"Oi prisn'r! Whaddya think yer doin'?" shouted the guard, bashing the cage with a wooden bat.

Chess was trying his hardest to draw even the tiniest bit of metal out of his cell; he hadn't had any luck so far.

As far as his shadow manipulation went, he wouldn't be able to utilise it because he was exceptionally weak in the area of shadow offense; he couldn't even solidify his own shadow.

Before Chess had realised a question had been asked of him he was being dragged from his seated position to the front of the cell by the guard.

"Don't think I don't know what you're tryin' to do! If you try something like that again you'll be cross-cuffed through the bars!" the guard threatened.

Chess was dropped into a newly erected earthen cage so as to allow the guard to exit the cell. The small cage was settled back into the pit and the guard stared down at him with narrowed eyes. His black sclera (A/N: the white bit of the eye) was strangely unnerving to Chesshire after having been surrounded by normal-eyed children and teachers for three and a half months.

"You're pretty smart; you don't underestimate your prisoners," the thought seemed to have slipped through his verbal filter.

"You'd do best to remember that, brat," the guard growled warningly.

"I'm seventeen; not a brat," Chess had grown up with everyone calling the little kids brats when they annoyed them but he certainly heard the language turn a bit filthier for those over the appearance of twelve; it changed to 'tadiza' for the most part.

"Another word from you brat and you'll see I don't make empty threats!" the guard shouted. He looked a bit flustered.

The tall man went back to patrolling, drumming his bat against the bars like a kid next to a picket fence. As he went, Chess edged his way back to the middle of the cage.

He chewed on his own tongue experimentally before he clamped down on it, his sharp canines piercing his tongue, albeit shallowly. He had been in the prison for nearly three weeks; this was probably one of the most drastic escape methods he was willing to try; harming himself to the point of bleeding. Because he had a strong grip on his metallic abilities he was able to draw the excess iron that was stored in his blood if he had enough.

Unfortunately, enough was not achieved.

He watched for the guard again, counting the footsteps: "Eighty-two left, thirty-six right; seventeen past my cell… Fifty-fifth is the bite step," Chess muttered, hunching over and hugging his steadily thinning knees.

He counted to fifty-five in his head before sinking his teeth into his right forearm. He increased the pressure until the beautiful coppery taste entered his mouth.

Chesshire spat the blood out and positioned his arm so the blood would flow onto the earth, some of it splashing on his bare feet.

He moved his left hand over the puddle, concentrating on attracting the metals to his palm.

If only he had listened; then he would've heard the clatter of the bat on the bars…

Clack…

Clack…

CLACK!

Sepherino was happy the holidays were nearly over; he'd tried to get to know Maria, he really had, but as soon as he tried he figured out that she was a surface dweller; as shallow as a wading pool. She wouldn't cut out the suck-up act, all because his parents were famous…

He'd wished he could've spent the holidays with Chess instead; at least he didn't lie to him. But Seph respected Chess' need to see his brother ad besides, now he could be more excited about seeing him at school.

Three heavy thuds made Seph jump. He went to the door and opened it to see Jamie Bocce.

"Good morning Sepherino, do you mind if I come in?" Jamie asked in his soft voice.

"Morning Jamie, you're welcome to some morning tea if you like," Seph replied with a nod, stepping to the side and motioning to the parlour that Seph had previously occupied.

Jamie sat with practised grace on a plush lounge, Seph sitting in the armchair opposite, Feero stretching out on the back.

"So windy, what can I do for you?" Seph said, resuming the consumption of his muffin.

"I wanted to ask if you know where Chess is; I wanted to see if you two wanted to spend a day or two up at our vineyards," Jamie said, ignoring the nickname.

"I do know where he is but he's spending time with his family so he probably won't come," Seph said. "As for me, I've been told to stay put until my parents come back."

"Where are they?" Jamie asked, grabbing a biscuit from the plate.

"They were sent on a raid to Koppa mountain the other day; there's an SF base rumoured to be there," he explained.

"Avir said there'd be a rescue op as well," Feero added, stretching out his paws.

He'd gotten bored of the serval form surprisingly quickly and had resolved to stick with what he really looked like; he even had the orange scarf on.

"Who's Avir?" Jamie asked; the name seemed familiar.

"My father's arizen; he played a big role in the victory of Lax Plateau a couple years back," Seph explained. Jamie made a noise of recognition and brushed some crumbs off of his slacks.

"Sorry I can't come, I guess I'll still see you at school," Seph apologised, standing up.

"Oh! Oh, right," he said with a nervous laugh. He stood up, "I'll just head back home then, see you later Sepherino."

Seph nodded and followed his guest out to the tether in the front yard.

Tied to one of the golden loops was a young orange sirca, ruffling his massive feathers. Its head twitched to face the two boys and Jamie walked straight up to it.

It stared down at him, its head raised above its body so it was at a good height, nearly two metres. After a few still moments, it twisted its wings to reveal hands that looked very much like its feet but lacking the fourth toe. It leaned down, the middle joints of its wings sticking up awkwardly as it's 'hands' lay splayed on the ground.

Jamie took hold of the bony ridge that ran around its neck like a collar and heaved himself up. He stood up, balancing carefully, and untied the leather from the golden post. He wrapped it loosely around the sirca's neck before sitting down.

He gave it a small kick on each side and it reared up, spreading its overgrown wings and took off after an awkward run-up.

Seph watched as Jamie disappeared into the sun.

Chess squirmed, trying to force blood through to his hands. No such luck.

He'd been caught by the guard. His hands were put through the bars and encased in wood, every digit separated from another. And the wood had been melded with the bars so he couldn't move. He didn't know how long he'd be like this.

That guard didn't make empty threats…