My cell was cold and damp and dark. I’m not sure if…well, what I would have seen, if there was any light, if I’d have wanted to see it. Some punishments are mercies, in the end. There was nothing very good in that cell. Bribed judges have much worse things they can do to victims, expensive things, and those who end up in such places as I did are rarely worth the money. No, it is a place for the banal evil of thieves and drunken murderers. The refuse; we were none of us so very bad as to be useful or so very good to be left alone. I fear I’m rambling. You want to know how I survived. Well, being trapped in that cell, that was the first thing, so when the fire fell, I was safely underground. I felt it, of course. Can’t tell you much more than that I thought it was an earthquake. Well, the fire was put out, and then there was that dead star, growing cold—or so I’m told. Things were in chaos, and I saw my advantage. Few guards to man the dungeon; what guards were kept were tired and grumpy—easily goaded. You have to unlock a cell, of course, to beat up a prisoner. I took a chance. He had all the advantage and blinded me with the light—clever tactic. But it was the damp that got him. He quite literally slipped up, and I ran out.
I guess it was the next day that the dead star cracked and let loose its venomous air. Really, I don’t know much more than you do about the things that happened next.
Tale Told 