WARNING: Some violence and hinted violence in this chappie! You've been warned!

"The long-lived continue without change, their eyes closed while the world collapses around them." - The Prophecies of Light

Peeking his head around the corner before him, Wonwoo released the breath he'd been holding as he realized that it was clear, and he darted down to the next doorway to hide once again. His heart felt like it was going to pop straight out of his chest; the entire time that he had been following the guards, he had narrowly missed being discovered by other people traveling the halls. He'd taken to stopping before each crossing and listening closely before even peeking out, and so when he looked out from his newest hiding place and came face to face with a slender, startled servant boy, he very nearly jumped out of his skin.

The startlement faded quickly, though, replaced with fear, and Wonwoo realized that the servant not only knew who he was, but knew that the guards were looking for him. Quick as a cat, he reached out to grab the boy's throat and pull him close. He knew when the servant felt the knife on the inside of the long, flat ring that adorned the middle finger of Wonwoo's right hand, because the boy froze and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Be quiet," Wonwoo warned, then tried the handle to the door behind him. It was locked, but even as he shifted to try and look out into the hallway for another hiding spot, his eyes caught the keyring on the boy's belt. "Do you have a key for this door?" he asked, and when the boy hesitated, he tightened his grip on his throat, the knife cutting in ever so slightly. 

"Yes!" he squeaked, a bit louder than Wonwoo would have liked. He only motioned roughly, though, and waited with his heart in his throat as the boy's hands fumbled through the keys until he came across the right one. The door opened with a click, and Wonwoo shoved him into the room and released his hold on his throat as he did so.

"Strip," he ordered as he closed the door behind them, motioning at the boy's livery. The terrified look that he gave Wonwoo made him want to roll his eyes, but he did as the thief said and removed the dark blue and grey tabard to hand it over. Wonwoo accepted it and, with a reminder glare at the servant, pulled it over his own clothing. It fit tight, as he had suspected it would, but just the colors would help him to blend in with the rest of the people in the Keep.

"I'm sorry about this," he said honestly. The servant boy still had a look of confusion on his face when Wonwoo's fist hit him in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs and making him double over. He followed it with a hard knee to the face, and from the quick way that the young man fell to the floor then, Wonwoo knew he wouldn't be waking for a good hour or so. He did feel guilty about it, but desperate times...

He did take the servant's keys, though. Back in the hallway, he had to force himself to act like he belonged there, in the open, and was about a specific task. It must have worked, because the first time he passed another servant, he didn't even get a strange look, just a nod of the head as they went. He breathed a sigh of relief and moved as quickly as he could without running, trying to find the guards that he had lost during the scuffle with the servant.

He didn't find them again, but it turned out that he didn't need to. As he wound further down into the lower levels of the Keep, his intuition got stronger and stronger that he was moving in the right direction. When he reached a large, iron bound door at the bottom of a set of stairs more than two floors below the kitchens, he was pretty sure he was onto something.

Pushing it open, he found a long, narrow hallway, with a small door along one wall and with another iron door at the other end. Having no place to hide there made him nervous, but he tried to pull confidence from his stolen uniform and moved toward the far door. When he got to the small door in the center, he listened carefully before peeking around the corner. Two guards sat in the chair, playing at dice, it seemed, and he darted past the door using every ounce of skill he had to stay silent. He breathed out a small sigh of relief as the guards made no sounds of pursuit, and so he moved quickly down toward the final door. He reached it and this time when he pulled it open, he found that he had reached the cells.

And in the second one on the right, lay Hyesung.

Wonwoo closed the door behind him, before moving toward the Mage's cell. He crouched down outside of the cell and surveyed the man for a moment, taking in the burns, bruises, and broken legs and fingers with a heavy pang of guilt. He had known when they arrived that Youngsaeng was not a good person, and yet he hadn't followed his instinct and insisted on staying together. Not that it would have likely done any good - the Marcher Lord would have likely brought them all three to the cells without hesitation - but still, looking at the obviously tortured man, Wonwoo couldn't help but to feel responsible.

"Hyesung," he called softly, wondering if the man was even conscious. When he didn't get a response, not even a lift of the head, Wonwoo then had the sudden flash of fear run through him that maybe t