Arcrim blinked his eyes in the bright sunlight streaming through the bars in the cell window fifteen feet up. Glancing around, he noticed Erevor was already up. "Have they brought our food yet?" Arcrim asked him.
Erevor shook his head, throwing a pebble he found on the ground next to him at the wall. "Not yet. Hopefully, they'll forget today."
"You don't mean…?" Arcrim said questioningly.
"Yes. I've been giving Loraman most of my food this past week. With any luck, I'll have my powers back by the end of the night."
"Why didn't I think of that?" Arcrim said, slapping his forehead.
"Because I'm the genius. Besides, Lightning would get us all killed before we escaped. Wind is much more helpful in these situations."
"You do have a point. Have the guards noticed anything?"
"Please, those idiots? All they know is that three plates go in full and three plates come out empty. You know they never watch us eat." Erevor twirled around as the cell door opened and two guards walked in, carrying three plates of food. Setting the trays down, one of the guards walked over to Loraman's sleeping form and kicked him in the ribs.
"Get up! It's breakfast time. Dig in!" the guard laughed sadistically as he exited the cell. Rubbing his side, Loraman grabbed Erevor's plate and dragged it towards him. Scraping all but a few mouthfuls onto his, he handed it back.
"You sure you want to do this, Erevor? You're looking awfully thin," he inquired, concern lacing his voice.
"I'd rather be free and dying of hunger then alive and rotting in this cell," Erevor replied with conviction, eating what little food was left on his plate. Then, he took up a sharp, pointed rock from the ground next to him and dug it into the mortar surrounding the bricks his chains were attached to.
He had already freed one of the bricks earlier that week, and was working on the other one vigorously. He was almost done with it and would soon be free of the wall. Several minutes of intense work followed, when finally, Erevor braced a foot against the wall, grabbed the chain with both hands, and yanked. The brick came free of the wall. When the dust settled, Erevor picked the brick up and loosely fitted it back into the hole it had come from, just in case the guards came back.
Smiling victoriously, Erevor sat back down. He hadn't felt this hopeful in years. Tonight, they would escape. When guards came back in to give them their dinner, they would get a big surprise.
Erevor quickly pretended to be asleep when the guard came in with more food. The guard set the trays down and walked over to kick Erevor. When he pulled his foot back, Erevor shot his kicked out and hit the guard's ankle, tripping him backwards. As the guard opened his mouth to call for help, Erevor shot his hand out. A vacuum formed around the guards head, cutting off all airflow. Erevor held the vacuum until he was sure the guard was dead, then bent down to take the guard's keys. He unlocked Arcrim's and Loraman's chains, then removed the bricks that held his to the wall.
"We have to find our weapons. Come on," he said to the other two, leaving the room. Arcrim followed him, while Loraman stayed behind long enough to relieve the dead guard of his club.
Out in the hall, the trio snuck into the armory to see if they could find their weapons. "They've got to be here somewhere!" Loraman said, digging through a pile of various assorted weapons.
"You're still looking for your swords?" Erevor asked, hefting his glaive onto his shoulder.
"Well, not all of us can have custom-made weapons."
"Can I help it if the Queen loved me?"
"You could at least help me look?"
"Oh, so I give you extra food and this is how you thank me for starving myself? By making me look for your weapon? Wow, you'd think he'd show some gratitude." Arcrim laughed as he pulled a large broadsword out of its scabbard.
"Well, I found mine. You really need to speed up, Loraman," he said.
"Look who's talking, fatty," Loraman growled. "Here they are!" He picked up a pair of swords and thrust them into the air triumphantly.
"Alright, let's go!" Erevor said, securing the glaive to his back. Suddenly, ten soldiers burst into the room, weapons at the ready. With a quick glance around the room, Erevor took stock of the situation. Seeing that the only way out of the room was through the soldiers, he sighed heavily, then thrust his hand out in front of him. A torrent of wind blew the soldiers back out of the room and into a wall, knocking them all unconscious.
"They know we've escaped!" Arcrim shouted.
"I was really hoping I wouldn't have to do this," Erevor said as he unlatched his glaive. Holding it above his head in both hands, he began twirling it slowly. Picking up speed, it began to create a whirlwind that sucked up any unsecured object.
"Grab onto something!" he shouted to his friends as the whirlwind span faster and faster. When they were adequately secured, Erevor moved his arms down in front of him and pointed the cyclone at a wall. Suddenly, he stopped spinning his bladed staff, and a blast of wind hit the wall, tearing a hole in it. Smiling triumphantly, he expertly flipped his weapon back into its harness, took two steps forward, and collapsed, unconscious. Concerned, the other two escapees rushed forward to their fallen friend.
"What do you think happened?" Arcrim asked Loraman.
"He probably collapsed from hunger and lack of strength. That last attack wiped him out. We've got to get him out of here. Put him on your back so we can leave," Loraman answered.
"Why do I have to carry him?"
"Because you're stronger than I am. Now let's go before more guards show up." Loraman ran towards the hole Erevor had created. Sighing, Arcrim picked his unconscious friend and followed suit.