"Did anyone get the license plate of the truck that hit me?"

 

The pounding headache was terrible so Ryan tried to rub his forehead, but for some reason, he couldn't lift his arm very far. He tried the other but only managed to lift it a similar distance before, again, he failed to lift his arm more than a few inches

 

A concerned female voice spoke, "My lord? Are you awake?"

 

Ryan blinked a few times as he groggily awakened. He attempted to adjust to the daylight streaming through a row of narrow windows that lined one wall of the room. Each window cast a beam of light into the room, creating a display of dancing dust motes suspended in the air. An especially intrusive ray of light shone directly in his face, causing him to reflexively attempt to shield his eyes, but yet again, he found he couldn't move his arm. This time he heard a distinctive metallic clinking sound. Lifting his head to look, he saw both wrists were chained to the bed frame.

 

"Ah." Ryan's head fell back against the pillow, "Makes sense."

 

A young woman dressed in a maid's uniform moved into the blinding sunbeam as she came into view and leaned down to examine him. The effect of which gave her a soft halo and made it difficult to make out her features, "Lord Ratliff?"

 

Ryan snorted with a wry smile, correcting the maid, "Lord? No, no, no... that's my FATHER. Call me Crush."

 

The maid, puzzled by the unusual name, hesitated before cautiously repeating, "Crush?"

 

Ryan squinted at her for a moment then closed his eyes. "It's a joke. Reed, I think. Just, Reed. I find that 'lord' stuff annoying." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before delivering a compliment, "Did you know that with the sunlight streaming around you like that, you look like an angel?" Playfully, he opened one eye slightly and offered her a smirk.

 

The maid's cheeks flushed with a bashful hue as she stammered, "I-I-I am HARDLY an angel, good sir." Her gaze momentarily averted, yet a soft, pleased smile lingered on her lips, betraying that she didn't entirely object to the compliment.

 

Turning away from Ryan, she closed the curtains, allowing the room to fall into a more subdued light. With the sunlight now blocked, her features became clearer. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with mousy brown hair and a slender face adorned with delicate, thin lips. Her physique suggested fitness and a slender build. She looked like a dancer, but more of a ballerina, than of the 'exotic' variant. Her demeanor was graceful, almost regal, despite her domestic attire. She exuded a natural beauty. She was one of those women who didn't wear makeup because she didn't need it. Ryan found it hard not to stare as she seemed to carry with her a sort of nostalgia for places you'd never been and things you'd never done.

 

"You are in the palace infirmary, I've been tending to you for three days now." She turned to face him, holding her hands together as if in prayer, "I'm sorry. I have little time to feed you. I am to alert the chancellor when you awaken." She paused to grab a glass and reached for a pitcher of water.

 

“IF... I awaken, you mean.” She glanced at Ryan for a second before filling the glass. Ryan squinted slightly before continuing, "Regardless. Thank you very much for taking care of me. Although that is a very strange thing to do, considering I was scheduled to be executed... what? Two days ago?"

 

The maid jerked her arm in surprise, spilling some of the water and abruptly putting down the pitcher, "Excuse me?" She turned to focus her full attention on him, a most concerned look upon her face, "I am unaware of any such thing. I was told to make your health and care a priority." She put a gentle hand behind his head and helped to lift him while putting the glass to his lips. Ryan drank deeply, suddenly realizing just how thirsty he was.

 

As she took it away, she turned to the tray next to her and proceeded to cut up what appeared to be meatloaf. She paused, then grabbed a pillow from the next bed over and put it behind Ryan’s head to prop him up. Taking up a small, bite-sized piece on a fork she offered it to him, "You should eat something, but not too much."

 

Ryan stared at it and said, "Reminds me of a movie." The maid tilted her head to the side with a quizzical, yet cute expression on her face. Ryan closed his eyes and shook his head briefly, "Never mind." Then abruptly opened his mouth wide.

 

The maid furrowed her eyebrows, "They told me you might say some crazy things and I am not to put much stock in it." then put the food in his mouth, "Please chew carefully."

 

Ryan chewed the cold food and swallowed. He could feel it slide down his throat making him feel more than a little queasy, "Ugh. Perhaps a bit too much."

 

The maid pulled back and nodded, "I'll see about getting you some soup." She was about to take the tray away when Ryan had a devious thought.

 

Ryan interrupted her as she was lifting the tray, "Wait! It WAS tasty. My compliments to the chef! Do you mind leaving it? For later?"

 

The maid looked at the tray, then at Ryan, and smiled, "Sure." She pushed the tray and the small table away from Ryan so he couldn't reach it. She was about to turn away to leave when she thought of something. The maid turned back and took the knife from the tray and slipped it into one of her many pockets.

 

"Now I need to go tell everyone you are awake. I have no idea how long I'll be gone, but I'll be sure to return as soon as possible." She ruffled his hair and then smoothed it back down as she asked, "Should I leave the pillow?"

 

Ryan nodded, "Please. And thank you." He gave her his most charming smile, "And for what it's worth, you are the kindest person I've ever met... in this lifetime."

 

The maid pulled back with wide eyes, then gave Ryan a sly, sideways look, "You are quite the charmer, Reed." She hesitated for a moment then said simply, "Charity." Ryan didn't know what to make of this and gave her a questioning look. She immediately clarified, "My name is Charity."

 

Ryan opened his mouth wide and said, "Oooooohhhhh... Of course you are." He then thought ~The naming conventions in this place are just a LITTLE too on the nose.~

 

The maid's departing smile left a trace of intrigue in Ryan's mind as she gracefully walked away, presumably to convey his situation to the doctor or whoever held authority here. His eyes remained on her retreating form, and he couldn't help but entertain a playful thought, ~Hate to see you go.~ He strained to lift his head off the pillow so he could get a better look at her retreating form, ~but I love to watch you leave.~

 

Observing the alluring sway of her shapely figure, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity, wondering, ~Who the hell wears high heels as a maid? What are her ankles made of? Iron?~

 

Once the door closed, Ryan redirected his focus to his predicament. He began testing the bonds that held him, his eyes scanning the room for any clues or opportunities that might help him escape.

 

He was in a bed in the furthest corner from the exit. There were windows, but they were narrow, like arrow slits. No way to get out that way unless he could burrow through rock. There were eleven other unoccupied beds. Each one had a small end table like his, and the only other thing of note was the wooden tray with the plate of meatloaf, a fork, and a half-filled glass of water.

 

---

 

Elsewhere, in the plane of the gods, two figures stood surrounded by rolling fog as they gazed into the mortal realm. One was tall and willowy, possessing long hair and feminine curves. The other was squat, wide, and sporting a rolling grey beard. The tall one spoke first, "Don't you think you should have given him more instructions?"

 

The shorter one grunted, "Bah. I've given him my blessing. If he can't figure it out, he's not worthy of my attention.”

 

---

 

Ryan's eyes darted around before he let out a long, defeated sigh, "Hmmm..." He slammed his head back against his pillow as an idea started to rattle around in his head. Calculations ran through his mind unbidden. He looked at the wall, then at the tray, then back again several times. As he did, he started to see angles and vectors. Probabilities and force measurements popped in and out of his foremost thoughts.

 

"No..." Ryan muttered himself as he looked up and down the bed. He tested the range of movement of his arms, then lifted his unbound legs, "No." He laid back for a second, "It couldn’t be that simple." Then curled up his legs, twisted to the side, and carefully took aim against the wall.

 

He kicked HARD.

 

As the bed shifted away from the wall and collided with the table, Ryan found himself in a precarious situation. The tray holding his meal teetered on the edge, threatening to fall to the floor. Without hesitation, he raised one leg and brought it down with precision, aiming for a specific point on the trap with an exact amount of force. His action had a calculated purpose.

His skillful maneuver succeeded in launching both the fork and cup into the air. The cup landed on his chest, spilling its contents all over him, but the fork sailed through the air to land in his left hand with uncanny accuracy. Ryan shook the water out of his eyes before lifting his head to stare at the fork.

 

"No. Goddamn. Way."

 

He bent the three-pronged fork against his restraints until only one prong was still pointing out. He rammed the point down a few times against the cuff on the bed until the tip was wavy. In his head, he could feel that it was exactly the way he intended it to be.

 

"No way."

 

He looked at the fork then flipped it to his other hand, catching it effortlessly. With a bit of a flourish, he put it in the lock to his restraints and proceeded to twist. The lock suddenly clicked. Ryan remained perfectly still from shock, "No..." with the feeling that this was a dream and one false move would wake him up, Ryan lifted his arm and the restraint fell away.

 

"...Way."

 

Ryan looked at the fork, then at the second set of restraints. He proceeded to chew on the end of the fork. The metal bent easily between his teeth, as he warped it into a new shape. Shoving it into the remaining lock, with a twist of the wrist the manacle popped open and fell away.

 

Ryan sat up in bed completely dumbfounded. He stared at the fork, slowly turning it over and over in his hand while letting out a low whistle. He muttered to himself, "Holy shit. This must be that cheat power I've heard about."

 

---

 

The two figures watched all this and the shorter one elbowed the figure next to him in the thigh, "See? I knew he was a smart one." He smiled and folded his arms with a look of satisfaction on his face.

 

---

 

Ryan held the instrument of his liberation in front of his face, "I must be blessed by..." then abruptly raised the tool high over his head with both hands, "THE GOD OF FORKS!!!"

 

---

 

The squat figure's face palmed hard enough to create a thunderous *BOOM*.

The taller figure gently placed her hand on his shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze.