by Eden Redd
“Master Damon wants you alive but he didn’t say I couldn’t break your bones,” Freya leered.
Gwen backed up a few more steps, her shield fading from sight. The witch knew she couldn’t maintain her shield for long. Keeping a healthy distance, she eyed the short shadow mage.
“Damon told me to be careful around you but I don’t see why? Ink witches don’t study the elements. Your magic is mostly body manipulation. I bet that shield was sapping your mana. Your familiar is too big to fit in the stairwell. You don’t have the magical training to take me on,” Freya sneered.
Gwen took a few more steps backwards, “I have a few tricks left.”
Freya eyed the witch and took a menacing step up, “I think your all talk.”
The witch formed an orb in her hand, “I doubt I can reason with you.”
Freya shook her head but never took her eyes off the witch.
Gwen knew she was running out of options. The shadow mage was correct on her assumptions but the witch didn’t let on. Mentally going over her spells, she knew she would have to do something drastic. If not, her friends would all be captured. Gwen mentally called up an ability she never wanted to use. Knowing she could only do it once, it was often saved for dire circumstances. However, if she didn’t send up that flare then the quest would be lost.
“I know all about you and Trystan. When this is over, you will never see him again. I promise,” Freya laughed.
Gwen’s eyes turned into thin slits. Whispering a word, the witch turned and ran up the stairs. Freya gave chase, smiling evilly and readying her own spells when mist flowed from her inner thighs. Glancing down, the mist rolled to her sides. Loc the dark elf and Cyn the busty ghost appeared at their mistress’s sides.
“What are you doing?” Freya shouted as she still gave chase.
Loc moved with wide eyes, his whip unfurling in his hand. Cyn reached over and touched Freya’s shoulder, stopping her advance. The dark elf snapped his whip around Freya’s neck and pulled. Cyn pushed hard into her mistress. Freya bended her legs and launched herself backwards onto the floor landing. Loc pulled with his whip to keep her off balance while Cyn floated down the stairs.
“We cannot control ourselves!” Loc grunted as if he was trying to stop himself.
“We must protect our creator,” Cyn said sadly, as she blocked Freya’s path.
Freya’s brow turned furious as she spun, loosening the whip around her neck. Hammer spinning out, it struck Cyn in the arm. The hammer made of shadows caused the ghost to fly into a wall and disappear through it. Loc leaped into the air, coming down attempting to strike his mistress. Freya growled as she swung her hammer into his leg, knocking him off his feet and to the floor.
Gwen reached the top and burst through the roof door. The orb still in her hand turned blue. Running out onto the roof, the witch reached the middle of it. With hand pointed to the sky, the orb blasted upwards. The orb grew bigger and bigger until it was high up. Exploding into blue fireworks, the witch stared as the night sky lit up.
The roof door slammed open and Freya stalked out. Gwen turned to the shadow mage as she stepped closer, hefting the black oversized hammer in her hands.
“Nice trick. Too bad my own familiars were never strong enough to take me on,” Glancing up at the blue fireworks, Freya turned her eyes back to Gwen, “All that just to get here and warn your friends? Pathetic. You should have flown off while you had the chance.”
Gwen tipped her hat and smiled, “I’m not leaving and neither are you. Not yet.”
Freya’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mea….,” Freya screamed as thousands of volts surged through her body.
Body smoking, the shadow mage’s shoulders slumped and she fell to the roof floor. Sord barely stood behind her, eyes weak but a small smirk on his lips. A second later, he fell next to the unconscious shadow mage.
Gwen rushed to his side. Falling to her knees, she put glowing hands to his body. Blood stopped flowing and wounds started to close. The orc let out a sigh of relief as energy returned to his muscles.
“The others are warned. We have to get out of here,” Sord said as he tried to sit up.
Gwen shook her head, “You can go. I’m not leaving Trystan and Hart behind.”
Sord smirked again, “You are honorable. You would have made a fine orc. I will not leave your side until they are safe.”
“Thank you,” Gwen smiled.
The witch looked up at the fading fireworks and hoped everyone saw the message. Helping Sord to his feet, the orc and the witch moved to the side of the roof. Shadows moved and lengthened from dark corners. Gwen and Sord turned to see a dozen shadow mages appear out of the inky darkness. Gwen prepared light spells while Sord raised his armored fists. They gave each other a reassuring glance as the mages moved in, whispering arcane words and hands pointed.
***
Reeko looked up from the street as a blue light lit up the night sky. Dark thoughts flooded his mind. The goblin disguised as an orc took his hand off the chaos potion in his coat. Looking back and forth, he moved through the streets of Fallen York. Spotting Aznara, he moved to her just as she moved toward him. Reeko stepped into an alley and the red haired orc followed.
“That was the flare. Trystan and Hart were captured,” Aznara said in a hushed tone.
“If Hart could be taken down then they knew we were coming,” Reeko whispered as his gaze met Aznara’s’, “I’m not going to leave them.”
Aznara looked to the short orc, “Neither am I.”
“That makes three of us,” Shyla said as she entered the alley.
The short orc shuffled his feet, “We need a plan C. We are probably being hunted as we speak.”
“We better think of it fast. I can hear guards down the street coming in our direction,” Aznara grimaced.
Reeko looked to the stone buildings surrounding them, “I have an idea but you guys might not like it.”
“Tell us!” Aznara said impatiently.
“The walls are thick enough that I could make three compartments. They will be like standing coffins, one for each of us. I could seal us up in the walls so we will not be seen. I will create an air hole but even with that, the air will get stale and difficult to breath, not to mention that we will be standing for a long time. If I try to make a sealed room for us, I think they may find us. This way, we will be in the walls until the coast is clear.”
“And if they find us anyway?” Shyla looked to the short orc.
Reeko gave a faint smile, “Then we fight our way to the castle.”
“I’m in,” Aznara grinned.
Shyla was silent for a moment before nodding her head.
Reeko made several hand signals, his orc appearance shifting to his true goblin form. The stone wall next to them twisted and moved to form three square alcoves. Each of the three companions stepped in. With their heads out and a final nod, Reeko cast a second spell. The stone shifted around them, encasing and smoothing along the stone wall.
Guards and shadow mages poured through the streets. Several guards looked down the empty alleyway, scanning for a long moment before moving on down the streets.
***
Jenny looked up at the fading blue flare and let out a tired sigh. The green haired Lori stood next to her in a dark alley, an open manhole cover not far from them. The blonde busty orc rubbed her eyes before looking to the druid.
“The others will be coming this way but I’m pretty sure Damon’s people already know where we are,” Jenny’s shoulders sank lower.
“The behemoth worms are resisting. They don’t wish to speak with me. Damon could be interfering somehow,” Lori said with a downward glance.
“I will not abandon them,” Jenny said softly.
“Neither will I,” Lori agreed.
Jenny stood up straighter, “We will hide in the tunnels. If you cannot convince the worms to help us then I will.”
Lori’s eyes widened, “What are you going to do?”
Jenn
y crossed her arms under her breasts and shut her eyes, “Logic would dictate that every living thing has a weak spot to exploit. If you can translate, I’m sure I can find their weak spot.”
Lori eyed the blonde orc, “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”
“Desperate times…..” Jenny trailed off.
The sounds of clanging armor rang out in the distance.
Lori let out a deep sigh, “As long as you don’t hurt them, they are living creatures.”
Jenny kept her eyes shut, “I promise to try and not hurt them.”
The sounds of guards echoed closer.
“Let’s talk further in the tunnels,” Lori said and walked over to the open manhole.
The green haired orc jumped down. Jenny walked over, looking up at the night sky one last time. Shadows in the alleyway began to move. The librarian whispered a word and stepped into the manhole, the cover sliding into place behind her.
Mages appeared and stared at the manhole. Converging, they surrounded the round piece of thick metal. One mage bent down to take hold when something glowed. Purple runes appeared along the surface, forming into words. The mage gazed as the letters finished forming. Fear stabbed into the mage’s heart as the runes exploded. An invisible shockwave threw every shadow mage in the alley against the walls and into the street. Bodies slid to the ground, moaning and groaning as guards rushed to their location.
Jenny and Lori made their way down a dark tunnel. The librarian smiled as she activated magic rune after magic rune against tunnels walls. Jenny went over the probabilities in her head. She was sure she had an 86% percent chance of making every single mage chasing them lose the will to continue said chase. With that, they moved further into the darken tunnels, with a glimmer of hope in their hearts.
Sixteen
Darkness swirled as Trystan slowly blinked. Water dripped in the cold cell. Chains clamped around his wrists, midsection and legs held him flat against the unforgiving dungeon wall. A faint candlelight glowed outside of the cell and down a tunnel leading to it. The mage moved his arms and legs but the restraints held him in place. A leather collar was fastened to his neck, the faint glow of runes barely keeping the darkness at bay.
The mage mentally checked himself. He could feel Sylk and Kira on his skin but that was all. He tried to speak to them but they did not stir. It was like a great chasm separated master and familiars. The mage turned his head to the dripping water. Moving his hands and whispering arcane words, he tried to control the water so it would break the chains. With the incantation finished, Trystan waited for the unmistakable connection of mage to element. Instead, nothing happened.
Trystan let out a sigh, a throbbing pain blooming in his head. With no spells and no familiars to call upon, the mage hung from the chilly stone wall, defeat quickly clouding his mind.
“I am such a fool,” Trystan said aloud to no one.
The mage had no idea what time of day or night it was. He could have been out for hours or days. Setting his mind to escape, he took in his surroundings as best he could in the dim light. The cell was barren except for the chains holding him to the wall. Iron bars stabbed into the cell entrance stone. Water continued to drip but the sound echoed off walls, he couldn’t pinpoint the source. Flexing fingers, he tried to cast another spell. There wasn’t even a fizzle after each incantation.
Firming up, he pulled at the chains. The metal links clanked but held fast. Relaxing, the young mage leaned his head against the wall and pondered. Despair floated into his mind as he tried to keep it together. Alone and in the dark, he wondered about his short career as a mage. Thoughts turned to Nia, Gwen and all of his friends. Trystan let out a sigh, knowing he let them down.
Uneven time passed. Trystan listened to the dripping water and each drop seemed to get louder and louder. Despair turned into angry rage. The mage rattled and pulled at the chains, making as big as a ruckus as he could. No one came to his thrashing. The mage slumped in his chains, rethinking his captivity. Losing his head was no longer an option. The mage listened intently while moving his arms, testing the chains further. He noticed he could just barely reach the collar on his neck. Taking that as a good sign, he contorted his body and craned his neck to his chained hand. Fingers touching the collar, he ran them over the runes along the leather. When his fingers managed to curl over the edge, he pulled at the collar. Pain bloomed slightly. The more he pulled, the greater the pain. The mage let out a torturous grunt as the pain grew thicker and he let go.
Panting, he reached over and tried again. Tugging at the collar, pain welled up. Trystan braced himself and pulled as hard as he could. The collar did not give way. The pain spiked to levels the mage never felt before. He let go and huffed. The buckle to the collar was at the back of his neck. The mage thought that maybe he could work through the pain as he tried to unbuckle it. It would require him to contort his body and work the buckle while enduring incredible pain but it was the only plan he had at the moment.
Taking in a deep breath, the mage went over his mental exercises he learned from Gwen. Thoughts of her helped focus his mind as he prepared himself. When his heartbeat was even, the mage took in another relaxing breath before moving his body. He did not touch the collar but instead contorted his body so his fingers were close to the buckle. When he was in position, fingers took hold of the buckle but he did not attempt to open it yet. Muscles straining, the mage held himself in the odd position for a few moments, readying his mind for the mountain of pain to come.
With a mental calm, the mage grasped at the buckle and began pulling at it. Pain surged into Trystan like a tsunami. Jaw clenching, the mage tried to push the pain into its own little box as his fingers pulled at the strap and tried to work the metal prong. Torturous pain rose higher and higher the more Trystan worked to move the prong out. The struggle and torment was blinding. The mage made a singular purpose to remove the collar at all costs. Ignoring the mountain of anguish pressing down on him, the young mage continued to pull at the strap with fingers while trying to slip the prong out with his thumb.
Trystan grunted and soon that turned into screams. The pain blinded his logic as he tried to funnel it into one place and reach his objective. Nothing else mattered, not even his life as he pushed beyond his limits to remove the magical collar from his neck. Vision tilted as his movements stuttered and began to fail. Body reacting to the pain, it eased away from the odd position, anything to stop the torment. Trystan pushed on, ignoring his body and pain. With one final soul-crushing scream, the prong slipped out and the collar uncoiled.
The mage managed one insane moment of laughter as the collar fell from his neck and he passed out into darkness.
***
A dull ache caused Trystan’s eyes to flutter. Groaning, he lifted his head and looked down. In the dim light, the collar lay on the cell floor, runes glowing slightly. The pain fogged his senses as he tried to blink it away. The light down the hall grew brighter. The mage looked beyond his cell to see a robed figure with a lantern in his hand walking toward him. Panic gripped the mage as he tried to cast a water spell. Hands moving, the spell fizzled when he made a trembling hand signal. Calming his heart, he tried again. Mist rolled off his arm and chest. Sylk and Kira appeared but immediately fell to their knees, eyes weak and confused.
“Master…..” Sylk managed as if she woke from a long dream.
“Sylk, free me. Kira stop him!” Trystan commanded.
The robed figure reached the cell. With a wave of its hand, the cell unlocked and the door opened. Kira tried to stand up but her legs trembled and she stumbled forward. Sylk was on her feet and moving to her master. The robed figure stepped into the cell and reached out with one finger. Kira was about to spit green fire when the finger touched her forehead. Eyes crossing, the dragon woman slumped forward onto the stone floor. Sylk took hold of a chain and searched for the lock.
“Behind you!” Trystan shouted.
The robed figure touched Sylk’s head. The siren’s eyes
rolled into her head and she slumped to the floor. Trystan cast a water spell. From the darkness, a water bolt shot forward. The lone figure waved their hand and the water bolt flashed into a fine mist. Trystan moved his hands again to cast another spell. Sylk and Kira turned to mist and flowed back to their master’s skin. The figure scooped up the collar and before Trystan could get off another spell, the collar wrapped around his neck and buckled closed.
Trystan let out a defeated moan as his spell fizzled. He stared at the robed figure as it took hold of its hood and pulled it back. The mage looked to the man before him. He didn’t recognize the face. The man seemed normal with short black hair and pale skin. He had no features that popped out. If he was in a group of people, he would easily be lost to the crowd.
The figure gave a warm smile, “Hello Trystan Song.”
Trystan remained silent with a seething rage in his gaze.
“I apologize for stopping your escape. I actually wouldn’t be here if not for certain events.”
“Then free me. I will be on my way and you can be on yours,” Trystan growled.
“Normally I would do just that but I am here in an official capacity,” The man reached into his robes and pulled out a black book.
Trystan’s eyes widened in terror, “Keep that book away from me!”
The man continued with his warm smile, “Your name has come up recently within the Order. Tickle me astounded when the book appeared in my library, whispering for me to bring it to you. I knew you were captured but I had no idea the book wanted to be brought to you.”
Trystan turned his head but kept his eyes on the man, “Who are you? What is the Order?”
The man kept eye contact, “You’re going to learn about us sooner or later so I might as well tell you. My cohorts and I belong to the ancient Order of Nyght. We pledge ourselves to the teaching of the Libro Nocte. As for my name, I will tell you when next we meet.”
