Chapter 66: THIRD POV.
He forced his eyes to stay open, blinking rapidly until the blurry shapes around him started to make sense.
The mont his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, his heart stopped for a second.
His eyes widened in disbelief. He wasn’t in a coral nest, and he wasn’t on the sea floor. He saw that he was imprisoned in thick tal chains.
The cold iron was clamped tightly around his hands and feet, joining them together in a way that made it impossible to stand up straight or move freely.
He looked down at himself and noticed another change. He wasn’t bare-chested anymore, not was he nude.
Currently, he had clothing on, though the quality was questionable. It was a rough, brown material that felt itchy and stiff against his skin.
It looked more like a dirty grain sack than actual clothing.
It was torn at the edges and slled like salt and aged sweat.
"The f*cks going on?!" he blurted out in disbelief. His voice sounded hoarse, like he hadn’t used it in days.
He tried to tug at the chains, but they only rattled loudly against the wooden floor.
"Shsssh!"
He was shushed the next mont by a sharp, hushed voice.
"What on earth are you trying to do, get us all in trouble?"
Jacob stopped moving and looked around.
He saw that not only was he chained, but he was inside a cage of so kind. The bars were thick wood reinforced with iron.
As he looked past his own cage, he saw that the space he was in was wide and dim.
He wasn’t alone.
He seed to have a lot of company.
There were several other cages, and dozens of other n were chained just like him.
Their figures were bleak and hopeless. So were staring at the floor with empty eyes, while others were curled up in corners, shivering.
The one who had shushed him just then was an old man sitting in the cage right next to his.
The man had a long, dirty beard and deep wrinkles carved into his face. He eyed Jacob angrily, his lips pulled back in a scowl.
"Tsk. What’s wrong? Didn’t expect to wake up as a slave?" the old man said, his voice a low growl. "Well, neither did we. Now stop causing a ruckus, you hear? The guards don’t like noise, and they have very long whips for people who don’t know how to keep their mouths shut."
The old man scolded him as if he were a disobedient child.
"S-Slave?" Jacob blinked his eyes, the word hitting harder than it should’ve.
He glanced at his bindings again, his fingers tracing the cold tal of the shackles as if he were still trying to process his current situation.
Slave....
The word felt heavy and wrong.
To think he beca the very thing he escaped from now too long ago.
How did he go from being a powerful rman saving his friends to being a prisoner in a sackcloth shirt?
He leaned his head back against the bars of his cage, trying to think.
The last thing he could rember was being swallowed by that phenonal whirlpool. He rembered the roar of the water, the feeling of Artria’s hand in his, and the kick that sent her to safety.
Then, a great force, maybe a piece of debris or the sheer pressure of the explosion, had knocked him unconscious.
He couldn’t rember anything more than that. He didn’t know how he had reached the surface or who had found him.
’Are Persephone and Artria ok?’ he couldn’t help worrying about the both of them. Even in this ss, his thoughts went straight back to the sisters.
He hoped Persephone wouldn’t do anything drastic with his sudden departure. She was already so unstable, filled with rage and sadness.
He had been the only thing keeping her grounded.
Now that he was gone, who knew what she might do.
’Who am I kidding... She might even kill Artria this ti around,’ he thought, letting out a beaten sigh.
He felt a deep sense of failure.
He had sacrificed himself to save Artria, but with him now gone, who was going to protect her? If Persephone found her again, there would be no one to stop the younger sister from finishing what she started.
The thought of Artria dying alone in the dark water made him want to scream, but he forced himself to stay quiet.
’But wait, first of all, how did I get here in the first place? And what exactly is here?’ he said to himself after several monts of silent recollection.
He sat up a bit straighter, ignoring the bite of the chains. He glanced around at the hold again.
It was a dark, damp place that held nothing but captured n in bindings.
He realized that panicking wasn’t going to help him. He needed information.
He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wooden slats and began to focus.
His ears, still sharp from his ti as a rman, started to pick up sounds that a normal human would have missed.
He focused on his surroundings, letting the noises build a map in his mind.
The old man saw him go still and let out a small grunt of approval.
He felt relieved that the lad was finally taking his advice and settling down. He thought Jacob had simply given up.
What he didn’t know was that Jacob was secretly scanning the entire place with nothing but his ears.
’Footsteps... There’s one behind the door,’ Jacob muttered under his breath.
An image started to erge in his mind, spreading out as he honed his hearing. He could hear the soft thud of leather boots on wood and the jingle of keys.
’Several in the corridor... more above...’ He tilted his head, listening to the muffled shouts of n and the heavy thud of things being moved.
There was an occasional creaking sound, too, the sound of wood straining and groaning.
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