Waking up to a sharp sting of pain, Jonan groggily struggled to open his eyes, his body felt like it had been shattered, and every movement sent waves of agony through him, he could barely keep his eyelids open but forced himself to focus, the room was dark, save for a sliver of moonlight spilling through a narrow window, which means that it was night time.
He wasn't alone though, jonan's eyes shifted, and he saw other prisoners in the cell with him, their hands and feet were tied, but they looked in better condition than him, what confused him most though, was the way they looked at him with wariness, fear, and a touch of distrust.
Jonan tried to speak, but the effort only made his lips crack the pain in his jaw was unbearable, and his mouth wouldn't open properly, a strangled gasp was all he could manage.
"You don't need to try," came a gravelly voice, Jonan turned toward it and saw a middle-aged man with a somber expression, "You've been badly injured, rest for now, any movement will only make it worse."
It was true, Jonan's body screamed for rest, as much as his mind wanted to escape, his body was telling him he needed to recover first, the bandits had left him to a near deathly state, and though he hated the idea, he knew the man was right, he needed rest and heal back, if he hoped to survive.
Jonan closed his eyes again, the world slipping away as he fell back into slumber.
Only after noticing that he was completely in slumber, that they all started talking to each other again.
The middle-aged man spoke first, concern in his voice, "This young one's injuries are too severe, it will take him time before he's healed, but we will need every hand, we could get."
The chubby, disheveled man scoffed, "He'll only slow us down, the only time we can escape is when those bastards are drunk, that's when we make our move."
The old man, coughing, slumped against the wall, shaking, "You're all too hopeful, haven't you learned from this ones mistakes? escaping this place is impossible, even if we manage to flee, they know every inch of this land, they'll track us down."
The chubby man clenched his fists in frustration, the small girl beside him squeezed his hand, eyes wide with fear, he smiled at her, offering what little reassurance he could.
"Uncle... will we ever escape from this place?", one of the twins asked, worry evident in his voice.
The middle-aged man looked down at the child, his expression firm with determination, "Don't worry, little one, I will get you out of here, no matter what."
The old man just sighed deeply, resigned to his fate, "You'll see, there's no way out."
As the moonlight continued to filter into the room, the soft glow a reminder of the outside world. Yet, one question gnawed at the old man, why had the bandits treated that teeneger so violently? Why had they broken him like this? He was just a kid.
Jonan awoke again, but this time the pain was more bearable, his body still throbbed, but it wasn't the overwhelming agony it had been before, as he slowly opened his eyes, he realized something strange he was healing faster than he should have been, his limbs, once swollen and bruised, seemed less stiff, and his cuts were beginning to scab over at an unnaturally rapid pace, he wasn't sure why or how, but it was clear that his body was recovering faster than anyone could have expected.
The others noticed too, they exchanged looks of surprise and murmured to each other, astonished by Jonan's seemingly miraculous recovery.
The middle-aged man approached him, his eyes narrowed with curiosity, "You're healing faster than anyone I've ever seen... strange, anyway, do you feel better?" he asked, concern mixing with intrigue.
Jonan nodded slowly, unsure of how to explain it, "I don't know why... but at least I feel... better," he admitted, his voice hoarse but more steady than before.
The chubby man, still grumbling under his breath, eyed Jonan with a mix of doubt and cautious optimism, "well, whatever's happening, we will need every bit of strength if we're going to escape."
The old man, however, just sighed, "You're all dreaming, even if he's healing fast, this place is impossible to break out of, it's pointless."
But despite his pessimism, others plan was forming, that night the bandits were set to celebrate, they had been drinking heavily, celebrating their wild festivities, which would give the prisoners a rare opportunity to escape.
The middle-aged man nodded, "Tonight, when they're all drunk, that's when we make our move."
Jonan felt a surge of determination, he wasn't sure what had happened to him, why he was healing so quickly, but he knew he couldn't waste this chance, the others, sensing the urgency of the moment, began to prepare.
The chubby man quietly reached into his ragged clothes and pulled out a small hidden knife, he began cutting the ropes binding his hands, he worked quietly ensuring no noise attracted the bandits' attention, and one by one, he freed the others including Jonan, whose hands and feet were tightly bound at the moment.
Finally, when everyone's bindings were severed, the chubby man whispered, "We need to move quickly, who knows when they will come to check on us."
The group moved silently, tip-toeing, knowing that this might be their only chance to escape, but as they reached the cell door, they turned to the old man, who had been sitting quietly, his face filled with resignation.
The middle-aged man looked at him with concern, "You're not coming with us?"
The old man shook his head dejectedly, his expression was grim, "Escape is futile, you'll never make it, you're better off staying here than risking your lives out there, the bandits know this terrain, and they'll find you, no matter where you run."
The middle-aged man just sighed and didn't refute the old man.
The small girl clung to the chubby man, her eyes filled with fear and confusion. "Uncle, don't leave him behind..." the girl whispered.
But the chubby man stood firm, "That's his own wish, we cannot do anything about him," and then he looked towards the old man and said, "You're free to stay if you want, old man, but we're leaving."
Jonan, despite the pain still lingering in his body, felt a rush of adrenaline, this was their chance, the old man's defeatist attitude didn't matter, it was time for them to escape.
When all of them slipped out of the cell and into the dark silent corridors of the stronghold, the sound of the bandits' raucous laughter and shouting echoed from nearby, they moved as quietly as possible, hoping to avoid detection, knowing that if they were caught now, their fate would be worse.
The night was their only ally.