Chapter Text
After the day's round of intense labor came to an end, Osvald and the rest of the prisoners were given the chance to enjoy their minimal free time for the evening. Forced labor was always followed by a vanishingly small period of free time, though Osvald didn't know if he would ever truly be able to call it 'free' so long as they were all being imprisoned. Regardless, the yard of the prison had a few facilities to make the passage of time a bit more enjoyable. Prisoners could go to the library and read up on the books found within the shelves, though most of them were centered around the labor reports from the island's eighty year history as a gaol. There was a kitchen for meals to be served, and some particularly talented prisoners had taken to cooking food there when they could. Others simply chose to return to their cells to enjoy a bit of extra rest before they were dragged to their feet and forced to continue working.
Osvald never quite indulged in any of the three facilities fully though. When he had free time, he spent it as wisely as he could, and that meant thinking through the remaining pieces of his plan. Osvald could have spent his time doing other things, but he saw very little point in it when he would have all the time to eat, read, and rest after he had escaped from Frigit and then turned his fury against Harvey. Before he could do that though, Osvald had three things he still needed: an escape route, suitable clothing, and an accomplice. Everything else was in order, and he would do all in his power to ensure the final pieces fell into place so that he could flee from this miserable place once and for all.
Osvald flicked through the pages of his notebook, his frown frozen onto his face behind the muzzle he wore. When it came to an escape route, he was certain information about it had to exist. The prison had a long history, and there had to be at least a few awkward gaps for him to slip through. Not even all of the guards knew every secret Frigit had to offer, and Osvald was determined to find something they had never uncovered. Perhaps he would be able to gather a bit of information about an escape route from someone who knew more about the isle's history. If he could persuade a prisoner who had been there for a bit longer to talk, then he would be able to find just the seam he needed to pass through in order to escape from the prison once and for all.
The second matter for him to attend to was finding suitable clothing. Once he got his hands on it, he would have to hide it from the guards to ensure no one realized that he had something meant to help him withstand these frigid conditions. He would be able to lay the clothing out in his cot beneath his blanket to make sure no one asked too many questions... But first, he had to find the clothing. There was someone in the prison known as the Provisioner who would be able to give Osvald what he needed. Unfortunately, Osvald had only heard of this person through rumors and whispers, so he would have to figure out who they were before he could do anything to get the clothing he needed. He could ask other prisoners if they happened to know who the Provisioner was and then go from there.
Last but not least, Osvald would need an accomplice to ensure his logic was sound and his path was clear. It would not be difficult to find someone else who wanted to escape this miserable place as much as he did, but Osvald knew he could not pick just anybody. He needed to find someone capable of helping him to see this plan through, and they had to be trustworthy enough to not sell him out to the guards should anything go sideways. Osvald hadn't forged many bonds that could be called trusting over the last five years on account of not being able to talk, but he was going to have to try in the name of his escape. It would all fall into place the way it was meant to. He was sure of it.
Once those three matters had been resolved, Osvald would be ready to escape. He wouldn't be able to accomplish all of it in a single day, but he had high hopes that he would at least be able to make decent progress that afternoon. He scanned his eyes across the prison yard in search of his first destination, and he eventually decided to turn his attention to the mess hall. There were a lot of prisoners around at this time of day, and at least one of them was bound to have something he was looking for. He didn't know which goal of the three this would end up helping him with, but he could only hope it would end up going at least somewhere.
There weren't many guards watching the cafeteria during this shift, Osvald found. That meant this was going to be his perfect chance to find an accomplice. All he had to do was look around at the prisoners in the room and see what he could glean from looking at them. Osvald knew a lot about the various people who had been imprisoned in Frigit Isle, though that information hadn't exactly come from talking to them. Speaking was impossible so long as he wore his muzzle, so that meant he had to gather his understanding through watching. Observation could tell a person a lot, so Osvald sat down at one of the tables and got to watching the people milling around.
Osvald glanced around the cafeteria with a muted frown behind the muzzle. He knew most of these men at least vaguely, but he wasn't sure if he would be able to trust any of them. One man was too flighty and anxious, and it was clear that he had been caught for his crimes because of his tendency to ramble. Another man was one Osvald recognized for cozying up to the guards at any chance he could find for the sake of getting a leg up in the prison. It never worked, but that didn't stop him from trying. A third man was known for being boastful and overly confident, and if there was one thing Osvald would not be able to account for right now, it was an inflated ego.
The final man to catch Osvald's attention was standing by the kitchenette, and he was focusing on blending together ingredients to make a stew of some kind. The guards were more than happy to serve the prisoners slop, and anyone who wanted something that tasted halfway decent had to make it on their own. Osvald had never seen much of a point in it. Because he had to wear his muzzle, Osvald couldn't eat on his own schedule. If he was going to eat, then it had to be under close supervision from the guards. They didn't want him to cast a spell and end up killing everyone in the vicinity, so their solution was to stand on either side of him and threaten a strike each time he seemed like he was going to speak. Silence was crucial in Frigit, and Osvald knew it well.
But not all prisoners were restricted in the same ways Osvald was, and the man blending the stew had his mouth more than free. Osvald knew his name to be Emerald, and he was well-known around the prison since he had been there for quite a while but still managed to survive the labor long enough to tell the tale. His sentence had originally been thirty years, but Osvald did not know how many of those Emerald had served thus far. In many ways, Osvald found Emerald familiar. There was a fire in Emerald's eyes that reminded Osvald of the flame of vengeance that burned in his own breast. Emerald was wary of others, but beneath that, he was passionate, determined and stubborn in a way that Frigit Isle could never hope to splinter. He was sharp and resourceful... And that meant he was everything Osvald was looking for in an accomplice.
Osvald wasn't sure if he wanted to approach him just yet though. Perhaps it would be for the best if he kept his distance and watched for a few days more to figure out if Emerald truly was the man for the job... But unfortunately, Osvald didn't get the chance to do that. Emerald had noticed him staring, and he was sneaking in glances at him out of the corner of his eye. That only made Osvald want to watch him closer to see how he would respond. One of the most important criteria for his accomplice was that they responded well under pressure, and this felt like the perfect test to see if Emerald truly would be the one.
Quite some time passed that way with Osvald watching Emerald and Emerald occasionally looking in his direction to watch back. Once Emerald had finished his stew, Osvald decided he had seen enough. He would need to come up with a script on how to approach him while preparing for as many outcomes of the conversation as possible. The best way to do that was to return to his cell and begin thinking.
"You there. A word."
Osvald only managed to push himself to his feet before Emerald was calling out to get his attention, his critical eye holding firm in a way that would not let Osvald leave. Osvald looked at him in return, and Emerald gestured for him to come closer. Osvald followed the command, though he remained guarded as he approached, doing his best to not yield any information that could give up the truth of what he was trying to accomplish. Now was not the time to lose his grip. For all he knew, Emerald could turn out to be a threat instead of an ally, and he would not know for certain until it was too late to go back.
"What are you playing at, skulking around and sizing up all the prisoners?" Emerald asked, his voice low and dark. Osvald did not respond, but he did blink back at Emerald once. Emerald's gaze slipped down to the muzzle. "Ah right, you can't speak on account of the muzzle." Emerald took a step closer, and his eyes narrowed. "I've been watching you, you know. For the last five years. And all that time you've been feigning indifference while you surveil the place, right?" Once again, Osvald did not answer, but his eyes narrowed a fraction as a sign that he was listening. "The other prisoners, the guards... Everyone and everything. Watching for minute differences, like you're making some sort of audit. Far as I'm concerned, only two types of prisoners watch silently for five years. Hungry beasts... And people plotting an escape. That's it."
Osvald did his best to not let his surprise show on his face. Emerald had certainly read him well. Osvald could certainly describe himself as a hungry beast, but it was not for the blood of those he could find within the prison. There was another man he wanted to unleash his rage upon, but he could not be found in Frigit. Emerald was right about Osvald plotting an escape, and he had certainly gotten to the heart of the matter far faster than Osvald would have on his own. Osvald had been planning to watch and wait for a while longer to figure out what his strategy for approaching Emerald was going to be, but he had little choice in the matter now. This could have been his chance if he was willing to take it.
"If it's the former, I know someone who can help," Emerald went on. "But if it's the latter..." Emerald didn't let himself finish that thought, but Osvald could have sworn he saw something conspiratorial rise in Emerald's eyes. "So which one are you, Professor? Shake your head if you're the former, or nod if you're the latter."
Osvald considered his options for a long moment, trying to weigh all the outcomes he could face if this went wrong... But in the end, his initial assessment of wanting to choose Emerald as his accomplice won out, and he allowed himself to nod. He remained on guard as he did it though, wondering if this was the moment that would be his undoing.
Emerald did not cry out to one of the guards nor did he shout for the attention of the other prisoners in the cafeteria. Instead, he simply began to laugh, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. "So my eyes didn't deceive me after all. You're quite clever, I'll say that." In a moment, Emerald slipped into a far more professional tone as the desire to get to business swept through his eyes. "Now for my formal request: I want in on your plan. I can be of use to you. You'll see. I've got lots of valuable information I'll only share with a close confidant. I've collected it over my long years in this place. That's why they call me 'Emerald the Informant.' I know my information's good. Heh. You could do far worse, Professor Jailbreak."
Osvald contemplated his next decision in the silence as Emerald waited for a response. Only someone of considerable wit could have seen through his plan through mere observance. The two of them had never spoken before this moment, and yet, Emerald had still figured out exactly what it was Osvald was trying to accomplish. On top of that, Emerald was correct in saying that Osvald was in need of his information. Having an unbiased eye to examine his plan was one thing, but having an informant who knew his way around the prison was considerably more helpful. Emerald was likely the best accomplice he was going to get, and that was not a compliment to be given out lightly.
Osvald nodded, and Emerald cracked a smile that had clearly not seen genuine use since before he was first pushed off the boat onto Frigit. "I knew you'd see it my way. So, what would you have me do?"
Osvald pulled out his notepad and a pen, and he began to write on one of the blank pages near the back. He would be able to tear it out and destroy it once this conversation was over to ensure no one was able to read of what he was planning. Through his scrawling, Osvald informed Emerald of the plan. Frigit Isle was a trip of four days away from the nearest shore. Even if their escape from the island itself was successful, they would need a ship capable of making the journey to the mainland, and Osvald knew just what to target here. Every once in a while, a group of inspectors came by Frigit to see if work on the mining venture was continuing apace. Their schedule was erratic, but their ship was large enough to make the journey unless a major blizzard hit. Osvald needed to know when the ship would next be docking on Frigit so he could plan his next course of action. Unfortunately, the ledger with that information was closely guarded, and Osvald was under too much surveillance to even stand a chance of looking at what was contained in its pages. All he needed to know was the date of the next arrival of the inspectors. From there, he would be able to plan and strategize his way through the rest of the escape plan. The day the inspectors next came would be the day of their escape.
Emerald read over Osvald's summary, and he nodded slowly as he processed the words. When he finished, he cast Osvald an unreadable but determined look. "Understood. That won't come easily. Not impossible though. I'll contact you once I have it." Before Emerald could walk away though, Osvald continued to write, and Emerald read the words aloud. "'One more thing... Get me the key to this muzzle.'" Osvald tucked his notebook away, and Emerald shook his head. "Can't make any promises there, seeing as it was made just for you." He let out a small laugh and crossed his arms. "Let's just pray luck is on our side, eh, confidant?"
Osvald nodded. The plan was finally in motion. He would have to leave Emerald to do his work, but he could do that. While Emerald was busy with gathering the information and the key to the muzzle, Osvald could cover the matter of winter weather clothing and a layout of the prison so they could escape through the tunnels. The pieces were coming together, and Osvald was certain they would all fall into place the way they were meant to.
~~~~~
Soon afterward, free hours were declared over, and Osvald returned to his cell. He didn't waste any time with reviewing his plan, having already done so with the last few minutes of his free time after he parted ways with Emerald. Osvald laid down on his poor excuse of a cot and closed his eyes. Sleep claimed him almost instantly, but a voice called out to him through the darkness of his own mind.
Osvald.
Osvald...
Have you found the answer?
Osvald couldn't say for sure how long that voice had been taunting him at the edge of his dreams. He didn't remember any of the imagery that his mind may have provided during his night of rest, but he didn't think it mattered much anyway. He knew exactly whose voice that was, and it filled him with a hatred unlike anything else. That voice gave him a reason to keep going out of pure resentment alone, and Osvald felt the fire inside of him grow stronger even when the cold of the air around him threatened to smother it.
"To work, maggots! Move!"
The sharp voice of a guard told Osvald that he had woken up just in time to keep from being dragged out of slumber by one of the Frigit soldiers coming into his cell to shake him awake. He had another day of work ahead of himself, but once he was able to get through that, he would be able to plan out the next few steps of his escape. He only needed two more things now, and hopefully, he would be able to acquire two in a somewhat timely manner. Osvald was on a tight schedule since he didn't know when the inspectors' ship would next be coming, and the sooner he could get everything in order, the better. Now that he had spoken with Emerald, Osvald found himself eager to ensure the other pieces were in place, unable to fend off his impatience with the end seeming as if it may have been in sight.
After hours of forced labor, Osvald was left back in the prison yard with two tasks before him: acquiring cold weather wear and securing an escape route. He would be able to get the former from the Provisioner, whoever that was, and the latter would come to him in the form of someone who knew a lot about the prison. Either way, he would need to scrutinize a few of the other prisoners to see what they knew and then use it to his advantage.
Osvald wandered through the yard for a few minutes before he caught a glimpse of a man standing slightly apart from the others. He had his arms crossed, and he looked down on those around him with an air of superiority that most people could not maintain in Frigit. Having an ego was one of the easiest ways to end up a target of the guards, and Osvald had seen that in motion many times. If this man had that kind of confidence, then he was either new to the prison or had experience to back it up. Judging by the worn look on the man's face, it must have been the second of the two.
The man took notice of Osvald soon after the scholar arrived, and his lips twisted upward in something like amusement. "So you're the muzzled scholar I've heard so much about," the man began. "You look like you need something. Same as everyone else who comes to see me." Osvald offered the tiniest fraction of a nod. "The name's Bale. Most call me 'the Provisioner.' I can secure most anything people ask for. Not for money, given our circumstances. But everyone has something of value on them, if you know what I mean."
Osvald crossed his arms. Bale wouldn't be handing the clothing over for free, it seemed. Osvald didn't have anything to barter with either since his notebook was too important to him right now. That meant he would have to find another solution. If he could find Bale's weakness, for example, then he would be able to pressure him into handing over what he sought. Osvald would need to scrutinize the other prisoners and see if any of them had any information that could have been held over Bale's head. Osvald may not have been able to talk to ask them for secrets, but he could most certainly listen in, and if anyone caught his ear, then he could press them by writing in his notebook.
Osvald wandered through the prison, tuning in to any gossip he could hear, but he didn't catch so much as a mention of Bale. However, there was one man at the edge of the yard who was keeping an eye on him, and Osvald realized that he had not felt the gaze following his every move before he spoke with Bale. It seemed as if this prisoner had only taken an interest in watching him after realizing that he was associating with Bale. There was no guarantee the man had the information Osvald was searching for, but it was as good a place to start as any.
Osvald approached the prisoner, and the man squealed before turning away. "W-What do you want?" the prisoner asked anxiously. His reaction was much stronger than it had any right to be, and that was proof as good as any that he knew something he didn't want to share freely. It must have had something to do with Bale too, so Osvald pulled out his notebook, flipped to one of the blank pages at the back, and began to write out a question: what do you know about the Provisioner?
The prisoner practically jumped at the mention of the Provisioner, trying to scramble away from Osvald and his unspoken accusations before they could tear him to pieces. "I-I don't know anything!" Osvald narrowed his eyes, his entire face slipping into something stoic and stern. The prisoner seemed tempted to continue to press the fact that he knew nothing, but his fear of Osvald's rage ultimately overwhelmed any attempts at retreat. Instead, the man let out a sigh, all of the tension rushing out of his body with the breath. "I-I... I saw him pick up Warden Davids' coin purse the other day. I can't tell anyone though. Bale knows my weakness, and if he says anything, then I'm..."
Osvald hummed in the back of his throat, though the sound was too quiet to reach the fidgety man before him. He had heard the fuss that came with Warden Davids losing his pocket money, and the guards had shouted at anyone and everyone who seemed even the slightest bit suspicious in their pursuit of its return. In the end though, it was never taken back, and that meant Bale was able to keep it all to himself. Osvald had no interest in this prisoner's weakness or what Bale could have done to him, but this little nugget of information was going to prove useful. He was sure of it. Osvald offered a nod of thanks to the man and then started off in the direction of Bale once again. He had found the weakness he needed, and all that remained was to see how Bale would respond to it.
Bale was still staring out over the yard with his arms crossed when Osvald returned to his side. A smile twisted Bale's lips when he realized who had come back to him. "Finally come to pay, have you?" Bale asked, his voice dripping with overconfidence.
Osvald said nothing, instead writing in his notebook and tearing out the page once he was finished. He had jotted down what he had learned from the prisoner he had just spoken to, and he handed it to the Provisioner. Bale stared at the page in muted confusion. "Eh? What's that scrap of paper in your hand?" Bale read over the writing, and all the color drained from his face in an instant. "What in the--! Where did you get this?!" Bale scrambled away from Osvald in anxiety. "W-Whatever you want, it's yours! Just swear you won't speak a word of this to anyone!"
Osvald wrote his demand at the bottom of the page, and Bale nodded. "I-I'll have it for you in two days!" With that, he ran off to try and prepare the clothing Osvald sought, though it was just as likely that he was trying to escape Osvald in any small way he could. Osvald didn't care much for Bale's response to his words. His plan was continuing apace, and that was all that mattered. The warm clothing would keep him from freezing to death, and that meant all that remained was to pick up the outfits once they had been prepared and then find an escape route.
"Back to your cells, you animals!"
But the next step of Osvald's plan would have to wait. It was time for him to return to his cell, and the call of guard confirmed it. With that, he wordlessly returned to his room within the prison's underbelly, and once he was there, he laid down and let himself surrender to sleep.
~~~~~
"Osvald...
"Have you found the answer?"
The darkness against the backs of Osvald's eyelids transitioned into a familiar scene. He was standing in the laboratory located just beneath the Vanstein family home. The lab was accessible through a single set of stairs, and at the base of them was a stone room that Osvald had set aside specifically for his magical research. Papers and books littered the table, and chalkboards detailed the various theories the thirty-two-year-old Osvald had been writing down. The room was cramped and lacking in natural light, and yet, it was home to Osvald. There were few places he was more comfortable than there in his own element surrounded by the subjects he had always loved to study.
Osvald let out a sigh and shook his head. "No, Harvey. Though I have a theory," he began. Osvald raised one hand, and a fireball began to flicker in his palm. "Behold this small flame. Nothing exceptional. Yet if I apply the equation I have here, its intensity is compounded..." The fire grew to twice its size in the blink of an eye, and the firelight was as captivating as it was dangerous. "And in theory, its power is multiplied." Osvald extinguished the flame, and it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. "However, as long as it remains a flame, its power is limited."
Before Osvald was a man by the name of Harvey. His hair was a dark red color, and it covered up one of his eyes. Harvey wore dark purple clothing to contrast with the formal deep brown Osvald had always donned. There was awe in Harvey's eyes as he stared at the spot where the flame had been moments prior. "Using equations to amplify magic powers? This is incredible... You're a genius, Osvald!" Harvey turned to look back at the chalkboard, wonder sparking to life in his eyes from the inspiration Osvald had just brought to him. "The One True Magic... You're one step closer to it. To standing alone atop the summit of magic scholarship! Though I must warn you to not grow too fond of the idea, for I will surpass you."
The world around Osvald began to pinch and distort, and moments later, he was no longer in his lab. He was not in a place he could call home, a place he had always loved and enjoyed, but instead--
~~~~~
He was waking up on the cold ground of his cell on Frigit Isle. The soft warmth provided by his hometown was nothing but an old memory, and the passion of his fire spell was long gone too. All that remained now was the frozen air and the work Osvald knew he would have to do the instant the guards called for him.
"Time to work, you worthless sacks of meat! Up and out!"
As much as Osvald would have loved to dissect all the rage that dream had filled him with, he knew he had no time to dwell on it. He had another day of forced labor ahead of him, and once that was over, he would have to continue with the rest of his plan. In a perfect world, he would be able to get what he was searching for that afternoon. His escape route was within reach so long as he was able to figure out where he was meant to search. Osvald believed he would be able to do it.
But first, Osvald had work to do. All would fall into place with time so long as he was patient. He had waited for five long years, but that wait would not last for too much longer.
And when it ended, Harvey would pay for his sins in blood.