For the past three months, Siora had survived by eating the roots of the trees or licking on the moss. She had grown weak and gaunt and pale. She had used the well of her power to cut through the spells that they had cast around her and now her magic was just a flicker of what it used to be.
She crawled to the bars of the prison and then using them as support, she somehow got to her feet to open the lock that had rusted all these months. The magic finally sliced. She pushed her hand in between the narrow bars to reach the lock and as soon as she reached it, she tugged it open. It took so much effort to perform the simple task that she was out of breath. Siora slumped down the bars, panting heavily, excited that she had finally made it. A weak smile crossed her face. Only one last magic spell was left and after that she would be free.
