Day by day, Nox now ate all his meals alone. He no longer saw either Torven or Velkan, and the only person he encountered was a petite, elderly maid who brought him to his room not only meals, but also books.
All the books she brought were about the art of painting, filled with instructions: how to hold a brush, which canvas is best to use, and how to protect artwork from moisture. Nox read about still life composition and how to best position an easel outdoors when painting landscapes.
'What nonsense,' he thought. 'It would be better to read something on sword techniques or at least hand-to-hand combat. Why would they give me those books? Do I look like someone interested in art? Or perhaps they just don't want me to get stronger...'
He shut the book quickly and reached for the next one. He skimmed through several volumes, but something caught his eye as he picked up the last. A tiny corner of paper peeked out from between the pages. Nox tugged on it and found a small note folded in half. He opened it, and his eyebrows rose. The note read:
"I'm sorry.
Velkan."
Nox wasn't even sure if the note was meant for him, or perhaps for the elderly woman who brought him food. Still, somewhere deep down, reading it brought him a faint sense of warmth. He placed the note back where he had found it, just in case it was intended for someone else, and set the book aside.
It was clear that Velkan had been removed from his duties. Nox had neither seen nor heard him for days.
Nox looked towards the table in his room. The day before, he had noticed a slightly protruding nail on its leg. He hoped he could slowly pry it loose and use it later, perhaps as a tool to unlock a door, or even for self-defense. Half a day passed that way. When he looked out the window, he saw that it was getting dark.
It was time for dinner. Nox sighed, pulled on his gloves, and waited patiently. The elderly maid brought him the dinner, and he ate his meal in silence and solitude
Dinner tasted better than usual that evening. The food seemed richer, more plentiful, with more vegetables. He ate slowly, savoring every bite. He left only a few broccoli florets, he didn't like them. Gently, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed it on the right side of his plate. For a moment, he waited for someone to maybe come and see him in his room, but no one came. It was very quiet.
Suddenly, the front doors burst open. Nox held his breath, expecting Torven to storm in.
Instead, a trembling large figure appeared: Velkan.
"Come quickly," he said. "Torven won't be back for a while. Run. I'll hold him off."
It was the first time the broad-shouldered warrior had ever spoken directly to him, and now his voice was urgent, almost... protective?
Nox didn't ask questions. He didn't have time. But a flicker of understanding, or maybe just desperate hope, told him that Velkan was trying to make amends for the way he'd treated him before.
He jumped to his feet and ran. With all his strength. First out of the house, then toward the stables. Though still weakened, he felt a bit stronger and thought that if his time was running out, he would rather spend it as a free man.
Only one thought ran through his mind: 'Faster, faster.' He tried to spur himself on. Finally, he reached the stables. For a long moment, he wrestled with the doors.
They were locked.
The hope of escaping the estate felt more distant than ever.
Nox stood in front of the locked stable doors, breathing heavily. He pressed his forehead against the cold wood, closing his eyes for a moment.
He knew time was slipping away, and that any delay could cost him his only chance.
Finally, with a heavy heart, Nox took a step back. He looked once more toward the stable.
He then turned away and disappeared into the night, leaving Gerhart behind.
Nox kept pushing his way through the bushes surrounding the estate. He paid no attention to the fact that every bit of his exposed skin was scratched; his face, his neck, even his scalp were burning. He wasn't sure whether he'd chosen the shortest path to freedom or if he was simply lost in this labyrinth.
He didn't even have a knife or any tools to help him get out. Still, he decided to push through as fast as he could, brushing branches aside mostly with his hands, making sure to shield his eyes. He could feel adrenaline burning in his veins when he finally saw the branches thinning.
Finally, he broke free from the underbrush. In front of him stretched open ground - not wide, but exposed. In the distance loomed the edge of the forest. Nox knew that out in the open, he was most likely to be caught. He had to make it to the trees as fast as possible. He took a deep breath and ran forward. In his ears, a loud 'thump-thump-thump' echoed. For a moment, he was sure it was them; that they had found him, that HE was coming.
He turned his head mid-run to check how close the pursuers were.
But no one was there.
He suddenly realized that the pounding sound was his own heartbeat. He was already struggling to breathe. 'Just a bit further', he thought. He looked back several more times to be sure no one was following him, then dashed into the forest.
Inside, the silence was so deep it made him uneasy. The only thing he could hear was his ragged breathing. He did stumble upon an old, long-forgotten trail, but figured they'd find him easily there. He chose instead to go off-trail, roughly keeping northward.
The forest was not a welcoming place. That heavy silence was broken only by the rustle of branches. At every small crack or snap, Nox turned instantly, checking if someone was on his tail. The night had fallen, and he couldn't see any light through the branches anymore. The only light came from the stars above and the moon.
'Damn Moon', Nox thought.
He'd been walking for maybe an hour, too exhausted to keep up his fast pace, when he began to wonder if any predators lived in this forest. He didn't even finish the thought when he felt an unbelievable pain and heard a loud snap beneath his foot at the same time.
He cried out and instinctively curled in on himself. Tears welled in his eyes from the pain as he clenched his jaw, desperate not to make any more noise. He dug his nails into his palms, forcing himself to stay quiet.
Nox looked down and saw a bear trap clamped tightly around his ankle.
"Oh, shit...", he muttered.
His leg was completely crushed around the ankle. Blood was flowing freely, and when he tried to examine it, his fingers slipped around the wound as if covered in slime. Nox could feel with the tips of his fingers how the flesh hung loose beneath his touch and how twisted and disfigured the bones had become. Nothing was where it should be. For a second, he was grateful for the night and that he couldn't see the damage very well. He felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness.
He grabbed both sides of the trap and pulled with all his might, trying to pry it open. It didn't budge. It seemed locked with inhuman force.
'Not even Torven could open this', he thought.
'What an irony, comparing myself to that asshole even now.'