Charles squinted, attempting to make out shapes in the dimly lit chamber, guided only by the soft luminescence emitted by the core stones of the young Elementlets. Working in such conditions was not easy, but the importance of the task kept him going.
It had been a curious turn of events. Despite possessing no inherent magic, Charles was chosen for this particular responsibility. The lack of his own magical energy meant he wouldn't interfere with the Elementlets' delicate energies. Moreover, his built physique made it easier for him to handle the heavy lifting. All of these factors made him, as Maze had deduced, the ideal person to assist Alec.
One by one Charles carefully moved the Elementlets in a semicircle around the book in the centre of the chamber. Trying to get them all as close to the warm energies leaking from its surface.
Alec's usually assured attitude seemed to waver as the day wore on. The Elementlets' unresponsiveness to even his touch, kin of their own, was unsettling him. Even Scarf's struggled with getting a response, only deepened their collective concern.
Time seemed to blur, hours merging into each other in the quiet, ambient glow of the chamber. Charles occasionally stretched his muscles, feeling the strain of the task. What bothered him, though, was the absence of the old man. Maze had promised to return in a few hours, yet there was no sign of him. Charles's mind raced with a myriad of questions and worries about what could've kept him so long. With each passing moment, unease began to creep into his heart.
Charles straightened.
A sudden clang of noise yanked him from his thoughts. The distinct sound of armoured boots on stone echoed from above, unmistakably from the King's bed chambers above. A quiet murmur of voices, some tense, others raised in agitation, filtered through the ceiling of the hidden chamber.
"Alec," Charles whispered urgently, "Can you feel who's up there?"
Alec closed his eyes, concentrating. Being of the earth, he could perceive the minutest vibrations and, in many ways, "listen" to the ground. After a few tense moments, his tiny crystalline eyes opened, his expression puzzled.
"It's... odd," Alec began, his voice hushed. "There are several guards. But there's also a man and a woman. The woman seems... agitated. She's shouting at the guards for some reason."
Charles frowned. The chamber above was restricted. Who could these loud intruders be, and what did they want? More importantly, where was Maze in all of this?
Charles's heart raced. Every instinct screamed at him to venture out, to see what was happening in the bedchambers above, but he knew the risks. The clatter of armoured boots and muffled conversations were clear indicators that they were not there for an idle conversation.
Holding a breath, he motioned for Alec to stay silent, pressing a finger to his lips. Their eyes met, reflecting shared concern. The Elementlets, normally a constant source of gentle glow, were eerily silent and dim. Even they somehow knew they couldn’t risk detection.
However, as moments stretched on, a sudden grinding noise echoed through the chamber. Charles's eyes widened in horror as he realized that one of the guards, perhaps by accident, had triggered a mechanism. Above, a thin crack appeared as the seal to the door budged.
"No," Charles whispered, swiftly moving to the small opening. He pressed his hands against the cold surface, trying to prevent it from opening further.
Although the guards seemed oblivious to the shift, the crack allowed sounds from above to travel. Moving cautiously, Charles tried to push the seal back into place, but just as he almost succeeded, the heavy boot of a guard halted its movement, trapping it open.
Shit.
Straining his ears, Charles caught fragments of an intense conversation. An authoritarian voice, unmistakably that of a woman, berated the guards. "You fools! The King spoke of treasures hidden here. I overheard him myself. Now find it!"
“We’ve searched everywhere,” a guard protested.
The woman screeched at him her words lost meaning in her rage.
Chills ran down Charles's spine. The implications were dire. It seemed that intruders were searching for the very treasures they were safeguarding.
A guard's voice, hesitant, echoed down, "And if we find anyone?"
Without a second's hesitation, the woman's voice cut through coldly, "Kill them, you idiot."
A cold shiver ran down his spine. Moments later, the distinct echo of fresh footsteps sounded in the room above.
Charles pressed himself against the walls of the chamber, straining his ears to catch every word. The thick stone muffled the sounds slightly, but the raised voices echoed down, painting a vivid picture.
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"Explain yourselves!" echoed a woman's voice. Charles recognized it immediately; it was Master Parlin, Ellie's beloved teacher who had visited Amber Manor on several occasions.
"We've been hearing disturbing rumours about what you two have been doing." It was Master Theodoric this time. His words, calm and steady yet unyielding.
There was a brief pause before a male voice, dripping with arrogance, responded. "We are merely restoring order to this chaotic city. The true protectors and benefactors of the royal line have taken their rightful place. You should be thanking us, not questioning us."
“Duke Norcas you can’t be serious?” Master Parlin stammered clearly shocked.
"My husband and I have only apprehended those who deserved it. Murderers. Oppressors," the Duchess voice was like honey laced with venom.
Master Theodoric's retort was swift and scathing. "From what I've seen and heard, the only murderers in this room are the two of you."
“How dare you!” the Duchess spat.
There was a tense silence, and Charles imagined the stare-down that must be occurring above him. He held his breath, hoping the situation wouldn't escalate.
A soft chuckle from Duke Norcas broke the silence. "The University always did have a flair for the dramatic. No matter. We will continue our mission. It would be wise for the two of you to not interfere."
Master Parlin's voice, strained with barely controlled anger, responded, "You may have control for now, but know this: The University stands against you.”
“Is that so?” the Duchess asked coldly. “Guards!”
⚔
Maze weaved deftly through the dimly lit streets, with Ellie shadowing him closely. The old man's methods for deceiving the guards seemed almost effortless. Whether it was his years of honed skill or the clever manipulation of his book, Ellie couldn't tell.
"Charles?" she whispered anxiously.
Maze cast her a reassuring glance. "The lad's got a good head on his shoulders. He'll keep out of trouble for a while. Besides, I doubt they'd ever find the chamber."
The city guards, more resembling oppressive soldiers than protectors, had enforced a curfew. As the duo navigated the streets under the shroud of night, they encountered mainly these soldiers, many of whom were dozing off rather than keeping watch.
Throughout the night, as they traversed different parts of the city, Ellie and Maze sought clues about the true nature of this sudden takeover. With every snippet of overheard conversation or observed interaction, their unease grew.
In the market district, a chilling discussion between a few soldiers caught their attention. Talk of "eradicating the undesirable sectors" sent a chill down their spines. Tonight, at least one area was destined to face this cruel fate.
Ellie's thoughts raced. Without the stabilizing presence of Lord Amber's troops, there was nothing to prevent a massacre.
"We have to help Karn and the others," Ellie pleaded.
Understanding the urgency and the stakes, Maze nodded.
The cold stone walls of Grimhold Bastion loomed ahead, their imposing presence made even more eerie by the remnants of night that were slowly giving way to the faint light of dawn. Maze and Ellie deftly navigated the maze-like corridors of the prison, their every step accompanied by a mix of hope and apprehension. Maze frequently touched his green book, drawing comfort from its familiar weight.
"Most of these cells are empty," Ellie observed, glancing into another barren chamber, its walls bearing the marks of time and countless tales of sorrow. "Could they have relocated the prisoners?"
Stopping in his tracks, Maze listened intently. "Grimhold Bastion has countless cells, many of which are hidden. Few have dared to explore its depths and lived to tell the tale."
Ellie nodded, biting her lip in concern. "Let's try the underground floors then. Perhaps Karn and the others are held there."
Descending a set of worn-out stone steps, they arrived at the entrance of the dungeons. The massive door, thick with iron bindings, stood imposingly before them. Maze pulled out his book, muttering a few words under his breath. There was a faint shimmer in the air before the lock clicked open, granting them access.
Inside, the air was damp and filled with an eerie silence. The torches along the walls flickered, casting ghostly shadows. As they ventured deeper, muffled sounds became audible — a blend of soft whispers and stifled cries. Their pace quickened, hope and anxiety coursing through them.
"Karn?" Ellie called out, her voice echoing slightly. "Are you here?"
They came upon a row of cells, each guarded by a heavy iron door. Maze approached the first, placing his ear against the cold metal. He heard a faint murmur and quickly chanted a spell from his book. The door swung open to reveal a group of desolate prisoners, eyes filled with a mix of surprise and relief.
But Karn was not among them.
As they continued searching, each opened cell revealed more imprisoned residents of the Amber District, but no sign of Karn or their other friends. The weight of despair began to sink in, but Ellie's determination remained unbroken.
"We have to keep searching, Maze," she insisted, her eyes shimmering with tears. "They're here somewhere. They have to be."
Maze nodded, his face grim. "Yes, we will. We won't leave until we've found them."
And with renewed determination, they pressed on, the depths of Grimhold Bastion.
Ellie's heart pounded as they approached the last cell on the underground floor. Maze's sharp intake of breath brought her gaze to the crumpled figure of a man in blue robes, looking more battered than any prisoner she'd seen.
"Is that... Master Waverly?" Ellie whispered, recognizing the renowned scholar. Distress clouded her vision, and she fought back tears. "What happened to him?"
Yet it was obvious. The evidence of the assault was clear. An arm twisted unnaturally, and his face bore a patchwork of blue and brown bruises. He had suffered a savage attack and had been left in the cell to meet a cruel end.
"We can't leave him," she said with fierce determination, her voice echoing slightly in the stone corridor.
Maze, without a word, rifled through the pages, intent on finding something to aid the injured scholar. "Ellie, support his head."
Gently, Ellie cradled the professor's head, her fingers brushing against his cold skin. "Stay with us," she murmured. She looked up at Maze. “Do you have the strength?”
The night had taken its toll on the old man. Between the unsuccessful attempt to heal Serin and the myriad of smaller events he had unleashed, he was looking rather tired.
The old storyteller nodded, yet his expression remained wary. With a deep breath, Maze began to murmur words, moving his fingers in intricate patterns above Master Waverly. The book shimmered, casting a silvery aura around the injured man. Slowly, the visible wounds on his face started to heal, the ugly bruises fading.
Exhausted from the event, Maze snapped the book shut, wiping sweat from his brow. "He's stable, but we need to get him out of here."
Gently, Ellie steadied Master Waverly as he stirred weakly. "We need to find Karn and the rest first.”
Maze sighed as he spoke, “it never gets any easier.”