The chill of the stone floor seeped through Elden's thin prison garments, a constant reminder of his dire circumstances.

He sat cross-legged in the center of his cell, eyes closed, fingers tracing the intricate patterns on the pendant his father had given him. The Wellspring binders on his wrists felt like lead weights, cutting him off from the familiar flow of elemental and memory magic.

Yet, as his fingers brushed against the cool metal of the pendant, Elden felt... something. A whisper of power, faint but undeniable. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Curiosity overcoming caution, Elden reached for that mysterious energy. To his surprise, it responded eagerly, flooding through him despite the Wellspring binders. The world around him shifted, colors becoming more vivid, the very air seeming to thicken.

A bead of sweat formed on the guard's forehead outside his cell, and Elden watched in stunned fascination as it began to fall. But instead of plummeting to the ground, it inched downward as though moving through molasses.

The guard's movements, too, slowed to a torturous crawl. Elden could see every subtle twitch of muscle, every gradual blink of an eye, as if each motion was a drawn-out struggle against an invisible force.

Heart pounding, Elden rose from his spot on the cold stone floor, hyper-aware of his own movements amid the surreal slowness. He moved toward the cell door, the lock mechanism becoming his sole focus. This might be his only chance.

As Elden reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he slid them through the bars to snatch the keys from the guard’s belt, a sharp pang shot through his chest. His Wellspring, strained by the overwhelming demand of holding time in stasis, pulsed erratically, like a dam on the verge of bursting.

Sweat dotted his brow as he fumbled with the keys, his movements increasingly frantic. The metal cuffs resisted at first, but with a final, desperate twist, he unlocked them. The binders fell away, and the energy within him surged, no longer hindered—but it was far from stable.

Magic poured into him like a flood, barely enough to sustain the time freeze for much longer. Elden winced as the strain grew unbearable, the edges of his vision blurring. With a surge of urgency, he began to weave the memory spell. Golden light flickered from his fingertips, the patterns forming with precision born of desperation.

The guards remained in their slow-motion state, faces contorted with the confusion that hadn’t yet fully registered. Elden could feel the threads of time fraying around him, the delicate balance teetering on the brink of collapse. His breath came in ragged gasps as he forced the spell to completion, the final weave slipping from his control just as his Wellspring buckled.

Time snapped back into place with a violent crack. The keys slipped from his numb fingers, clattering against the stone floor with a noise that seemed unnaturally loud. Elden barely managed to stagger back to his cot, his vision swimming. But the spell had done its work.

The guards blinked rapidly, their eyes clouded with confusion as the effects of the memory manipulation took hold. Elden watched them, a deep ache settling in his chest—not just from the exertion but from the weight of what he had done.

"I'm sorry," Elden whispered, though the words felt hollow. He had sworn never to use memory magic on unwilling subjects. But survival had a way of eroding principles, and now, with his Wellspring still quivering from the strain, he couldn’t help but wonder what other lines he might have to cross before this was over.

The first guard shook his head, his brow furrowing. "What... where am I?" he muttered, his voice thick with bewilderment.

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Elden seized the moment. "You were just telling me about the secret passage," he said smoothly, infusing his words with subtle tendrils of memory magic. "The one High Remembrancer Edward showed you in case of emergencies."

The guard's eyes widened in recognition of a memory that had never existed. "Of course, Master Vortis! How could I forget? It's just down the hall, behind the tapestry of the Founding."

"Thank you," Elden said, his voice grim. "Now sleep. When you wake, you'll remember nothing of this."

As the guards slumped to the ground, Elden turned and raced down the corridor.

He paused at the tapestry, marveling at how easily the false memory had taken hold. But there was no time to dwell on it. He slipped behind the heavy fabric, finding a narrow passageway beyond.

The rough stone walls seemed to close in around him, shadows dancing in the flickering torchlight.

As he navigated the dark, twisting path, Elden's thoughts turned to his father. He pulled out the pendant, and suddenly, it sprang open. A memory projection of Edward Vortis appeared, his face lined with worry.

"Elden, my son," the projection spoke urgently. "If you're seeing this, then my worst fears have come to pass. There are forces at work beyond anything we imagined. Seek out Soulsinger in Empyrea. She holds the key to unraveling this conspiracy. Trust no one, especially not Mnem-"

The message cut off abruptly as shouts echoed through the passageway. Behind him, the shouts of his pursuers grew louder.

Ahead, Elden could see a faint glimmer of moonlight. Freedom was so close he could almost taste it, the promise of open sky tantalizing after days in a cramped cell.

Elden burst out of the secret passage into a moonlit courtyard, the cool night air a shock against his sweat-slicked skin. Before he could catch his breath, a blast of purple energy sizzled past his ear, close enough that he could feel the heat of it on his cheek. The acrid scent of ancient fog filled the air as Elden spun to face his pursuers.

Mnemion stood at the head of a group of elite Remembrancers, his face contorted with fury. The moonlight cast harsh shadows across his features, making him look more like a vengeful specter than a man. The Remembrancers fanned out behind him, their hands glowing with prepared spells, eyes gleaming with a unnatural light.

"Seize him!" Mnemion roared, his voice carrying an undercurrent of power that seemed to shake the very stones beneath their feet. "The murderer must not escape!"

Time was running out. Elden's hands moved in a blur, weaving a complex spell born of desperation and raw talent. Earth and air magic combined with memory strands in ways that defied conventional understanding. The very ground beneath their feet seemed to come alive, dust and debris swirling up to form a vortex of confusion.

Through the chaos, Elden could see the Remembrancers stumbling, their prepared spells going wild as they fought against his magical storm. But Mnemion stood firm, his eyes locked on Elden with an intensity that sent chills down his spine. This was a man who would not be easily deterred.

Elden knew he had only moments before Mnemion broke through his defenses. Once more, he reached for the mysterious energy within him, willing the world to slow. The response was immediate and overwhelming. The shouts of the Remembrancers stretched into unintelligible groans, their movements becoming glacial. Even Mnemion seemed to move as if wading through deep water, his face frozen in a mask of rage.

Taking advantage of the stillness, Elden sprinted for the courtyard wall. Each step felt like an eternity, the strain of maintaining the temporal distortion threatening to tear him apart. Freedom was inches away.

As his fingers brushed the top of the wall, the temporal magic began to slip away. Time snapped back with a force that nearly knocked him off balance. Behind him, Mnemion’s voice, filled with fury, seemed to shake the very air:

"No! You will not escape justice, Elden Vortis!"

With one final, desperate surge of strength, Elden vaulted over the wall. He landed hard on the other side, the impact jarring every bone in his body. But he was free. As he stumbled to his feet and began to run, Mnemion’s curses rang in his ears, a furious counterpoint to the wild beating of his heart.

The streets of Mnemosyne stretched out before him, a labyrinth of shadows and moonlight. Elden ran, each step taking him further from the life he had known.

With the sounds of pursuit fading behind him, Elden Vortis disappeared into the night, a fugitive from the very institution he had once called home.