It was three o' clock in the morning when Varian, son of Quirin, escaped from Corona's prison.
It wasn't like his conditions in the dungeon were terrible; he knew he had received more "hospitality" than others who were kept there. The most luxurious complement was having his own cell, though that was probably more out of keeping him from being killed by other prisoners. Not that he was sure they cared – the prisoners, not the guards – about whether he lived or not. In the end, it didn't matter. He was getting out, and everyone else could sit tight and rot.
It wasn't an easy feat, planning his escape. It was much more difficult than the stratagem he'd formulated against the princess. He'd had his own base before: his home. He knew the land, predicted the routes that would be taken to reach him. He had been the one in control. Now, he was trapped behind cold iron bars with a dank, moldy cot and a hole for a privy. And no ham sandwiches. At least he had Rudiger; Varian had crawled out of his self-pity long enough to acknowledge that surprising allowance.
It was a mistake the guards would soon regret.
Unlike Varian, who, if nothing else, was experiencing an inopportune time to hit a growth spurt, Rudiger was only getting bigger by one way; if Varian could remake his chimera serum. He couldn't think of anything else to call it; it was either that or P2639, which was the trial number that he'd finally deemed safe to test. But, since anything and everything Varian had ever owned had been confiscated by the Coronan army, he was playing this game with only Rudiger as his trump card.
He tapped his foot impatiently against the grimy stone floor of his cell, his arms folded as he waited for Rudiger to return. It seemed the guards didn't even realize how well the racoon could fit through the bars, let alone how intelligent the creature could be. It was nighttime, the time when Rudiger was at his best. He slept during the day, a living cushion sitting on the cot while Varian mapped out plans and alchemical compounds in his head. When night came, that was when Varian would give Rudiger very simple, but specific, instructions. He'd first tell the racoon what to get for him, then how to time his escape so that he wouldn't be seen. Rudiger was cleverer than he looked, and he'd never failed Varian yet. But he was worried this evening; he'd expected his little friend to return almost two hours ago.
He gave the far wall over his cot a split-second glance. He'd kept everything he needed behind a loose brick there. He didn't need much, but he knew that if the guards suspected anything, all his efforts would be wasted. It was a liability he couldn't afford, not now when he was so close. It had taken six months to reach this point. If things fell through, he was certain there was a chance he'd lose his mind.
A small, shuddering scuffle cracked in his ear, and he flinched at the sound. He looked to see Rudiger at the cell window, the animal's black nose twitching as he twisted his way through the bars. At the same time, Varian heard another, much more alarming sound. It was the voice of a new soldier, come to change the guard. Panic clawed its way up Varian's spine, and he hissed at Rudiger to get back. The racoon blinked confusedly before wrenching himself backwards and flying around the corner just in time for the new guard to pass by Varian's cell door.
"Heh," the guard chuckled as Varian quickly assumed a nonchalant pose and donned his usual sardonic expression. "You're still here, huh?"
Varian rolled his eyes. "Come on, Martin, where else would I be?"
The guard, Martin, jostled the keys on his belt absentmindedly. He was one of the younger soldiers, maybe eighteen. Varian could tell he was younger because he was a little more uptight than the other guards. He never took his helmet off, and the straps on his breastplate always used an extra notch. He was also more loose-lipped, one of the only guards to actually carry conversations with the prisoners. Truth be told, Varian didn't mind the interaction; it reminded him that he still existed. "Well, besides the idea of you trying to escape by now, I heard the king was finally getting around to finding some use for you."
Varian's frown became more genuine. "Like I'd work for him. But just for argument, what kind of use?"
Martin shrugged, his armor clinking. Varian couldn't see his expression through his helmet. "Research, I think. Under armored guard, of course. Can't have you trying anything funny." His posture softened. "But he has taken a lot of thought about what to do with you."
Varian made a noise between a laugh and a cough. "Of course, he has. I'm the only one who's ever managed to make him squirm. I wasn't kidding, you know. That night when I said he's been lying to everyone?" Varian knew he was a lot of things, but of that claim, he knew he was justified.
"Yeah, well," Martin learned on the wall outside the cell. "Has anyone ever told you there are enough bad things in the world that you don't need to add to?"
"And have I ever told you that this isn't a confessional?"
Martin chuckled again. "Probably a few times, now."
Varian sighed, his breath misting in the damp air. "I don't need the king's pity," he grumbled. "Or yours."
"Fair enough," Martin felt the end of the conversation. "It's wash day. I'll be waking you up in four hours for the bathhouse."
Varian waited for Martin to turn around and walk down the dimly lit hall. He watched the guard's shadow until it disappeared before lurching back to the cell window. "Rudiger!" he hissed. "Come on, it's safe now." The racoon reappeared and squeezed through the bars, leaping into Varian's arms. A small vial was clutched in his left paw. Varian grabbed it and inspected the contents. He carefully popped the cork and took a sniff. A triumphant smile spread across his freckled face. "That's the one. Good job, buddy." He felt the racoon's claws cling to his shirt as he double-checked the door before reaching for the loose brick in the wall. He peered into the hole at his other ingredients, each one painstakingly collected over the past half-year. "Let's see, there's F102, C438, S215…" He listed each one under his breath, running them through his head to make sure he had everything he needed. "That's it." He glanced at the creature on his shoulder. "Alright, Rudiger. It's showtime."
Rudiger made the closest thing to a human smile. He was ready to leave as much as Varian was. Not that he couldn't leave on his own, obviously, but he would never leave his master behind. Who would he play with?
The chimera serum had not been easy to come up with, but once Varian had known what to do, it was really a simple matter of mixing everything together. It was a formula he knew was stable; it had to be, or he would never have used it on Rudiger in the first place. He'd had Rudiger obtain the first compound in a large flask, so that he could mix everything together without using something that might tip off the guards. As he began the process, a flicker of excitement worked its way into his breast. He was really going to do it. He was finally going to be free.
Rudiger didn't need much; a mouthful was more than enough to trigger the reaction. Varian looked at the racoon and, for the first time in six months, gave a real smile. "Thanks, Rudiger. I couldn't have done this without you." He shook the flask in his naked hand. "Are you ready?"
Rudiger bared his teeth and stuck out his tongue. The serum tasted like bitter, acidic lemon. The reaction happened faster than last time; he began to twitch and stretch almost before Varian was able to set him down and back away. He capped the rest of the serum and tied it securely to his trousers. A lingering node of doubt itched at the back of Varian's head. Had he gotten it right? He was sure he'd remembered correctly. If he hadn't…
But, sure enough, the racoon began to expand. A discharge of light blossomed from the creature's skin, and Varian looked away, shielding his vision from the transformation. He still wasn't entirely sure where the light came from, but he didn't argue when he felt a massive, wet, cold nose snuffle against his cheek. He opened his eyes; he could barely see anything. His animal now took up the entire cell space. He could hear the bars straining as Rudiger tried to move his leg out of the way, enough for Varian to have room to skirt around and haul himself up onto the racoon's back. Varian could feel the muscles tense in the creature's body, and he looked to see Martin staring at them through the bars. At least, Varian assumed the guard was staring; he was standing there in his helmet, shivering with dread.
"B-but," Varian heard Martin stammer. "It's wash day!" he finally exclaimed.
"Sorry, Martin," Varian said, a wide grin spreading across his flushed face. "Tell the king I'll have to take a raincheck!"
Rudiger spun and lunged at the cell window. The bars snapped like toothpicks, and the brick and mortar crumbled like hard cheese. Varian ducked as the massive racoon scratched and dug his way out into the open air, kicking up clods of green as he dashed across the moonlit courtyard. All around, they could hear guards clambering and panicking, scrambling about for orders on what to do with a prison escape the likes of which they'd never seen.
Rudiger was a force that refused to be stopped. Some guards tried to stand in his way, spears and halberds at the ready. Rudiger batted them aside like cotton balls; Varian watched them fly into the grass, scattering like leaves as they cried out and moaned from their rough landings. As Rudiger reached the castle wall, he started to climb, his black claws digging deep into the cracks of stone. Two leaps, and they made it out into the open street. The cobblestone path was almost comically small for the racoon now; he practically frolicked past the torch lamps and empty shops. Varian saw a few onlookers peek out from their homes, gasping and screaming as his monstrosity tore past in a flurry of grey and black. Varian was sure he looked like a kid at Christmas; after six months of frowning and sulking, now he couldn't stop smiling. The open wind blasted his black hair from his face, his worn-out clothes whipping against his skin as Rudiger bore him onward to freedom.
The city guard was more than prepared for a stray thief or a suspicious trader entering or leaving Corona. But when they saw a racoon the size of a small building racing towards them, they gave in to basic, instinctual self-preservation and scattered like marbles from the gate.
"Rudiger?!" Varian's smile turned into a grimace of alarm. "Rudiger, wait!"
Rudiger plowed into the iron gates. The metal did not give way as easily as the old, rusting bars of Varian's prison cell. Varian nearly flew over Rudiger's head from the inertia of the sudden, jolting crash. Rudiger snarled and lashed out, pushing and shoving against the dent he made. The gate was stronger than Varian had predicted, and as Rudiger began to back up, he started to panic. "No, no, no, no," Varian repeated over and over under his agitated breath, his eyes searching wildly for another way around. But he knew there was no other way. He'd traveled to and from Corona before (in a deadly blizzard, no less). There was only one way by land to reach the island capitol, and that was the bridge. While still under repair from an incident that occurred on the day of the snowstorm, it was accessible to the public. But everything Varian knew about the bridge had now effectively been rendered academic. Even with Rudiger's transformation, there was no way they were breaking through that gate.
As the city guards began to regroup, Varian could hear a flood of troops erupting down the street from the castle, shouting and galloping on horseback, their suits of armor clanking and chiming through the night air. Varian felt hopelessness wrap its fingers around his neck, and he started to hyperventilate. There had to be another way. There had to be. Oxygen flooded to his brain, fueling his search for an answer.
Then he remembered. The docks. It was the only way now.
Rudiger hated water. He was more like a cat that way than anything. He didn't like being wet. Varian supposed that if he was a racoon, he might be able to understand a little better. As it was now, they didn't have a choice but to take a swim. Varian managed to calm down enough to swallow and grab the fur on Rudiger's neck. "This way," he gasped, yanking Rudiger in the direction he needed to go. Rudiger didn't understand where they were going, but thankfully, he obeyed. He dashed down the east road before the guards could reach them, and Varian ducked with a yelp as he began to hear the whistle of crossbow bolts whizzing past them. He figured the soldiers probably weren't trying to hit him. But his racoon? They'd kill his friend without hesitation. Rage pushed his fear away, and he steadied his breathing to a furious rhythm.
"We're almost there," he reassured Rudiger. "Almost there. Come on!" They finally fell out of range, rounding a street corner towards their destination. Rudiger was fast.
But as they reached the docks, Varian felt the inevitable balk as Rudiger screeched to a halt. The moist wood creaked under his weight as he whined and whimpered, nearly standing on his hind legs. Varian latched on tight, climbing his way to Rudiger's ear. "Listen," he whispered desperately. "I know you're scared. I am too. But if we stay here, they'll kill you." His father would be as good as dead, and he'd be placed under even tighter security. Varian had no intention of dying old and alone in a dungeon, which was exactly what would happen if they didn't escape. Desperate, Varian slid off Rudiger's back and ran to the edge of the dock. "Come on, buddy," he urged, beckoning to the white-eyed creature. "It's not going to hurt you, you'll float. It's not far, just…" But Rudiger sat down, staring fearfully at the lapping waves. "Oh, come on, you stupid - !" Varian realized it was time to play tough. "Fine! Go ahead and stay here! I'm gone!" He jumped into the water, boots and all, ducking under the dock to await Rudiger's reaction. Sea salt stung his nose. He held onto the post and listened, waiting with each heartbeat. One painstaking minute passed.
Then Varian saw a shadow launch through the air, and a heaving splash washed over his head. Varian spat seawater out of his mouth and quickly swam over, reaching Rudiger in a few strokes. The racoon looked like a giant, wet, grey moss ball, his fur almost black with damp as he snuffled and growled his discomfort. Varian grabbed handfuls and began to tug him back under the dock, just in time to avoid being spotted by the guards. They listened to the soldiers' pounding feet overhead; someone, probably the captain or lieutenant, barked orders to search the buildings nearby. They couldn't have just disappeared into thin air. They split up like a hill of ants, parading back towards the city streets. Varian watched Rudiger's nose, waiting. When it twitched, he knew the guards were far enough away. Treading water, he coaxed the racoon out and managed to drag himself up onto his back. The moon winked behind a swathe of clouds overhead, illuminating a path of glimmering light across the way. Waterlogged and exhausted, Varian pointed his finger forward.
"Alright, Rudiger. Take us home."