Valicar strained against the chains that held her captive, her frustration reaching a boiling point that was palpable to all around her. In her struggle, she resembled a wild animal desperate to break free. Mike, exuded an aura of primal rage, making Sophia acutely aware of his intense anger, burning like a roaring fire. His fury, stoked by his newfound demonic oath, surged through him, yearning to shatter the chains that bound him. However, with no audience to witness his outburst and draw strength from, his power fell short of overcoming the unyielding constraints that imprisoned them. Their hands were cruelly secured behind their backs, and their legs were immobilized, turning even the simplest tasks like going to the bathroom into a humiliating ordeal.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but chill the hell out, Mike," Sophia interjected, her voice laced with an attempt to soothe his anger.
"I fight for these people, and I even offered to save them, and they pull this shit! Let's make a fucking nuke right now and level these Fucking twigs!" Mike's rage surged uncontrollably, his temper even more unrestrained than usual. Sophia was aware of the situation, informed by Mike about the events leading to this point.
"You're making my anxiety worse, Mike. We didn't exactly have the best time the last time we were chained up," Sophia reminded him, the memory of the beating they had endured from the old bloods resurfacing. "But just like last time, Altheack will come and save us. So stop worrying."
"She could be fucking dead for all we know, Soph!" Mike's frustration surged as he once again bloodied their wrists against the unforgiving chains.
"They had the power to heal us after you went on that rampage, and we were in much worse shape then. I have no doubt she's alright by now," Sophia reassured him, her voice dripping with conviction.
"Then where the hell is she? I swear to god, if we have to squirm our way to that goddamn bucket one more time, I might as well join the green pigs outside this city's walls AFTER I TEAR THEM DOWN!" Mike's words dripped with sarcasm before exploding with anger, the bitter memory of the degrading experience they had both endured.
A violent tremor jolted the dungeon cell once again, its occupant was thrown off balance as the room rocked from the force of powerful earth magic. "That Bitch Gorlion and his lame-ass earthquakes again," Mike grumbled in annoyance as the cell shook for the third time that day, forcing Valicar's face to collide with the cold, unforgiving stone floor.
"Ow!" Sophia winced in pain, the sensation all too familiar by now. "Shit, the worst part is trying to get comfortable again. They must be getting desperate up there if he keeps using those spells," Sophia complained as the tremors subsided, her voice laced with irritation. Gradually, they managed to adjust their positions, sitting up against the cell wall once more.
"Remind me, Mike, what the hell did you do to get us locked up in here? I mean, Demonic magic is taboo, but usually, they overlook it," Sophia probed the issue once more, taking advantage of the moments when Mike's temper wasn't raging.
"Like I said last time, I had a demonic sword in one hand and a holy sword in the other. And no, they know I'm not a templar, that jackass Gorlion called us by name," Mike responded, his anger subsiding to a simmer, albeit just barely.
"Did you ever figure out the abilities of those swords, particularly the demonic one?" Sophia inquired, knowing that each curse usually had a set of conditions and costs. For instance, werewolves reached their peak power under a full moon, and curses often extracted a toll either from their bearer or their victims. If nothing had been lost, then it was likely something had been taken, probably from the people they had killed—most likely slaughtered by Mike, given his track record. Sophia had no real idea how many people he had killed.
"Well, there was this weird-ass feeling. Whenever I swung the dark sword, I felt this surge of power, not just from the crowd, but from the flesh I was cutting through. It's like I was taking a piece of them into myself through the blade, I could of drunk that power in like one of our benders but, well never mind," Mike contemplated, reflecting on the newfound power he had absorbed.
"That sounds like necromancy, Mike... fuck," Sophia's response held a note of concern and realization. The gravity of their predicament sank in—they were locked up for a crime she was very much involved in. The recent delve into necromancy was still relatively new to them, and the book she had in her bag was far from exculpatory evidence. Fortunately, their magical bag was designed in a way that only they could access its contents, for the most part.
"Well, it's not like we wouldn't have faced this eventually," Mike quipped, his anger giving way to a recognition it was his fault.
"Um, I'm not going to resort to nuking anyone, but... it seems we might have to fight our way out," Sophia admitted, her resolve growing as she made earnest attempts to use magic to escape. Her efforts were hampered by a gag that silenced her incantations, and her bound hands prevented her from making any intricate movements to break free from the chains.
As time passed, Sophia's attempts to break free were met with frustration; the chains refused to yield to her mere cantrips. Mike's initial rage seemed to morph into a cold and dangerous anger. After a while, a group of guards arrived and efficiently unbound their legs, guiding them through the winding corridors. Though their hands remained restricted and their mouth gagged, a calculating thought began to form in Mike's mind. He conveyed his plan to Sophia with a subdued intensity, "I can take these guards with some precise kicks to their skulls. But, if they're taking us to an audience, that could work even better." The look in his eyes hinted at a darker intent.
"We're trying to get allies, Mike! It's Not like I'm an actual necromancer! We can't use them if they're all dead!" Sophia's internal voice rang with annoyance.
"Fine," Mike responded, a note of determination in his voice, "I'll just make a point. But it's me that's gonna get us out of these chains, not you, not Altheack... Me and me alone."
As the guards led them forward, Mike's heightened senses, fueled by his demonic oath, allowed him to sense the fear emanating from them. The fear of the guards around him seemed to invigorate him, granting an unusual strength. He could now distinctly feel their life force, a concept that Sophia had explained earlier – the essence of their souls. And in this moment, their souls were radiating terror, a palpable sensation that added to Mike's newfound power.
They were led into a massive lords' hall, the grandeur of it almost overwhelming. The room was adorned with ornate woodwork, and intricate carvings of elves engaged in epic battles, depicting scenes of ancient warfare. Elaborate moving wooden sculptures lined the walls, illustrating legendary archmages from days of yore, locked in combat with fearsome creatures from all corners of the world. The attention to detail in the craftsmanship was awe-inspiring, a testament to the artistic skill and dedication of the elven craftsmen.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
As they entered, the atmosphere was charged with a mixture of curiosity, fear, and awe. All of which Mike could feel fueling the power of his oath with every emotion he inspired. There was also the reality of their souls, which he could now see plain as day, a newfound sense that he reveled in. The news of Valicar's feats had spread like wildfire through every corner of the city. Those who had witnessed her fight and the slaughter she had unleashed carried a range of opinions. Some regarded her as a hero, a savior capable of delivering them from the impending orc threat. Others saw her as a harbinger of death, a potential monster of the undead, or even the next mage to fall to the forbidden powers that had plagued the world before Necromancy was banned. However, her use of necromancy against the orcs was seen by many as just retribution, a reckoning deserved by the orc hordes that had laid waste to so many.
The immense crowd that had gathered in the lords' hall seemed to buzz with energy, the anticipation of witnessing the hero or villain of the day in person palpable. The story had been woven into the very fabric of the city, painting Valicar as a symbol of hope and death, depending on who you asked. For some, she was a beacon of salvation, while for others, she was a figure of fear and uncertainty.
At the heart of this grand assembly, seated upon a magnificent throne crafted with plant-based magic, was Chieftain Qunaria. The throne itself seemed to be a living creation, intertwining natural elements in a breathtaking display of elven magic. Beside her stood Altheack, a mixture of concern and relief evident in her expression. Her eyes betrayed her desire to aid and free Sophia and Mike from their unjust bonds. Yet, she was also there beside her mother, the very woman who had once cast her aside. The complexity of her emotions was written across her face – a blend of resentment, longing, and a tentative reconnection. This new revelation hit Sophia and Mike with a pang of sadness, understanding the tangled web of emotions Altheack must be grappling with.
Guided to the center of the room, Sophia and Mike found themselves next to none other than Gorlion. His presence brought a mix of emotions – gratitude for his attempt to help, frustration at their current predicament, and uncertainty about his true intentions. As they stood there, the tension in the room palpable, Gorlion leaned in and whispered to Valicar, his words a promise of potential liberation, "I'm going to remove your gag so you can speak, but let's not do anything rash. Together, we can find a way to get you out of here, my lady."
"Fuck you, cunt! Get these chains off me before I—" Valicar's furious words were abruptly silenced as Sophia intervened, taking control and trying to smooth over the situation. "Cough, cough, sorry, what was that?" Sophia tried to play it off, caught off guard even by Mike's fury. Gorlion winced at the outburst. Chieftain Qunaria's expression initially held anger, but it softened, if only slightly, as Altheack leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Mike's senses caught fragments of their conversation: "As I told you" and "Unwell." It was evident that Altheack was defending Valicar's sudden outburst.
"Valicar, my daughter has shared much with me about you," Chieftain Qunaria's voice resounded, breaking through the palpable tension, and capturing the focus of the agitated assembly. "I've also been acquainted with the stories of your Uncel Valicar, the hero of bygone years, and now I find myself learning about his niece. If I'm not mistaken, your purpose aligns with his – the desire to thwart the empire and church. However, it appears that your journey is mirroring his in terms of its lack of success."
She continued, "Your lineage has been captured and incarcerated within the capital, placed under the vigilant gaze of the most influential figure in the world – the Northern Pillar, a name etched in history for over a millennium. Once hailed a hero by those who still remember, his influence was potent, though his benevolence ceased at the empire's fringes. When the world confronted the very magic you stand accused of wielding, it was he who stepped in, safeguarding us all from its peril. For necromancy stands as the singular issue that galvanized the world in unity, a force against which even the boundaries between nations dissolved. Yet here stands before us, a practitioner of that very power, not against an omnipotent tyrant, but directed at the vulnerable orc, extinguishing their souls from the cycle of rebirth – an act deemed sacrilegious beyond redemption. Regardless of the path – learning or oaths – the potency of the transgression remains unchanged. Thus, I pose to you this inquiry: why should we not only decree your death but also, what reason is there for us to align with your cause?"
"She just roasted you," Mike quipped, as Sophia's mind raced as she sought desperately for words to counter the damning allegations that surrounded them. Drawing on her years of political experience in Helm Hold, she focused on a single point of contention and marshaled her thoughts to craft a response.
"You're grievously mistaken," Sophia's voice reverberated with unwavering conviction, "The Northern Pillar, the very figure you allude to, poses an imminent threat that must not be underestimated. Even though your kind enjoys a lifespan beyond many others, the day the boundary between the divine and the unholy is breached, no one will be spared from the ensuing catastrophe. His insatiable ambition drives him to seek godhood, a goal he believes he can achieve by obliterating the barrier that segregates the realms. He's driven by an insidious hunger for transcendence, a hunger that overshadows his concern for the well-being of this world. His ruthless determination propels him, heedless of the lives he extinguishes to forge his path to the next realm. The reason his sinister influence hasn't extended to other continents is plain: the very vault harboring these arcane secrets is concealed within the confines of his domain!"
But before Sophia could fully elaborate on her point, Chieftain Qunaria interjected, her tone cutting through the air with a mixture of authority and skepticism. “Yet, here you are wielding both holy and demonic magic – the two known catalysts for the Veil's ominous erosion. Each time you harness this power, you inadvertently inflict another fracture upon the fragile boundary. It is as though you are part of an adventuring party that acts heedless of the Veil's sanctity or the revered teachings,” the Chieftain's words deftly dismantled Sophia's argument, leaving her momentarily at a loss.
As Chieftain Qunaria's words resonated, the weight of the argument hung heavily in the air. "She just roasted you again, and now it's my turn," Mike's internal voice sounded, a hint of humor beneath his words. Valicar, seizing the attention of the crowd, channeled the power emanating from their intense gaze and snapped her chains effortlessly. The situation's gravity wasn't lost on Gorlion, whose expression turned more resolute, likely realizing he might be the first line of defense, though he was still in the dark about the mechanics of Valicar's oath.
"I'm done with this conversation," Mike's voice held a menacing edge as he made his stance clear. However, in that crucial moment, before the situation could spiral further, Sophia intervened with a desperate act of magic. "Gormai Hys Nalova Bavask!" The incantation reverberated through the air changing the winds of fate, and the blare of alarm horns echoed. The orchestrated chaos signaled that the orcs had launched a full-scale assault.
The Chieftain's gaze shifted to both Gorlion and Valicar. "Then go, demonstrate your intentions through action, rather than words alone. Save our city without resorting to necromancy, demonic, or holy magic," her voice carried an air of challenge. With a roll of his eyes at the Chieftain's request, Mike left the room, his intention clear.
Sophia spoke up with urgency, "I'll provide any spell you need, Mike. I promise, this time we won't fail. You can count on my power, at least until our alliance is formed." Her plea carried a mixture of determination and hope. As Gorlion escorted them to the walls, he shared his concerns. "My attacks are losing their efficacy against the orcs; they've adapted. So, I, the Indomitable Hero of the East, am relying on you to honor your promise, Valicar."
As they left the chamber behind, both Mike and Sophia glanced back one last time. Altheack's torn presence, standing beside her mother, spoke of her internal conflict. The desire to aid her friend battled but held by her duty to the woman who had given her life. In this moment, empathy for Altheack's predicament flickered within both Mike and Sophia.
"Deal," Mike's voice held a begrudging agreement, "but I'm in charge, Soph. Just like that night at Helm Hold." Reluctantly, Sophia accepted the terms, recognizing the necessity of the arrangement for the sake of the Elves and their alliance.