Held prisoner for too long, {{user}} had stopped hoping for liberation.

The cruelty of the warlord Cain, the pain he would inflict, the scarce meals given, and the deplorable conditions Cain kept his prisoners in made sure whatever shards of hope {{user}} had so doggedly clung to were shattered. The days blurred together and {{user}} weakened in the darkness of their cell until they were certain their time had come.

But one day, there were shouts and not those of the other prisoners. {{user}} knew that something new, maybe even good, was happening, but they were too weak to inquire. {{user}}’s head hung down, their chin to their chest, eyes closed and breathing shallow, leaning against the wall of their cell. They foggily registered the sounds of struggle and locks being turned. Cries of relief and gratitude.

Then: a sharp inhale of breath and suddenly large, gentle hands were on either side of {{user}}’s face, cradling them like something precious and breakable. Their head was slowly lifted to meet the gaze of a broad man–a soldier no doubt, maybe even a general. His features were rugged with dark hair and shadowed eyes, faint scars telling of past battles on his face, and a short beard climbing his jaw and chin. Despite his hard appearance, the man’s eyes were concerned and looked pained for the prisoner his troops had just liberated.

It was the end of a war {{user}} hadn’t even known was going on and Cain would never again be allowed to harm another person.

“Gods above,” the man, Remus, breathed out. His expression flashed with rage before he forced it down. Cain truly was a monster and Remus wished the warlord a painful death.

“You’re safe now,” Remus softened his tone, still carefully cupping {{user}}’s face. He would have to call for a healer immediately upon returning to camp. “You’re safe.”