Clocsong

Some time later, Tito found himself on a cold stone floor. The ground was impossibly smooth, and would have caused him to gawk in wonder at any other time.

But now, Tito couldn't feel a thing.

He brushed aside salty residue from his eyes as he slowly sat up, not even bothering to look around. He presumed he was in some Knight's prison, but he had a hard time caring. The light was dim yet pervasive, illuminating everything without being even slightly bright. A wooden pallet was in the corner of the room. An unforgiving bed in an unforgiving room. A shiny steel door was set into the wall in front of him, with a small pane of glass near its top, and a rectangular cut out near the bottom.

Tito didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the empty hole. Time didn't seem to pass as it should, though he wasn't sure if it was the place he was thrown in or his state of despair. At one point, some guard had tried to slide food under his door, but he didn't touch it, so they removed it, likely to give it to another prisoner who would.

Flashes of Huli invaded his silence from time to time. Sometimes they were pleasant memories; times she had taught him to wind a spring, or how gear trains worked. Other times, he saw her beautiful corpse, laying in a pool of unholy blood. He heard Burris' voice whisper in his ear, taunting him and cursing Huli's memory. He heard his own voice in his mind, a soft wail. His only anchor had been cast away like a rag doll, after all.

A face peeked into the glass pane for a moment, someone with charcoal black hair. After a moment, the door swung open, and the figure stepped into the room.

After a moment, Tito managed to draw his gaze towards the individual. It was a young woman, with black hair tied up behind her ears. A small pin was inserted in a bun above her head, and her soft features contrasted with piercing eyes and a sharp yet small nose. She wore the getup of a Knight, though hers was remarkably clean. He figured he would have found her cute in the past. Now, he could only stare with dead eyes.

"Talkative one, are we? Eyes up here." Tito drew his gaze to hers. Her voice was high but clear and soft. "What were you doing over the old lady's corpse?"

Tito felt a grimace tighten his face, but didn't respond to the question. "What do you want?"

She tilted her head. "I'm not sure yet. It appears you've killed a citizen, which is usually immediately followed by execution. But you don't look like you sought to kill her in cold blood, considering you wept above her corpse for who-knows-how-long."

Tito snarled as anger welled up inside. "Considering you all swept through the city, massacring everyone you could find, I'm both surprised to see myself alive, as well as certain you have no right to judge me for murder."

The girl ignored his outburst, though he thought he saw a flash of pain in her eyes, which confused him further. "Did you kill the woman?" she asked plainly.

Tito felt his anger slowly replaced by hollow despair again. "No." He slumped back against the wall.

She continued to watch him curiously for a moment, before turning around and leaving the cell, shutting the steel door behind her. He heard her mention something to the guards outside, though he did not know what she said.

A few minutes after she left, Tito sighed and looked around his cell. Aside from the wooden pallet, a small table was pressed against a wall, made of some sort of smoothened stone. Manacles hung to the wall, but the Knights didn't seem to deem him as dangerous, as he was not bound by anything. They still had taken his belongings from him, including his clothing, replace by a simple pair of thin trousers and a rough linen overshirt.

He managed to push his hopelessness aside for a moment, distracting himself by focusing on his current situation. Why the hell am I here? He hadn't seen a single soul spared by the Knights in the city -- the thought of the corpses strewn across the familiar streets still make him woozy -- and yet he had been simply thrown into prison. Was Huli important to them, enough to bring him in for questioning? Was the Knights insurrection related to Burris' investigations? Maybe they needed to learn more about the older man from Tito.

He found no answer that made sense to him. He found himself twirling a lock of his hair -- a nervous tick that Lucienne had tried to rid from him long ago, unsuccessfully. And Lucienne, and the girls. What happened to them? Another pit fell in his stomach as he thought about what might have happened to them. If I lose them, then I truly do have nobody...

He pushed those thoughts aside quickly. He didn't know what path forward was the right for him at this moment, but wallowing in despair wouldn't help with any. Maybe I should figure out how to get out of here. Whether by sneaking out or talking his way out, he decided he would try. He distracted himself best when he was focused on a goal.

There was no obvious way to escape the cell, unsurprisingly. The walls were made of tightly sealed stone bricks, and the only entrance was the thick steel door. He pressed against it testily, but it didn't budge an inch. Locked from the outside somehow. And the opening in the bottom of the door was too small for him to slip through -- Tito was lean figured, but his shoulders had broadened in recent years, probably due to the labor around the House Elriss he had assisted with.

He figured he might be able to slip his head through, to see down the corridor outside. After listening to make sure nobody was coming, he poked the top of his head through. To the right, the corridor came to an end, with similar doors lining the walls.

But to the left, the corridor lead to a small landing. A stone desk, much larger and more ornate than his own, sat to the side of the landing, where a Knight in uniform sat, perusing a stack of papers with a quill in his mouth. A stairwell sat behind the man, who luckily was too invested in his papers to notice Tito.

Tito quickly pulled his head inside, not willing to risk a further glance. No way I'm getting past that guard.

But surely the guard couldn't be there all day. People needed to sleep, and hopefully, they wouldn't think to keep watch all day. So, Tito decided to keep note of the guards.

He payed close attention for the next day, keeping track of when he saw guards. With regret, it seemed the guard Knight switched off several times a days and never left the post empty. However, every few hours, the same guard came down the hall to bring food to the inmates. The walked down the corridor, one door at a time, dropping off food.

One mealtime, Tito found himself preparing for the guard's visit. The guard slid a bowl of warm, unflavored porridge under the door, looking disdainfully at Tito. Tito hungrily ate the food. It wasn't just for show; he was starved after spending hours closely surveying the guards.

A handful of seconds after the guard passed, bringing the tray of porridge down the aisle, he poked his head out into the hole. There was no other guard at the post; the one Knight was still feeding the prisoners, leaving the post open.

Tito pulled back into the cell once again, grinning for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. I can do this. He just needed to get the door open, and then he could escape.

And he had a plan for that. "Excuse me sir," he called down the hall.

A handful of seconds later, the Knight was glaring into the glass pane. "What?"

Tito swallowed his anxiety. "I think I have some information on the lady that died. The one I was accused of killing."

The man continued to cooly glare at him for a few moments. He ducked away again. He didn't return in the next few minutes, causing Tito to sweat. Did it not work? Does he know I'm up to something?

The sound of footsteps called his nerves, though anxiety still rang through his skull. This could fail really easily, he thought to himself. Another figure opened the door, different from the guard.

He had expected the same Knight that had interviewed him last time, but it was a new one, a blond haired man with a scruffy beard. He looked sternly at Tito. "You messing with my time, boy? Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

Tito swallowed again, though his throat was dry. "I didn't think it was important earlier, because of the state I was in. But I think I saw the person who killed Huli -- the clockmaker."

The man peered at Tito through bushy eyebrows for a few moments before loosening his gaze to curiosity. "Spill it."

"I was leaving the shop right before Huli was shot -- and this lady entered the building just seconds after I left." He described a woman he had seen at some point that day on the streets, a corpse on the road. He didn't want to throw Avis under the bus, not to these Knights anyway. "I heard the shot just after she entered the shop."

The Knight looked at him for a few moments, the disdain never leaving his expression. "Thank you for your cooperation," he said suddenly. "Yerrin, give this boy an extra serving." He quickly turned away, ducking down the hall.

Tito inwardly grimaced at the demeaning move by the blonde Knight, but smiled regardless. "Thank you, kind sire." He hated the words as he said them.

The Knight Yerrin scoffed as he gave Tito another bowl of the stew, but didn't say anything. Just as the guard was closing the door, Tito slipped a piece of stale bread into the lock mechanism, before sliding back and hungrily eating the rations he was given.

He sighed inwardly as the man rounded the corner to give the rest of the prisoners their stale meals. Hopefully, the bread would prevent the pin from locking in to the slot. To confirm his hopes, he slightly nudged the door, which moved open a hair.

A grin crept across his face once again. It was time to get out.