A memory of a story from long ago by AdmirableMonster  

Of Snares Eluded

With thanks to Elrond's Library for the prompt: "Of snares eluded, broken traps, / The prison opening, the chain that snaps."

The thrall flees.  She has been clever, as clever as the fox whose stories her father told her.  The story goes that no one escapes, but she knows that the stories of that dark fortress often lie.  Even if they do not, perhaps she will be the first.  She has the fragment of her mother’s blanket tucked beneath her clothes, securely at her chest.  Perhaps it will make her feet as light as the fingers of the goddess-mother who wove it.  Perhaps it will make her form as invisible as the sleepy god of dreams whose illicit child it cradled.