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Chapter 173 – Twisted (1)

  Dusk arrived, dyeing the skies crimson and purple. Torches lit up the courtyard as the chaos in the fortress began to wind down. The student’s training ended, allowing them some much needed respite, while the soldiers headed for the mess hall.

  The noblemen headed to their rooms, to deal with their own affairs, while the high ranking honour guard’s tasks saw no end quite yet. There was still so much he had to do as well. The preparations for his father’s return were still underway. And even beyond that, the ambassador’s leave needed to be planned and prepared as well.

  “The patrols have found another group of cultists.” Captain Marr reported as they walked along the wide, well lit hallway leading to his chambers. “Unfortunately, they were unable to catch them. Again.” She clenched her fist. “I don’t understand how they do it, sire. They’re moving through the overgrowth at an incredible speed.”

  Midhir scowled. “They are.” This wasn’t the first time the cultists had managed to slip away unharmed against stacked odds. “There is no need for the patrols to chase them once they begin to escape. Have them conserve their strength. Our priority is to ensure a safe passage through the mountains.”

  Captain Marr’s lips formed a thin line as she nodded. “Understood. What about after the ambassador has safely passed through? Do you intend to let these cultists be?”

  Midhir furrowed his brows. “I do not,” he breathed out. “But it will be the Emperor’s decision then.” After all, he was only in command for three days. It was fine to prepare for the next few days, but it would be overstepping his authority if he tried to make any long term plans.

  A smile flashed across Captain Marr’s lips. “Indeed.” She muttered. Her gaze turned forward, then her steps slowed to a halt. “I should take my leave now, your highness.” She bowed, turned around and marched away.

  Midhir turned his gaze ahead, where three familiar faces were waiting, leaned against the wall.

  “Sorry for interrupting,” Willow awkwardly smiled.

  Alistair stepped away from the wall. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yeah,” Midhir sighed a breath of relief. “It’s been a busy day.” He led them to his chambers, inviting them inside. They settled on the couches in front of the hearth and enjoyed its warmth for a while.

  “Arwen?” Alistair finally spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence. “Now would be the time to mention that.”

  The young witch visibly flinched. Her gaze turned to the dancing flames as she clenched her fists, gripping her skirt’s cloth.

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  “What’s wrong?”

  “She said she noticed something weird with the flow of spiritual power.” Willow shook her head. “What did you call it? A surge?”

  Midhir’s ears perked up. A surge in spiritual power? “When?” He asked, forcing his voice to remain calm despite his racing heart. Had something happened to the Ring of Stone? It was a day’s journey away, yes, but even then its effect on the area shouldn’t have been weakened so much to allow a surge to happen.

  “It was just a little while before you came.” Arwen sheepishly replied. “I know you said the pylons on the wall cause the spiritual power to act odd here – dampening it and all but…” her voice faded. “I’ve only felt this kind of surge a few times before.”

  “Where did you feel it?” He asked with a scowl.

  Arwen closed her eyes for a moment. “Umm… I think its underground.”

  The dungeon.

  Midhir jumped on his feet. “I-“

  A loud boom interrupted him. The ground shook violently, knocking him off his feet and furniture off their shelves. The walls and ground let out terrifying creaks, and the sound of something cracking not too far away reached them.

  The dungeon. The surge was happening in the dungeon. He ignored Arwen’s terrified yelp, and Willow’s scream. “Alistair, Arwen, with me. Willow, find Captain Marr, make her send the honour guard to the dungeons.” He leapt back up on his feet and rushed to the door, only pausing to glance at them as he reached for the handle.

  Arwen’s face was pale as a sheet of paper. She gripped the armrests of her seat, not moving as smaller explosions continued to shake the ground. Willow moved slowly, almost as she was underwater.

  “Now!” He shouted, startling all three of them. Alistair was the first to snap out of his daze. He grabbed both the women’s arms, lifting them up to their feet. “We don’t have time for this.” He hissed.

  The air was dense with smoke and stone dust, permeated by screams and the sound of metal clashing against metal. Flames roared faintly in the distance. The once pristine hallways were now lined with cracks, both in the walls, and the floor.

  “Willow, find captain Marr. She must hurry to the dungeons.” He repeated once more time before breaking into a dash. The hallways echoed to his footsteps and to those of Arwen and Alistair, trying to keep up with him.

  Fighting had broken out in the lower floors. While small skirmishes seemed to happen everywhere, it was near impossible to tell friend from foe as it was the honour guard fighting the students and staff from Solus – or at least people dressed as that.

  Midhir’s steps slowed down as the ring of metal clashing against metal echoed in his ears. “Alistair!” he shouted, trying to overpower the sound of fighting. “Gather up all students, make them wait in the courtyard. Inform the Honour Guard of what you’re doing, tell them it’s by my command.”

  They needed to stop the fighting. While surely the attackers were simply dressed in Solus uniforms, eventually a real student was going to be mistaken for an imposter.

  “I’m a student too – why would they believe me?” Alistair pointed at him. “You’re the only one of us they’d trust.”

  Midhir clenched his fists. “I can’t.” He had to hurry to the dungeon. He needed to prevent the cultists from succeeding – from breaking out their leader. He brushed his hand against his earring and caught the object forming mid-air. He tossed it at Alistair. “Show this, and they will follow your commands.”

  He couldn’t let their leader escape. Not right after Instructor Caarda had begun unravelling that ancient resonance on that helmet.

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