ROLEPLAY

      
"Freedom," said the man in a low voice.

Eeri opened his eyes wide in the direction of the helmeted figure who had just slipped into the doorway. It was night. The guards had left her tied hand and foot, in a sitting position.

"I am Rapid Arma. You can call me Arid."
"Rebel Ocyx," the fyrette replied, emerging from her half-sleep without much thought.
"We know."
"Freedom," she repeated, incredulous.

The homin undertook to untie Eeri, while she recovered her spirits, still drowsy.

"They want to kill me, right?"
"No, but they're planning to keep you here a long time. It's the same thing. Sometimes we change places in a hurry, and some prisoners may be forgotten."
"And it's that easy to escape?"
"No. But we think there are no other spies in The Citadel at the moment. The guard has relaxed a bit, luckily."
"Spies from whom?"
"Of those who seek to harm Marauders of The Citadel."

The homin, who in the meantime had untied the Fyrossa's bonds, beckoned her to silence and follow him. As he closed the door of the cell, he picked up a bag lying there.

"What's left of your stuff… I'll give you another armor, this one will be too flashy."
" … akep."
"Your companion is free, certainly much more carefully watched than you. He leaves tomorrow for a climb up the ridge."
"I must join him…"
"First, follow me. You need a meal, and sleep."

Eeri followed the homin through a multitude of labyrinthine tunnels, and sometimes paths in the open air. When they heard Marauders nearby, they stopped and waited, wanting to avoid running into them and having to converse. After a good hour of walking, the homin announced that they had arrived. He pushed open a slightly hidden door at the end of a tunnel and the two of them entered a dimly lit room furnished with a table and a bed. The homin laid down the bag containing Eeri's belongings.

"Here you are in one of the lairs of the Seekers of Elias of The Citadel."
"So here too, one must hide?"

The homin took off his helmet and smiled.

"When one has secretly freed a prisoner, one avoids taking her to the tavern."

A Matis. Not very tall, in the prime of life, hair a deep black, piercing gaze. He indicated the table a little further, on which were already some dishes, and invited him to sit down.

"I'll be right back," he said. "I'll get you a drink."

A few minutes later, he returned, a mug of shookie in hand. The incredulous expression of the Fyrossa, when he put the tankard in front of her, provoked a satisfied smile from the Matis.

"I well recall that Ocyx Rebel was a great lover of shookie."
"You… know me?"