Abby awoke to the chill of damp metal pressing against her skin. The dim light of dawn filtered through a small, barred window high above, casting long, eerie shadows across the cell. The scent of mildew mingled with the metallic tang of rust, making her nostrils twitch. She shivered, pulling the rough blanket tighter around her shoulders. he oppressive silence of the prison weighed heavily on her, broken intermittently by the distant clanging of metal and the faint, muffled murmurs of guards, reminding her of the constant, unseen watch.
As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Abby examined her surroundings. The cell was small and sparsely furnished—nothing more than a cot, a toilet, a narrow bench, and a bookshelf with various books. She took a deep breath, the air heavy with the scent of mildew and despair. Despite the circumstances, she felt a flicker of determination ignite within her. She may not have ever been in a prison before, but she was sure she would survive this too. She was also thinking how she had met two high profile kings in her journeys. And went on a date with one. Her face purpled as she thought of Alistair. But her thoughts moved on to someone else.
Abby's thoughts drifted to Nat, her closest confidant and friend. His presence, even in the shadows, brought a semblance of comfort. She knew he was likely nearby, perhaps exploring the prison’s nooks and crannies, ever the curious soul. She longed to hear his voice, to understand what had happened and why. As if on cue, a familiar voice reverberated through the metallic walls.
"Abby, are you awake?" Nat's voice was soft but clear.
"Yes, Nat," she replied, her voice steady. "Where are you?"
"Looking into the cell next to yours," he answered. "Are you alright?"
"I’m fine, just trying to make sense of everything. Nat, I need to know the truth. Did Erik really kill those leaders?"
There was a pause before Nat responded. He made his way to the front of her cell and walked through the bars. He chuckled, a sound that seemed to reverberate through the cold metal. 'Ain’t a prison cell I’ve met that I simply can’t walk out of. Now, to your question. Yes, Abby. It’s true. But you need to understand why.'"
"Tell me," she insisted, her curiosity mixed with a need for clarity. “He was my brother, it’s strange he didn’t talk to me about it.”
Nat’s voice took on a somber tone as he began to recount the events. "The leaders Erik took out were not just any leaders. They were the remnants of those who destroyed Iverst when he was young. Each one of them played a part in the massacre that took the town, townspeople, and his uncle from him."
Abby closed her eyes, imagining the devastation Erik must have felt. She listened intently as Nat continued.
"Let me tell you about the last one. It was a general, a man who had commanded the forces that burned Iverst to the ground. Erik and I tracked him for years, and finally, we found him."
The scene shifted in Abby’s mind as Nat’s voice narrated the past. She saw herself standing beside Erik and Nat on a moonlit night, the air thick with gentle fragrance of flowers and of pine.
The trio moved silently through the forest; their steps muffled by the thick underbrush, Abby simply hovering while the other two trudged. Erik, clad in the armor that Nat now wore, led the way with a determined look in his eyes. Nat followed closely, his senses alert and his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Erik whispered, glancing back at Nat.
Nat nodded. "Listen, Have I ever steered you wrong?”
“Well, the first time we met you sent that spider on me and led me to a cliff where I had to face it head on...” He stared coldly at Nat, while the narrator let out a nervous laugh.
“Erik, the general is here, hiding in the old fort just beyond the ridge. He is preforming his usual duties."
Erik's jaw tightened. "Good. Finally, this ends tonight. It’s been a long time coming."
As they approached the fort, a dilapidated structure partially overgrown with vines and moss. There were signs of repair and patches blatant in the walls even at this time of night. Scaffolding was visible scaling the right side of the building hinting at more repairs that could not be seen. Erik couldn’t help but break the tension with a dry remark. "You ever get tired of these late-night ambushes, Nat?"
Nat smirked. "Keeps things interesting. Besides, I thought you liked a good challenge."
Erik chuckled softly. "I prefer my challenges during daylight hours. But I suppose we can't always choose our battles."
Nat’s eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, come on. You love this. The thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of justice. Also, I think with these types of conditions you do choose your battles. Admit it."
Erik shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Maybe. But let's get this done quickly. I have plans that involve a warm bed and a good drink."
Nat grinned. "I’ll hold you to that. First round’s on you."
Erik looked at Nat incredulously, “ALL the rounds are on me! You drink like a fish and now I have that weird ‘unbeatable drinker’ moniker among the military.”
Nat merely shrugged, “What can I say, worldly poisons just can’t affect me.”
“Then why drink at all?”
Nat put his hand to his chin, his usual posture when thinking about something, “Honestly I couldn’t tell you.”
Erik sighed, “Sometimes Nat, you’re useless.”
They reached the edge of the fort, peering through the gaps in the old stone walls that had not been touched yet. The general sat by a campfire, unaware of the impending danger. Erik’s eyes narrowed, his grip on his sword tightening. This was the man responsible for the destruction of his home, the death of part of his family. The moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived. His heart raced within his chest, he felt that it would literally make its way out of there.
Nat moved into position, signaling to Erik that he was ready. Erik nodded, his face a mask of determination and controlled rage. With a silent command, they sprang into action.
Erik lunged forward, his blade slicing through the firelight with deadly precision. The general barely had time to raise his massive broadsword, its runes glowing faintly as it met Erik’s strike with a resounding clash. The general was a towering figure, his presence exuding a menacing calm. But Erik fought with a ferocity fueled by years of pain and loss, his strikes carrying the weight of countless battles and a lifetime of vengeance. The general’s face was a mask of calm determination, a stark contrast to the chaotic battle around them. Scars crisscrossed his weathered skin, each telling a story of countless battles fought and survived.
Their swords clashed, the metallic clang echoing through the night. The general's weapon, a massive broadsword with runes glowing faintly along its blade, met Erik's with a force that sent vibrations up his arm. The general's eyes, cold and calculating, showed no hint of fear or hesitation. He moved with the precision and power of a seasoned warrior, every strike deliberate and deadly.
Despite the general's formidable skill, Erik fought with a ferocity born of deep, unrelenting pain and loss. Each movement was a testament to his relentless pursuit of justice, his strikes imbued with the fury of a man who had seen his world torn apart. His movements were quick and relentless, his strikes driven by a burning need for vengeance. The general parried and countered with expert timing, but Erik's sheer willpower and determination pushed him forward.
As they battled, the firelight cast eerie shadows on the general's armor, the dark metal gleaming with each movement. The air was thick with tension, the clash of their swords a symphony of conflict and resolve. Erik's fury and the general's cold precision made for a deadly dance, each man pushing the other to the limits of their endurance.
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As the battle raged, Nat circled around, taking out the general’s guards and troops with swift, precise strikes when they stirred from their slumber. The fort was soon a scene of controlled chaos, the sounds of battle filling the air. Erik and the general exchanged blows, their movements a deadly dance of skill and power. While none of the generals troop stirred from sleep.
"You always looking out for those not part of your plan," Nat called out, ducking into an alcove with more sleeping soldiers.
Erik parried a strike and glanced at Nat. "Just letting those not involved keep it that way, old friend."
The general Erik was fighting was confused and it showed on his aged face, “I know not who you are assailant, who is not involved? How am I an old friend?”
Nat laughed, his voice light despite the intensity of the fight. "Confusing your target, good one Erik. But let’s wrap this up. I don’t want to miss last call."
Erik shook his head while swinging his sword, “Don’t worry too much about it.” His words were directed at the general he was facing but Nat also knew he was talking to him as well.
With a powerful strike, Erik disarmed the general, sending his sword flying. The man fell to his knees, breathing heavily, his eyes wide with fear. Erik stood over him, his sword poised for the final blow.
"This is for Iverst," Erik said, his voice cold and resolute. The general eyes grew wide. In his exhaustion he muttered, “survivor?” Then, with a swift motion, he ended the general’s life, bringing closure to a chapter of his painful past.
The flashback faded, and Abby opened her eyes, the weight of the story settling over her. She understood now. Erik’s actions, while brutal, were driven by a desire for justice and closure. She felt a new sense of respect for him, knowing the depth of his pain and the strength it took to face it, albeit mostly alone. She did not know if she could count Nat as a partner in that skirmish.
“Thanks Nat.”
“No problem. So, what are we going to do while here? We got sixteen months of imprisonment,” He walked into her cell and propped his feet on her bed.
“I have an idea about that,” she said mostly to herself.
Determined to make the most of her imprisonment, Abby decided to train, both physically and in her abilities. She stood up, stretching her limbs and rolling her shoulders. The confined space of the cell would make it challenging, but she was determined to keep herself strong.
Abby began with basic exercises, her movements fluid and controlled. She pushed her body to its limits, feeling the burn of exertion and the satisfaction of progress. As she trained, she focused her mind, channeling her energy into honing her abilities.
She practiced manipulating the fire she was granted. She almost blinded herself while using heat sense with her fire out, but she gradually learned to expand her fire and her sense. She was beginning to see the flow of energy within the cell and outside the prison itself, making a heat map of her surroundings. The exercise required intense concentration and control, but it also gave her a sense of purpose and accomplishment.
Weeks passed, and Abby continued her training, her body glistening with sweat and her muscles aching. She took brief breaks, using the time to reflect on her situation and plan her next move. She had to find a way to regain her freedom and continue her mission to find the Eternal King.
One evening, as she sat on the bench, exhausted from a day of training, she and Nat struck up an interesting conversation.
“Why do you think this ‘Eternal King’ is the key to helping Arvendon? He is the ruler of an entirely different nation. One, mind you, Arvendon is hell bent on wiping off this planet. Or have you forgotten the ongoing war,” He paused momentarily. She was in the middle of doing pushups and he was writing in his notebook as usual. “You’re also pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest more often."
"I can’t afford to rest, Nat. I need to be ready. I need to be stronger," she replied, her voice filled with determination, her thoughts went back to Janice and what she had to deal with in her world. “I really don’t know, but I feel this is something someone much more powerful than I could deal with.”
She looked up to the broken crescent moon barely visible through the high bars. “I mean he did that to something so far away.”
“That is the rumor,” Nat also glanced up, viewing the moon. Momentarily he thought back to the sight when it was undestroyed. Sometimes he longed to see it full once more. “I was on the other side of the world following an Auctian King at the time that happened. Oof, I’ll tell you he……he and I really didn’t get along…” Nat began to reminisce about memories he was not sharing aloud.
"My goal is to reduce my sentence,” Abby said bringing Nat back to the present. He eyes still glued to the visible parts of the pale moon. “There’s an Arvendonian law that could help me. It states that any prisoner can reduce their sentence by half if they challenge and survive a duel with their accuser."
Nat’s eyes widened. "A duel?"
"Yes," Abby nodded, her voice steady. "It's risky, but I need to face General Thane. Sevas is untouchable, but Thane... he’s the one who took everything from me. I’ve been training for this."
Abby considered the idea since her first day of imprisonment, her mind racing every day since. A duel with Thane would be dangerous, but it might be her only chance to shorten her imprisonment and continue her fight. She felt a surge of resolve.
Nat’s voice was calm but supportive. "Then you need to prepare more. Train hard, Abby. You’ll need every ounce of strength and skill you have."
And so, Abby intensified her training, pushing herself even harder. She practiced her combat skills, honing her reflexes and perfecting her techniques. She meditated to strengthen her mental focus and control over her abilities. Each day, she grew stronger, more determined, more prepared.
As the weeks turned to months, Abby felt a transformation within herself. She was no longer just a prisoner. She was a warrior, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The thought of the duel with Thane no longer filled her with fear but with anticipation. She was ready to fight for her freedom, to prove her strength, and to continue her mission.
On her seventh month of prison time, she announced to the guards she wanted to meet with Sevas and the High Council about her sentence. That afternoon the council met her in a grandroom. Abby stood tall, her tentacles coiled tightly in determination. The council chamber buzzed with tense anticipation as she prepared to speak. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.
“Members of the Council,” Abby’s voice rang out clear and resolute. “I invoke Article Five.”
A murmur of shock rippled through the room. Eyes widened, and whispers spread like wildfire. Article Five, a clause long forgotten by many, allowed for a trial by combat to settle disputes of the highest order. It was a dangerous gamble, one that put everything on the line.
General Thane, a towering figure of authority and power, stepped forward, his face a mask of surprise and amusement. “Do you truly understand what you’re asking for, Abby?” His voice was a low rumble, filled with both curiosity and disdain.
Abby met his gaze unflinchingly. “I do,” she said firmly. She moved her gaze to High King Sevas who sat above the council in their own chambers. “I challenge you to a duel. By the laws of Arvendon, we will meet in combat to reduce my sentence.”
The council members exchanged uneasy glances. High King Sevas, seated on his ornate throne, leaned forward with interest. “You realize that as my General, Thane is our champion in such matters. Should you lose, the consequences are severe. It could mean death, far worse than exile.”
Abby nodded. “I understand, Your Majesty. But this is the only way to bring justice to those Thane has wronged.”
Sevas’ eyes narrowed. “You disappoint me Auctian. I thought you above vendettas.” He sat back in the throne, interlacing his fingers in front of his face. “…but I won’t decline this, very well. You shall have your duel.”
Thane’s voice echoed through the chamber, “You think you can defeat me? I’ve crushed opponents far stronger than you.”
Abby’s heart pounded, but she refused to let fear show. “I’ve trained for this moment. You’ve taken too much from too many. It’s time you answered for your actions.”
Sevas raised a hand, silencing the room. “Very well. The challenge is accepted. The duel will take place one month from toady on halfway through your time. Prepare yourselves, the both of you.”
As the council session ended, Abby walked out of the chamber, her mind racing. She could feel the weight of what she had just done. Enacting Article Five was a bold move, but it was her only chance to avenge those lost and to prove herself.
Nat approached her, a look of concern etched on his face. “Abby, are you sure about this?”
She turned to him, her resolve unwavering. “It’s already done, Nat. Thane has taken so much from me, I can’t just let him get away with it.”
He nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of her decision. “Then let’s make sure you’re ready.”
As night fell, Abby trained with a renewed vigor, every movement precise and deliberate. She replayed Thane’s tactics in her mind, searching for weaknesses. This duel was not just about strength, but about strategy, and she intended to use every advantage she had. The next morning General Thane even to talk to Abby.
“Are you sure this is what you want? You merely have to wait a few more months,” He stated outside her cell. She was lying on her cot reading a book, hiding the death glare she was giving Thane.
“Yes, I also want to help my country and find a solution to this impending doom,” She turned a page in her book. “The less time I’m in here the more time I can spend finding out what I can do to find the Eternal King.”
Thane nodded in agreement, “That is sound reasoning.”
“Also,” she slammed the book shut and stood to face Thane head on. “I want another go at you, you took my brother from me and my friend. I won’t forget or forgive that.” Nat, who had been looking at the bookshelf, had never seen Abby in such a threatening manner before. It gave him goosebumps, making him shiver slightly.
General Thanes face paled, and his posture straightened to be more formal, “I see.” A few moments passed as the two stared at each other. “Then I accept your challenge, Auctian Abby Tiller. A month shall pass quickly. Prepare well.” He left the ward and shut the door behind him. After that day Abby was given access to various wooden weapons and weights to help her train.
The time for the duel was fast approaching, and Abby stood in her cell, her heart steady and her mind clear. She knew what she had to do, and she was ready to face Thane with everything she had.