"Damn."
The first sense that returned to Sol was his sight. He had to scoff at that; the little blots of color that his weak eyes managed to pick up was no help at all. His hearing came back just in time for him to hear his own raspy voice.
"You're awake?"
The question bounced off the walls and echoed, dead. Sol's mouth turned down at the corners as he sat up, feeling cold, metal walls brush against his face. His prediction was right. Spot fucking on. He was in a jail cell.
"Are you awake yet?" the voice repeated, and Sol heard someone tapping on the side of the wall to his right. The only light in the room came from a four-by-four inch window to the front. Clearly, he wouldn't be meeting his neighbor face-to-face any time soon.
"Yeah, I'm up. Who's asking?" he shot back shortly, banging his head against the wall in despair, moaning quietly at the pain it caused and contemplating doing it again.
The other didn't answer for a moment. Then, he replied, "You've been out cold for a while. I was just making sure you weren't dying, with all the noise you made in your sleep."
Sol felt a pang of guilt tear at his chest.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he called back without a second thought. "Who are you, anyway?"
"Same as you. A criminal."
Criminal.
"But I didn't do anything!" he objected, jumping up and hitting his head on the ceiling. He swore loudly, trapped somewhere between wanting to kill whoever made the cells so damn small and wishing the pain would last instead of ebb. "Hey! Fuckin' guards! Let me out of here!"
He could almost hear the smirk on the other boy's lips when he replied.
"I'm sure if you keep quiet for ten days, they'll let you out."
"You sound like you've spend your fair share of time locked up." Sol retorted, the sound of sarcasm, of something human, calming him down enough for him to sit back down on the floor and pull his knees up to his chest.
"I may have been here a few times." he replied, and Sol could picture him shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
"Only a few, huh?" Sol joked, relishing the silence that followed.
After a while, he heard footsteps approaching, followed by his neighbor scrambling back to the corner. He didn't make any attempt to look less suspicious. He already looked pathetic enough, with his head in his hands, sprawled out on the floor. If that looked suspicious, then he was a mouse.
The jingling of keys reached his ears, and he fought off the impulse to lift his head in curiosity. Common sense told him it was the guard outside his cell. No point in giving the damned man what he wants by reacting. Then, the sound of a lock clicking open reverberated through the lifeless room, and Sol had to life his head.
There was a girl standing in his doorway. She was blonde, with pale skin and cerulean eyes. She dressed like a pirate, with her hat and coat, and looked relatively young; thirteen or fourteen, tops.
"Hey, you!" she whispered, rapping on the wall above Sol's head. "Have you seen Yuri Lowell?"
"Who?" Sol rasped, confused.
"Yuri." the girl repeated calmly.
"I don't know what you're talking ab—"
"In here, Patty." came the sarcastic voice from earlier, although his tone of voice was serious now.
"Yuri!" the girl squealed, turning to leave. She paused, throwing Sol a glance. "You can leave now, Mister. Just don't let the guards catch you."
"H-hey! Wait a minute!" Sol protested, following the girl to the next jail cell over. "You're going to get into even more trouble. Who are you?"
"Sh-shhh!" the girl hissed, bringing her index finger to Sol's mouth. "We're gonna get caught...I'm Patty."
Sol watched Patty quietly as she unlocked the cell door, then threw the key aside somewhere, to be discovered later by the pissed off guards. He finally got a good look at his neighbor, too, who looked two or three years older than Sol and had long, dark purple hair. When he put a hand on Patty's shoulder, it was his left. He nodded briefly in Sol's direction, then turned his attention back to Patty.
"Right. We'd better leave now, then. We'll need to be gone and back before they realize we're missing."
"You're going to get caught." Sol interrupted mater-of-factly.
The man scoffed.
"No one's making you leave. Be a good boy and wait here for your master to let you outside, if you really want to."
Sol frowned, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He weighed his options for a moment, his brow furrowed with concentration, then shook his head decidedly.
"How do I get out of here?"
The other male smirked knowingly and nodded.
"I'll show you." he replied, offering his left hand to Sol. "Yuri Lowell, by the way."
Sol eyed Yuri's hand skeptically, pleasantly surprised that the other was also left-handed. Finally, he tugged off his left glove with his teeth, accidentally cutting his own fingertip in the process, and shook hands in greeting.
"Sol El Idnus." he introduced gruffly.
Yuri nodded.
"Okay, Patty. Where's Regal?"
"Holding off the guards." Patty informed him, curling her fingers around the cuffs of her coat. "I'm going back to help him...you two better get out of here while you still can."
"Take care, then, Patty." Yuri murmured.
"You too, my special treasure~." Patty giggled, pecking an unwilling Yuri on the cheek, although she had to stand on her tip-toes to accomplish the task. She then turned, giving the two only a quick glance over her shoulder before sprinting out of the hall, around the corner, and up the stairs. Sol could swear he heard fighting coming from upstairs—violet sounds, like the scrape of metal-on-metal and the screeching of battle cries. He tried to block them out; there was nothing he could do now but run.
"You have a weapon, right?" Yuri asked, grabbing his sword from the corner. Sol looked down, surprised to see that his bracers were still curling dangerously over his bawled fists. Whoever had locked him up must have overlooked the weapons, what with the way they were concealed under his sleeves.
"Yeah. Yeah, I still have them on me."
"Good." Yuri hummed. "I can't promise that we won't have to fight. Are you coming?"
"Yeah."
"That's the plan? Run for the woods?" Sol managed between breathless gasps. He could just make out a speck of light a the end on the sewage pipe. It hurt his eyes after a moment, though, and he looked away before fumbling with his bandanna, trying to tie it over his eyes.
—Skit No. 001: Blindness–
"What's with the blindfold?" Yuri asked.
"The light hurts my eyes." Sol responded.
"Hurts your eyes...?" Yuri echoed.
"Yes...my eyes are bad. I can't see very well, and the sunlight makes it worse."
"So you can only see at night?"
"I guess you could put it that way."
"It's like you aren't even human!"
"I don't see how a genetic mutation makes me any less human!" Sol snapped.
"Sorry! Yeesh, I didn't mean anything by it."
"Yeah...I know..."
—End Skit—
It didn't take long for the familiar drum of pounding footsteps to reach Sol's ears. He wondered briefly if Yuri had heard it, too, but the lack of reaction from the other told him he hadn't. It wasn't until the noise got louder that the two paused in their tracks. Sol lifted his blindfold to exchange a glance with Yuri. It was a question—one that Sol hesitated to speak, knowing that it meant he didn't get to call the shots.
"Fight, or flight?"
Yuri paused—not physically, since he was already standing still, but mentally; Sol could tell by the dilation of his pupils and the way his breathing evened out. Finally, the man drew his sword, just as the first wave of guards turned the corner.
"Fight!"
The order didn't need to be repeated. Sol was already twirling his yo-yo, murmuring the incantation to an arte. The insignia on his left palm glowed scarlet.
"Fireball!" he snarled, sending a short blast of fire at one of the guards. He heard a grunt of surprise, which, in his opinion, was better than any visual he could have asked for. He repeated the attack several times, until he felt his body weakening with fatigue. He growled to himself, literally biting back a yawn. He would have to resort to physical attacks until he regained enough energy to cast.
He pocketed his yo-yo and took a step forward, daring someone, anyone to attack him. He felt Yuri step closer, his blade locked with that of a guard, skillfully blocking blow after blow and countering each strike. Sol raised his own arm defensively as another guard swung his sword. It was a sloppy attack, at best, and Sol knocked it away with a swish of his arm, then elbowed the guard in the gut, smirking at the pained groan it elicited. Then, mostly for show, he kicked the guard into the air.
"Swallow Dance!" he called, kicking again and then punching his opponent, feeling blood run down the edge of his right bracer.
That better not stain my glove...he thought disdainfully, looking disgusted at the idea. He allowed himself to fall back a few paces, so that his back brushed against Yuri's. His teammate was breathing heavily, and Sol could feel the heaving of the man's shoulders as he tried to catch his breath. Sol quickly pulled out his yo-yo, which was already enveloped in a teal light as he began casting. A guard ran at him, trying to break his concentration, but Sol ignored him, not surprised when Yuri threw himself between the two, gaining another shallow wound on his right shoulder and one on his opposite forearm.
"First Aid!" Sol gasped, just managing to heal Yuri and dodge roll out of the way of an enemy's sword. Unable to stand back up quickly enough, he raised both hands in front of his face, curling up with his head down and his knees tucked under himself. The sword flashed again, tearing his sleeves open and sparking as it his clashed with his exposed bracers. The third time it arched towards his vulnerable form, the edge of the blade struck him in the side, drawing blood as well as scream of pain. His left hand shot down to the injury without his brain's consent, leaving his shaky right arm to shield his face. His eyes widened in horror behind his blindfold. He managed a strangled gasp, trying to move his other arm, but his body wasn't listening. All he managed was a feeble twitch of his fingers. His resolve faltered, and he dropped his right hand, bracing himself against the wall and rooting his feet to the ground, digging his toes into the wall behind him.
"I'm sorry...Luma..." he sobbed loudly.
"Not on my watch!" Yuri shouted, and Sol groaned in fear and numbing relief as the sword fell short, barely cutting the left leg. The guard shouted something fearfully with his last breath.
An eerie hush fell over the vicinity. Sol knew what that meant; it was over. The guards were dead.
Finally in control of his movements again, he brought his hands to his forehead, careful not to dig his bracers into his skin. The tears finally stung the corners of his eyes and ran down his cheeks, drenching his blindfold and flushing his cheeks. His whole body trembled, and his breath shuddered when he exhaled. He didn't cry out. He didn't scream in despair. He just sat there, sobbing quietly into his open palms.
It must have been at least half an hour before Sol managed to pull himself together, picking up the pieces of his own shattered willpower. He found himself shrugging off Yuri's hand from his shoulder—when had the man crouched down to sit with him, anyway?—and tugging off his blindfold. Yuri shifted his weight next to him, leaning back against the wall and putting his hands on the ground next to him. Sol sniffled softly, tracing patterns on his bandanna with his thumb.
Yuri was the first to break the silence.
"If you can't fight," he murmured gently, closing his eyes, "then you should turn around now and go back before you hurt yourself."
Sol staggered to his feet, enraged, and shook his head firmly.
"I can fight, Yuri!" he argued pointedly, slamming his fist on the wall behind him and growling. "And I won't go back! I'll keep on fighting, too, whether you want to help me or not. Even if it kills me—"
"It almost did—"
"—even if I die trying, I will find my friend!"
There was another silence that only lasted half as long as the first one. Akin to the first pause, Sol was too upset to even try speaking. And again, Yuri spoke first.
"So you're looking for someone, too...let's go, then?"
"Huh?" Sol looked confused.
"You said you wanted to fight, didn't you?" Yuri asked, standing up and brushing off the front of his shirt. "We should leave before more guards decide to come after us."
Sol wouldn't have admitted it at that moment, but Yuri's words made his throat grow tight, choking on tears of warmth that he was too tired to keep crying. He put his blindfold back on and adjusted his ponytail, then nodded.
"Right."
