then two hundred. Jun couldn't help but admit that Valene was right - their music was worth big bucks in this world without modern distractions like TV, internet, or sports.

Despite Jun's skepticism, Valene's plan worked like a charm. As the sun began to set, most folks retreated to their homes or gathered in the local tavern for some drinks and gossip. That was when Jun and Valene would pounce, playing music so bewitching that patrons couldn't help but sit back, listen, and toss coins into their collection. They were like pied pipers, leading the townsfolk on a merry dance with their melodies.

Back home, Jun could never book a gig at the local club with his below average musical talents. But out here, in this uncharted world, his skills were considered exceptional. Sometimes Jun caught whispers from the drunken crowds, curious about who he was and where he came from. That was when Valene stepped in as his promoter, spinning tales of the Legendary Jun of Highschool and shooing away any nosy or unwanted attention.

They played late into the night, lulling drunks to sleep with the sweet sounds of music. In the mornings, they slept in until noon before packing up and setting off to the next town over. Jun tried his best to keep track of where they had been, but everything was so new and unfamiliar that it all blurred together.

Today, as they walked under cloudy skies, Jun felt the need to break the silence. "Bad weather rolling in?" he asked Valene, hoping to spark a conversation.

Valene smirked at Jun's reluctance to buy a hat as she said, "Yes, and I hope you like getting wet."

Undeterred, Jun asked, "Valene, what are you going to do with all your money? I mean, what are you hoping to accomplish in life?"

This time Valene didn't hold back as she replied, "You sound like my mother just now. Plan for the future! Stop playing with the boys! Learn how to sew! Bla!"

Jun realized his mistake and tried to rephrase his question. Without asking, she answered, "The truth is, I would start my own band of mercenaries. My own clan. We would only allow in the best of the best. We would take on jobs during the day and drink all night."

With a nod, Jun said, "That sounds pretty good, but wouldn't it be fun to go back to Cambria and show everyone how you weren't a failure?" Thinking of home Jun smiled, "I would go home if I could. I miss my family and friends. I miss society, my car, ice coffee, and my own bed. I would like to eat something, anything without killing it first. That's all I want."

Valene's head was spinning with confusion as she tried to wrap her mind around what Jun was saying. She retorted, "I am not going to pretend like I know what half of that stuff is, but how does your people eat something without killing it first? Are they cannibals?"

As they continued down the path, Valene's attention was drawn to a wall made of dark wood up ahead. As if driven by instinct, she grabbed Jun by the back of his shirt and brought him to a halt. Something was not right.

Without hesitation, Valene armed herself with her spear and shield. Her calm and collected demeanor shifted to one of fierce determination.

After determining the threat, she said, "What is this all about? The Tree People are setting up barricades now? None of this was here the last time I traveled this road."

As Jun looked on, Valene approached the wall with caution. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Who were these Tree People, and why did they need to barricade themselves off from the rest of the world?

Suddenly, a deep voice boomed out from the other side of the wall, "That's close enough! What is your name and purpose?"

Valene's heart raced as she prepared to face whatever lay ahead. She announced herself as Valene of Cambria, making it clear that she meant no harm to anyone. Jun couldn't help but admire Valene's bravery in the face of the unknown.

With a screeching creak, the colossal wooden gate groaned open, revealing a frigid manor beyond. A voice, unseen yet commanding in tone, reverberated through the air. "Sheathe your weapons and cause no trouble within our presence," it boomed.

Jun and Valene exchanged a meaningful look, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation. Valene slung her spear and shield over her back, motioning for Jun to follow her lead.

As they approached the gate, Jun couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of recent construction - upturned dirt, the smell of cut wood, and a frenzy of activity within the walls. But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next. Towering before him were two humanoid figures, twice Jun's size, with lanky limbs, bony joints, and an otherworldly appearance that was almost alien. The only difference was their skin - rough as bark and covered in a wild tangle of hair that flowed down their backs like a waterfall of wood shavings.

Jun's eyes scanned their armor - a mix of thick timber breastplates and leather straps, wooden shields, and long, rapier-like swords.

As they entered the camp, Valene was on a mission to find someone, while Jun couldn't help but take in the sights and sounds of the bustling community. He saw a dozen makeshift tents, constructed from leaves and sticks, and wagons overflowing with fencing materials and tools. But before he could take in any more of his surroundings, Valene's booming voice shattered the silence. "Neras! How have you been?"

As Valene and Jun approached, a Tree Person paused from his work and turned towards them, a mischievous grin spreading across his features. With a deep, drawn-out voice, he greeted her, "Well, well, well, look who's back - the little clay girl herself! And who's this you've brought with you?"

Neras couldn't help but chuckle as he poked Jun in the stomach. Valene's question was direct and to the point. "What's going on here, Neras? Have you all grown tired of living in the forest?"

Neras sighed and ran a hand through his luscious locks, his expression heavy with regret. "Oh, how I wish we were still in the forest, in the loving embrace of the Mother Oak. But alas, we've been given orders to secure the roads west and south of the Romazian forest."

Valene's curiosity was piqued. "Who gave you these orders?"

With a flick of his finger, Neras gestured towards a cluster of cloth tents in the corner of the encampment. "Those Alestrian Knights over yonder. They're the ones calling the shots, making us chop down trees and build these blasted walls."

Valene's eyes blazed with fury as she whipped around to face Neras, her voice dripping to a whisper with disgust, "What?! The Tree People groveling at the feet of the King's butchers now?! I can hardly stomach it."

A high-pitched voice pierced the tense silence. Jun turned to see a man sauntering towards them with an air of superiority, hands tucked behind his back in a nonchalant manner. His crisp uniform contrasted sharply with the ragged attire of the Tree People. His voice was icy and calculated as he sneered, "Butchers? Indeed. The term 'Butcher' reeks of the stench of your kind."

Valene and Jun stood frozen, stunned by the audacity of this self-righteous intruder. Neras towered over the group, his eyes narrowing as he demanded, "Constable, what do you want?"

The Constable's gaze swept over the trio with a condescending smirk before settling on Neras. "Tell me, soldier," he drawled, "what compels your comrades to welcome these marauders into our sanctuary?"

Jun stepped forward, attempting to diffuse the situation with his most regal tone. "Forgive us, good sir. We did not mean to tread on your sacred ground. We will leave at once." With that, he took Valene's arm and began walking towards the eastern gate.

But their escape was cut short when the Constable barked, "Detain them!"

Neras hesitated for a moment, but the Constable's imperious tone brooked no argument. "Perhaps the leaves in your ears have deafened you," he snarled. "I said, detain them!"

In an instant, Neras and his cohorts sprang into action, surrounding Jun and Valene with deadly weapons drawn. Valene's hand hovered over her spear, but she knew they were outnumbered and outmatched. It was a losing battle.

Jun leaned in towards her and whispered, "Fear not, for the pen is mightier than the sword. Let's talk our way out of this mess."

Three more burly Tree People emerged from the shadows, encircling them with sharp blades glinting in the sunlight. Jun threw his hands up in surrender as the Constable sauntered over, eyeing him with suspicion. Neras and the others backed away, leaving Jun to face the music alone.

"What is thy name, criminal?" the Constable demanded, his voice low and menacing.

Jun flashed a grin, hoping to smooth things over. "Criminal? Oh no, my good sir, you must be mistaken. I'm just a humble traveler passing through these parts. The name's Jun."

But the Constable was not impressed. "I can discern the identity of a criminal upon laying my gaze upon them." he growled, snatching Jun's sword from its sheath. "This exquisite blade hath been wielded by a valiant Knight of our King. Do tell, how didst thou come to possess such a distinguished weapon?"

Jun's heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation. He couldn't deny it any longer - he was in deep trouble. "Well, you see, it's a funny story," he began, trying to think of a way out of this desperate situation. "I stumbled upon an ancient battlefield and... everyone was already dead, so..."

The Constable was having none of it. "Shouldst thou have acquired said item by the unlawful act of theft, you shall be subject to a penal sentence of five month's incarceration. Conversely, should you have procured the sword through the act of grave robbing, of a royal servant no less, your penal sentence is extended to one year imprisonment. Might you be inclined to alter your plea? "

Jun swallowed hard and said nothing at all. He was stumped. Valene elbowed him in the side and whispered, "Still think you can talk your way out of this one?"

A few moments later, Jun found himself in a living nightmare as the Alestrian Knights pounced on him like a pack of hungry wolves. They stripped him of everything he owned, leaving him with nothing but the clothes on his back. The sound of metal clanging echoed through the air as they hammered pins into his shackles with a ball peen hammer.

As he was loaded into the two-wheeled prison cart, Jun's heart sank like a stone. He was headed for a long stay in a medieval dungeon, but he refused to give up hope. What little hope he had.

Nearby Valene was putting up a valiant fight, trying everything in her power to save her friend. She pleaded with the Constable, using every trick in the book to try and convince him of Jun's innocence. "He's mentally ill!" she cried. "He couldn't steal a sword if his life depended on it! He was raised by wolves, for goodness's sake!"

Despite her best efforts, the Constable remained unmoved, and Valene was forced to admit defeat. She walked over to the wagon and delivered the bad news to Jun with a heavy heart. "No luck," she sighed. "In hindsight, I guess we should have gone around."

Jun couldn't help but chuckle at Valene's nonchalant attitude. It was almost as if she didn't realize the gravity of the situation, they were in. But as the cart lurched forward and began its bumpy journey, Jun's thoughts turned dark once more. "I don't even know where they're taking me," he muttered. "Maybe I'll just starve to death on the way there."

Valene rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she replied, "That's the spirit! Keep it up, and your sentence will be over in no time." The cart rocked back and forth as one of the Alestrian Knights hooked up the horse to the front. Jun couldn't help but wonder what horrors awaited him at the end of this journey.

Valene let out a mischievous grin as she shouted at the Alestrian Knight, "Hey, where exactly are you taking him? I am not trying to start trouble or anything. I was just wondering, when his sentence is over, where should I go to pick him up?"

The Knight was hesitant for a second, then he answered her, "North by Northwest. Castle Pachan outside of the Village of Knolt."

"Thank you, good sir!" Valene said with a smile to the Knight. She turned back to Jun and whispered, "You got it made! Pachan is the easiest place to break out of!"

Jun's hopes fluttered as he grabbed the bars of his cage. He replied, "Really?!"

Shooting him down, Valene answered, "No, that place is terrible."

As Valene finished her joke, she looked over at Jun, expecting at least a chuckle or a grin. But to her disappointment, his face remained stone-cold. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment before finally breaking the silence. "All joking aside, it's been great talking to you," she said, her voice softening with sincerity. "I'm really going to miss these little chats we've been having."

Just then, the Alestrian Knight beckoned over a couple of Tree People, including Neras, and barked out some orders to them. Jun's heart sank as he realized his time was almost up. With a heavy heart, he reached out to say his final goodbye to Valene.

She held up her left hand through the bars, and Jun went to grasp it with his right, but something caught him off guard. As their hands met, he felt a sharp object in hers. His smile faded as he looked at her with a mix of confusion and fear.

With a sudden jolt, Jun was thrown off balance as the Alestrian Knight slapped the horse's behind with a resounding "Heya!"

Jun scrambled to regain his footing, pulling himself back into the wagon with a grunt. He cast a quick glance at his hand, where he had clutched a small metal file covered in clay - a precious lifeline she had hidden within her hand for emergencies. It was a symbol of hope, a reminder that he was not completely powerless.

As the day wore on and the sun began its descent, Jun sat in the back of the prison wagon, attempting to file at his shackles with the small tool. But the noise was too loud, and he didn't want to alert his captors. Instead, he slipped the file into his pocket and surveyed his surroundings. The two Tree People walked alongside the horse, bickering about the paltry rations they had been given. But Jun remained hopeful - for the first time in his life, he had all the time in the world.

With a sudden burst of courage, Jun steadied himself and climbed to his feet, his shackles dangled as he held onto the bars for support. Though his attempts at escape had failed so far, he still had his words. Clearing his throat, he addressed Neras, "Excuse me, can I ask a question?"

Both of his captures were as still as walking statues, their stony silence an unnerving presence in the cramped confines of Jun's cage. Not one to be deterred, Jun decided to try and provoke a reaction out of them. With a sly smile, he leaned forward and addressed the pair. "You know, I've heard a lot about you two. I thought everyone in the Romazian Forest was friendly. Maybe we can be friends? I mean, sure, you take orders from the King, but you still like us humans, right?"

Neras's face twisted into a sneer as he shot Jun a withering glare. Jun could almost sense the heat of his anger searing through the metal bars. But he wasn't done yet. "When things turn around in this country, the Tree People will get the respect they deserve. If you are lucky, they won't be remembered as the slaves of the Kingdom."

With a flash of steel, Neras drew his sword and plunged it through the bars of Jun's cage. The blade narrowly missed his arm, sending shivers down his spine. The rapier tore through the front of the cage, passed through the back, and clanged against the bars on the other side. Jun was speechless, his eyes wide with shock.

Neras's voice was low and menacing as he growled, "Killing you would save us a long trip. So, mind your tongue, Prisoner. Don't use our name and those filthy scum in the same breath. Understand?"

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Jun realized he had gone too far. But he couldn't help but be curious. "Why would you work for the Knights if you hate the King?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Neras stepped closer to the cage, looming over Jun with an intense expression. "This is the lesser of two evils," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "We sacrifice ourselves for our people. For our future. If we resist, the King will burn our forest down. What choice do we really have?"

Jun sensed that there was more to Neras's story than he was letting on. "All we have is time," he said. "Wanna talk about it?"

Neras let out a deep, rumbling laugh and returned to his position next to the horse. Jun had missed his chance, but he still had hope. After all, all he had was time.

As the caravan rolled on for an hour, the scorching sun beat down on them with unrelenting intensity. Sweat dripped from their brows and their horses' coats were lathered with perspiration. The group stopped in the cool shade of a massive maple tree to take a breather.

Neras rummaged through his leather pouch, retrieving a cloth-wrapped bundle that he unrolled to reveal a verdant pastry of unknown origin. The second guard's face twisted in frustration as he eyed the measly loaf. "Is this all they could scrounge up for two grown men?" he spat on the ground. His annoyance was visible for all to see.

Neras gestured toward the surrounding forest and said with a hint of anger, "I suppose we'll have to hunt for our own food. I'll keep an eye on the prisoner, you go run down something decent to eat."

Without waiting for a response, he took off into the woods like a bolt of lightning, his long hair streaming behind him in the wind.

As Neras gathered firewood, Jun took the opportunity to strike up a conversation. "You and I both know Valene, huh? That's cool. How did you meet her?"

Neras replied with a scowl, "You talk too much. No wonder you get along with Valene, she's just as chatty." Jun fell silent, realizing that hunger made even the friendliest conversation a challenge.

Neras reached into his knapsack and produced an odd-looking red rock. Stepping away from the woodpile, he tossed the rock in and backed away. The rock exploded into a brilliant blaze, quickly engulfing the wood in flames. Jun gaped in amazement. "What in the world was that? Did you just use magic?"

With an angry tone, Neras shot back, "Magic?! Ha! We don't bother with the nonsense of sorcery. We live in harmony with the land, not like your kind."

As his partner sauntered out of the woods with a rabbit in hand, Jun had to act fast. Time was running out to get the information he needed about the elusive red rock. So, he cut straight to the chase, saying "Relax, I am not from this place. I know nothing. I will be quiet if you tell me about the red rock."

Neras, complacent by Jun's direct approach, dug into his bag and produced a mundane red rock. He explained, "This is sap from the Pyrus tree, which is harmless to hold, but cracking the dry outer shell can release the spirit of fire." Jun listened with intensity, trying to soak up every detail.

But before he could say another word, his partner interrupted, shouting about the arrival of their dinner. As they cooked and ate their meal, Jun sat quietly in his cage, observing his captors with cautious curiosity.

Neras commented about it being a nice day to sit within the shadow of nature. With a smooth grin, Jun offered to entertain his captors, "I could play some music for you guys. If I had my lute." Seeing hesitation in their eyes, Jun added, "Come on, it's harmless."

With the slightest apprehension, Neras rummaged through the bag, only to fumble the lute and send it crashing to the ground snapping a string. The twang of the strings was its dying breath and an echo of pain to Jun.

Neras's partner cackled with malicious glee as Jun's heartache. But Neras wasn't about to let Jun suffer alone. He retrieved the instrument from the ground and strode towards the cage, handing over the lute in one swift motion.

With a critical eye, Jun inspected the instrument for any signs of damage. While one string was gone, the lute was still intact. Jun's shackles were a hindrance, but he didn't waste a moment. He seized the lute and began to strum out a beautiful melody. Neras couldn't help but grin as the music filled the air, and even his partner appeared to be enjoying himself. For a while, the three of them simply sat there, enraptured by the sweet sound of Jun's music.

Jun knew that Tree People weren't above being cruel to prisoners. They would have no qualms about mocking him if they didn't like his performance. But by the third song, both of them had risen to his feet, swaying to the rhythm.

When they eventually packed up and resumed their journey, Neras elected to let Jun keep his lute. Jun serenaded them on the way to their destination.

As the day wore on and the sun began to set, Jun continued to strum his lute, keeping his mind off the impending doom that awaited him. In the distance, a towering castle loomed, casting a dark shadow over the landscape. Jun knew that dungeons were places of unspeakable horror, but he refused to let himself dwell on such grim thoughts.

When they arrived at the castle's moat, a voice boomed down at them, demanding to know their identity. Neras identified himself as Romazian Infantry Battalion, transporting a prisoner from the twenty-seventh checkpoint. Despite the interruption, Jun kept playing his lute, only pausing to slip Valene's metal file between his right-hand fingers. Jun feared that once he stopped playing, the guards would likely take his beloved instrument away, perhaps forever.

As the drawbridge creaked open with a metallic screech, Jun couldn't help but shutter a tinge of dread. The heavy chains of the bridge clung in the wind, creating an eerie symphony as the caravan made its way across the moat.

But as Jun's eyes landed on the castle, his fear momentarily turned to awe. This was nothing like the old, rundown castles he had seen in history class or on the internet. This was a fortress, with walls stretching higher than the trees and archery positions ready for any potential attack. The floors were immaculate, and the few visible guards were hidden within their watch towers.

As the caravan came to a halt, two men with torches waited to receive them. Most of the men were dressed in standard clothing, but one man stood out in a military-styled uniform that strained to contain his protruding belly.

Neras handed over the keys and a paper scroll to the overweight man. "His name is Jun," Neras said. "And he is to serve five months in isolation per the Constable's orders."

The overweight man took the torch from his companion and opened the scroll, his eyes scanning the words carefully. Jun took the opportunity to try and win over the prison guard with his musical prowess. He strummed on his guitar, belting out the only appropriate song he could think of - Jailhouse Rock.

The onlookers watched in fascination as Jun played, and it seemed to be working. He only needed a bit more time to win the guard over to his side.

The overweight man lumbered back with a jangle of keys in his sweaty palm. With practiced ease, he spun the tumblers on the lock while delivering a message to Neras, "Make sure your higher-ups know that you've handed off your responsibility to Warden Izaks."

As the door to the cage creaked open, the Warden snatched the lute out of Jun's grasp before the final chord had a chance to ring out. He bellowed with a voice as gruff as gravel, "Music is a tool for bards and harlots. Here in Castle Pachan, you'll do your time in silence or face the consequences. Do you understand?"

Jun sat there, shell-shocked and speechless. Before he could utter a word, the Warden barked orders at his subordinates, "Take the prisoner away."

The vial guards hoisted Jun up by his legs and dragged him out of the cage. The Warden signaled to another guard, who patted Jun down and checked his restraints before tossing his shoes aside.

As the prison wagon turned around to leave, the Warden and his henchmen led Jun down into the bowels of the castle. The scent that hit Jun's nostrils was putrid - a mix of spoiled food and decaying flesh. It was the stench of death. The unlit passageways concealed horrors that Jun didn't even want to imagine.

Jun's lute was never far out of sight as the Warden still clutched it in his hand. If he was lucky, maybe he'd be allowed to keep it in his cell.

As they marched along, the Warden outlined the prison's rules, "Every prisoner under my watch gets one meal per day. If you don't have your bowl at the feeding slot, come morning, you will go hungry. And if you cause any trouble for myself or my guards, you'll be chained to the walls."

Jun took stock of his surroundings, studying the walls and memorizing the winding passageways. Soon enough, they reached a solid iron door with a tiny slot at the bottom for food. This was to be his cell. With a groan of metal, the door screeched open.

Jun entered the cramped, foul-smelling cell and was greeted by the pitiful sight of a gaunt man chained to the wall with a rusty bolt. The stench of excrement permeated the air, making his stomach churn with disgust.

The Warden strode in, eyeing the prisoner with disdain. "Still clinging to life, Gerrant?" he sneered, not bothering to wait for a response before turning to Jun. "Welcome to your new home, boy."

Jun mustered up the courage to make a request, hoping to salvage some modicum of sanity during his imprisonment. "Excuse me, sir. I know you don't owe me any favors, but could I please have my lute? It would help the time pass."

To his surprise, the Warden held out his arm to hand him the instrument. However, before Jun could take it from him, the Warden slammed it into the wall shattering it into pieces. The twisted smile on the Warden's face made it clear that he took pleasure in crushing Jun's hopes. "Sorry, lad. There are no happy endings in this place," he chuckled as he and the guards exited the cell, leaving Jun to his fate.

In the deafening silence that followed, Jun collected the remnants of his beloved lute, his only source of solace in this wretched place. Surveying his surroundings, he found a window barely large enough to fit his hand, offering a glimpse of the outside world. Through it, he saw the last rays of the sun disappearing over the horizon, a stark reminder of the freedom he had lost.

Turning his attention to his cellmate, Jun took in the sight of a broken man with one eye gouged out. His outfit was nothing but rags of filth. Attempted to make conversation, hoping to find some comfort in their shared misery. "Looks like it's just you, me, and my broken lute. Can you speak?" he asked, hoping for a sliver of human connection in this inhumane place.

With a gentle nod, Gerrant whispered his affirmation, "Yes," as if his vocal cords were made of delicate glass. The gloomy dungeon was a dismal place, a pit of despair where even the air felt heavy with the weight of suffering.

Jun, curious and perhaps seeking a morsel of companionship in this wretchedness, probed Gerrant with a question, "How long have you been here?"

Gerrant, his energy reserves depleted, kept his response succinct, "I'm not even sure anymore." The question that followed was expected, but still stung like salt on an open wound. "What did you do to get chained to the wall?"

Gerrant's response came without hesitation, "I, umm, called the Warden a fat sack." A flicker of amusement danced across Jun's face at the words, even in these grave circumstances.

Gerrant's chuckle was brief, but the cough that followed hinted at the harshness of their imprisonment. Jun tried to lighten the mood, "That's a good one. I guess he didn't approve." Gerrant's nod was a silent admission.

Curiosity got the best of Jun, and he wanted to know why Gerrant was here. "What are you in for?" Gerrant's reply was a dagger to the heart, "I am a political prisoner. Someone they couldn't control. So, now I am a prisoner with no voice. That is my fate."

Jun, who had been forthcoming about his own plight, was left speechless by Gerrant's response. It was a reminder that in this dark, damp dungeon, they were at the mercy of a tyrant who brooked no dissent. Gerrant's fate was a sobering reminder of the stakes of challenging authority, and the consequences of not bowing to the King's will.

As the last rays of light slipped through the window, Jun and Gerrant engaged in some idle chatter, trying to distract themselves from the bleakness of their surroundings. Jun made his way to a corner, propping himself against the wall. He flipped Valene's file around in his hand for a bit, but the cramped and uncomfortable cell made it difficult to drift off to sleep.

After a while, exhaustion finally overtook Jun, and he found himself transported to his home in his dreams. He was in the midst of washing his car with a buddy when an earthquake struck and the ground gave way beneath him, plunging him into darkness. With a jolt, he awoke in a cold sweat, only to realize that he was still trapped in his prison cell with Gerrant chained up nearby.

The light of day trickled in through the window, casting a wan glow on their bleak surroundings. Jun searched for his file, which had slipped from his grasp in his slumber. After retrieving it from the ground, he examined his cellmate for the first time in daylight. Gerrant was a scruffy, middle-aged man, his face scarred and disfigured, with a gruesome hole where his right eye should have been.

Gerrant was still asleep, so Jun kept as quiet as possible, desperate not to disturb his uneasy slumber. His curiosity piqued by an iron grate that covered a small hole in the floor, Jun yanked on the bars with all his might, but they refused to budge.

Without opening his remaining eye, Gerrant muttered, "That's the outhouse, mate. The one and only place where shit goes down around here."

Jun let out a deep sigh of disgust as he released the grime covered bars. "Yeah, I see that now," he muttered to himself, wiping his palms on his pants before slumping down on the ground.

Suddenly, there was a loud clang as the metal food slot at the bottom of the door slid open, revealing a bowl of unappetizing brown mush and a cup of water. Jun rose to his feet, picking up the pitiful meal and inspecting it with disgust. It looked like some kind of slop made from whatever scraps the guards could find. And there was no spoon or fork to be found.

Before he could even take a bite, the food slot slammed shut with a jarring force. Jun glanced over at his cellmate, Gerrant, and asked in a bewildered tone, "What...what is this?"

Gerrant let out a grim chuckle. "The guards call it grunk. It's a mixture of vegetables and junk. It's not gourmet, but it's all we're gonna get in this dump."

Jun frowned as he glanced back and forth between the bowl of grunk and Gerrant. "Only one bowl for the both of us? That's so stingy."

Gerrant's response caught Jun off guard. "Oh, they stopped feeding me days ago," he said, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice.

Despite his own hunger, Jun didn't hesitate to pass the bowl over to Gerrant. Then he pulled out a small metal file from his pocket and held it up to Gerrant. "You're not gonna rot away in here without a fight. Help me, and we can break out of here together."

Gerrant's eyes widened in disbelief as he accepted the bowl of grunk, shoveling it into his mouth with trembling hands. Jun could see the hope glimmering in his cellmate's eyes.

But just as Jun began to file away at his shackles, Gerrant corrected him. "Not there. The bolt. Cut through the bolt, and the hinge will do the rest. Then we can slip them on and off with ease."

Jun nodded, a newfound determination filling him. He had a plan, and he was going to see it through. Together, they would escape this wretched place and be free.

Gerrant was in dire need of healing and nourishment, and Jun selflessly shared his own rations with him and nursed him back to health over the course of several days.

After removing his own, Jun worked to remove Gerrant's restraints. His arms burned with exhaustion but Jun saw the potential in Gerrant. He had knowledge of the prison's layout and routines of the guards that suppressed them.

With Gerrant's knowledge and Jun's skills, they concocted a daring plan to escape their confinement. They took the meager remains of a lute and, with the help of the file, transformed it into a sharp spike. It was a grueling process that took days, but their determination never wavered.

The day of their escape arrived. Jun understood the risk was high, but he was willing to take it for his freedom. When the food slot opened, he deceived the guards by shouting, "Gerrant is dead. He's gonna stink up the whole building."

The air was thick with tension as Jun waited against the cold, unforgiving prison wall. A heavy silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the metallic click of the food slot closing shut. Jun's heart pounded with fear, unsure of what would come next.

Time passed as Jun waited with bated breath. Suddenly, the sound of a creaking cart echoed through the hallway, growing louder and louder until it reached the cell and stopped. The door lock clicked several times, and soon after the door creaked open as two imposing guards appeared.

Entering the cell club in hand, the first guard barked, "Turn around, against the wall, Prisoner! Don't move or we will have two bodies to haul out of here!" his eyes narrowed and cold.

The guard's words were callous and cruel, but compassion was a luxury no one could afford in this place. Turning around, Jun felt the chill of cold stones on his face as he pressed himself against the wall. He knew better than to test them, lest the trap was sprung too early.

The first guard kept watch on Jun as the second guard unrolled a long white cloth bag. He kneeled down and eyed Gerrant's body still hanging from his chains. "Rotten scoundrel. Serves him right." he said as he pulled the keys from his pocket.

Gerrant remained frozen against the cold, hard wall, a portrait of poised composure that Jun couldn't help but admire.

The guard approached, ready to unlock the first shackle, when suddenly it fell from Gerrant's wrist with a loud clunk. His eyes bulged with a mixture of confusion and terror, that left him dumbfounded. But in the blink of an eye, Gerrant sprang to life, slipping his hand out of the shackle and lunging towards the guard with the speed of a wild animal.

Grabbing the guard's tunic with a death grip, Gerrant refused to let go, forcing the guard to struggle in vain. The guard reached for his weapon, but Gerrant was too close, and instead he cried out for help, "Bloody hell, Get him off me!"

The guard that was watching Jun turned around to see Gerrant very much alive and fighting for his life. Seizing the opportunity, Jun threw his own shackles over the guard's head, ensnaring him around the neck.

The fight was now a two-on-two brawl, and Jun and Gerrant had the pre-emptive strike. The guard slammed Gerrant against the wall, trying to break free, but Gerrant was too quick for him. While dazed, Gerrant reached behind his back and pulled out a sharpened lute neck, the perfect weapon for an angry desperate inmate. He began stabbing the guard over and over again, until the guard lay crumpled on the ground, defeated and lifeless.

Jun's guard wasn't going to let his attacker take him down without a scrap. He flailed his arms and legs, fighting with all his might. But as the battle raged on, he began to tire as his knees buckled beneath him. Jun held his grip as he towered over the struggling guard as he fought a losing battle to gain the upper hand.

The scene turned into a bloody mess, as Gerrant climbed to his feet and plunging his shiv into the helpless guard over and over again. In a moment, the room was painted with a dark, crimson hue. Jun could do nothing to stop his comrade as the final, fatal blow was dealt and the guard's lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

As both guards lay dead on the floor dripping blood everywhere, Jun couldn't handle the gore and turned away, emptying his stomach into the corner.

Gerrant let out a hearty laugh as he fashioned an eye patch out of the tattered cloth of the fallen guard. The adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, but he knew that the worst was behind them. With a swift hand, he snatched the keys from the guard's lifeless body and bolted into the deserted hallway. Jun was hot on his heels only taking a moment to pick up his lute shiv as protection.

The air was thick with the stench of fear and despair as the echoes of inmates' whimpers reverberated off the walls. The carnage was evident, but Gerrant was not one to give up. Not when freedom was so close at hand.

With the keys clutched tightly in his fist, he began the daunting task of unlocking cell after cell, freeing the prisoners one by one. Some of the inmates were paralyzed with fear, too frightened to venture out of their confines, but most were eager to seize the chance to escape their nightmarish existence. As the prisoners emerged from their cells, Jun stopped them in their tracks with a solemn warning, "If you run out there on your own, you're as good as dead. Stay put and wait for our signal."

With a grin that stretched from ear to ear, Gerrant jangled the keys in his hand as he approached the last cell. The anticipation was thick in the air as the prisoners inside heard the lock click open. And just like that, freedom was theirs for the taking.

The hallway was a sea of filthy men as thirty to forty inmates surged forward, their eyes glinting with excitement. Jun tried his best to hold them back, but their desire for escape was too strong. The cry of "Every man for himself!" echoed through the corridor as they stampeded past him, up the stairs and into the fresh air outside.

The castle guards sounded the alarm, but it was too late. With every guard brought down by the angry mob, the prisoners removed his weapons, becoming more deadly than before. Jun looked around, but Gerrant was nowhere to be seen. There was no time to waste as he charged up the stairs, only to come face-to-face with the Warden, surrounded by a horde of angry inmates.

Years of pent-up rage and unfair treatment boiled in the prisoners' veins, and they took it out on the helpless Warden with savage ferocity. One inmate plunged a blade into the back of the Warden's leg, and the crowd descended upon him, raining blows upon his helpless form.

The metallic grinding of gears filled the air as one of the inmates managed to release the drawbridge. The scene turned from chaos to pandemonium as the inmates sprinted across, their desperation for freedom lending them supernatural speed. It was a race against time, and nothing was going to stop them.

Jun stood alone amidst the blood-soaked ruins of the once-immaculate castle, haunted by the ghastly scenes that had unfolded before his very eyes. It had all started with the corpses of two guards, but the carnage had quickly escalated until every single defender lay motionless on the ground around him.

Despite the overwhelming silence that now filled the air, Jun couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled deep in his gut. He took a deep breath and began to move forward, being careful to step over the mangled bodies that littered his path.

As he drew closer to the dying Warden, Jun felt a sudden surge of anger and sadness. He knelt down beside the man and placed the shattered blade of his beloved lute on the Warden's chest.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Jun spoke softly, his voice laced with bitter regret. "You were right, there are no happy endings in this place."

The Warden's face twisted in pain and anger, but it gave way to a blank stare as his life slipped away. Jun observed as the light faded from his eyes, his heart heavy with sorrow.

Leaving the broken lute behind, Jun walked across the deserted drawbridge, his steps heavy with the weight of past events. He was free now, but the memory of the bloodshed and the lives lost would haunt him forever.