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It was the cold breeze of air that woke up. His brother must have forgotten to latch the shutters again. He huddled into himself, but another gust sent shivers along his arm again. Damn it. Azedal heaved himself up, and immediately snapped his blue eyes open. His feet had met floor, but it wasn't the soft worn wood of the room he and his brother shared. The wall before him was stone instead of wood. The window was on the wrong side of the room and there were bars over it. His first instinct was to scream, yell, demand to know where he was and why he was here, but he squashed the instinct, inhaling deeply and letting the air out slowly. Panic wasn't going to get him past barred windows.
Where was he? Where was his brother? Azedal tried to remember the night before. Had he fallen asleep in his own bed? He couldn't be sure anymore. Had he done something stupid? Drank too much and beat a guard? That didn't seem likely. He never let himself get to that point. But the bars on the window suggested whoever had put him here didn't want him to get away. Well, perhaps he was getting a bit hasty. As far as he knew, the door could be unlocked. It only took three steps from where he stood to the wooden door. His tanned hand tugged on the handle. Unsurprisingly, it was locked and not from the inside. He let his head fall against the door. So much for that.
What was the worst that could happen? He was stuck here forever and rotted. What was the best? He couldn't think of anything reasonable. That didn't bode well for his future. How long had he been here? How long would he be here? Was there anyone out there? Aze flipped around and slid down the door to the floor and let his long fingers grab at his short brown hair over and over again. Grab, release, grab, release. Did he want anyone to be out there? In some ways it seemed safer to be alone in the room. At least he knew this place if not where it was. He had no idea even if the door opened to a hallway or another room or the outside. No. Knowing was better than rotting here. Azedal stood again, and balled his hand into a fist half to stop it from shaking and half to knock on the door. He raised it, but when he finally touched knuckles to door, it was light and not a knock at all. He was knocking from the inside of a room and had no idea where he was. Whoever was out there was likely not a friend. So did he want to know sooner or did he want to know later? Sooner. He decided. Once he knew the situation, he could maybe do something. Anything. Aze knocked twice before his courage could disappear again.
Where was he? Where was his brother? Azedal tried to remember the night before. Had he fallen asleep in his own bed? He couldn't be sure anymore. Had he done something stupid? Drank too much and beat a guard? That didn't seem likely. He never let himself get to that point. But the bars on the window suggested whoever had put him here didn't want him to get away. Well, perhaps he was getting a bit hasty. As far as he knew, the door could be unlocked. It only took three steps from where he stood to the wooden door. His tanned hand tugged on the handle. Unsurprisingly, it was locked and not from the inside. He let his head fall against the door. So much for that.
What was the worst that could happen? He was stuck here forever and rotted. What was the best? He couldn't think of anything reasonable. That didn't bode well for his future. How long had he been here? How long would he be here? Was there anyone out there? Aze flipped around and slid down the door to the floor and let his long fingers grab at his short brown hair over and over again. Grab, release, grab, release. Did he want anyone to be out there? In some ways it seemed safer to be alone in the room. At least he knew this place if not where it was. He had no idea even if the door opened to a hallway or another room or the outside. No. Knowing was better than rotting here. Azedal stood again, and balled his hand into a fist half to stop it from shaking and half to knock on the door. He raised it, but when he finally touched knuckles to door, it was light and not a knock at all. He was knocking from the inside of a room and had no idea where he was. Whoever was out there was likely not a friend. So did he want to know sooner or did he want to know later? Sooner. He decided. Once he knew the situation, he could maybe do something. Anything. Aze knocked twice before his courage could disappear again.