"How could those heretics do such a thing?" Asked a paladin wearing golden armor who glistened under the moonlight.
He cradled a young boy whose life was slowly dwindling. The light in the boy's eyes were dim but carried a faint trace of life. A sign so minuscule that it would have been easily missed if it weren't for their divine bodies, blessed by the radiance of their God. As the other paladins remained silent, their Captain furiously glared at the dead cultists by the doorway.
From the side, a soft metallic clink rattled against the cold stone floors, catching the attention of the paladins. Their weapons were drawn as they surrounded their Captain and gazed at the figures lurking in the shadows. One by one, they drew closer from the darkness of their cells and reached the cold steer bars that restricted their freedom.
With a radiant light enveloping their equipment, one of the paladins worriedly asked, "Are these prisoners or more of those things?"
A hint of worry flickered through them. On their way here, an endless swarm of undead beings ambushed them from all directions. The stench of rotting flesh lingered throughout the entire underground complex as the cultists conducted their twisted experiments on the living. The light that illuminated the confinements revealed countless people with shackles, stripping them of their freedom to use aura and tattered clothing. Their thin frames and once pristine skin had numerous scars like cracks within a marble sculpture.
The sheer number of prisoners caught the paladins off guard. Compared to the other barren holding cells within the complex, nearly every cell had at least one person.
One paladin asked, "What is this place?"
"Can't you tell by looking?" One prisoner bitterly laughed and said, "This place is just a torture chamber where those sick bastards take out their frustrations."
The prisoners stared at the moonlight that shined upon the young boy with pity. Their memories were vivid as they recalled the stubbornness of the child before them. With a sense of unity filling their hearts as each night they endured the beatings and strengthened their resolve.
The Captain examined the wounds on the boy's body. From the deep blade marks etched into his skin that had been repeatedly healed over, it was clear that they used healing potions to forcefully keep him alive.
The Captain asked, "Who is this boy, and why did they go to such lengths to torture him?"
"No one knows who he is. All we know is that the poor bastard was here before all of us." A prisoner answered while tightly clenching the rusty bars and said, "Hell, I'm not sure if it's a blessing or a curse for him to survive what they did to him."
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
One paladin wielding a mace glanced at the injured boy and asked, "What should we do? We can heal him physically…but I fear that the mental strain inflicted on him will be too much."
"We can't look after him… we're in the process of carrying out God's will. Taking him with us will only bring more danger and trauma," Another paladin said.
"Well, we can't just leave him! He'll surely die on his own," Another paladin yelled.
The paladins argued back and forth but soon stopped as their Captain raised their hand. They all turned toward their Captain, eagerly waiting for an answer.
"We'll block his memories with incantations and give him a fresh set of clothes. A child like him won't last long in the current war-torn Holy Empire… we'll send him to the neighboring kingdom with a blessing of warmth." The Captain's firm answer divided the group in two.
"We can't just leave him alone! He's just a child. If we wipe his memories, then how will he survive!" The paladin wielding the mace slammed it against the wall, sending debris flying everywhere.
"We have no other choice! Look around you; each day, more of our people suffer under the corruption of those demonic bastards!" The Captain declared angrily, responding to the objections raised by the other paladins. "The more time we waste, the more lives that will be lost!"
"I'll go with him and ensure he reaches the town," One paladin suggested.
"I can't allow that. We need to muster every paladin on the front line." The Captain shook his head and said, "Traveling on horseback to the nearest town would take several days, and losing one paladin on a mere escort mission would greatly diminish our combat strength."
"Let us do it!" A prisoner cried out, and soon, the other prisoners followed. "We'll take him to Cronia, the coastal town in the Kingdom of Everheart."
The prisoners' frantic voices made the paladins stare at them. With a hint of curiosity, the Captain asked, "Why would you go to such lengths for someone you don't know?"
"Just think of it as repaying a debt." An old voice drew the attention of the other prisoners. "That child is why most of us are still alive, so this is the least we can do."
The paladins all watched as the prisoners stood tall before them, showing a resilience that shouldn't be possible with their current physiques. The dried blood and bloody wounds that would have made the most veteran soldier cry out in pain were nothing to these prisoners. Their fists banged on the bars as if screaming for a chance of redemption, a chance to repay the favor they were given.
Seeing this, the Captain nodded with satisfaction and stared at the other paladins. "Free these prisoners. I want them all healed and provided several days' worth of food. We'll grant each one a blessing of warmth; from there, it is up to them."
"As you command," the paladins responded while breaking open the iron bars of each cell. One by one, the prisoners walked out of their cells and into the light. It felt like ages since the last time they were free, and the first time they could finally right a wrong.