Forlattena Prison, Desmond, 10416 P.C.

The Warmth was eerily calm. Matthew stayed still, eyeing the soldiers carefully. They had started a fire, trying their best to fight off the brisk evening chill consuming the forest, and most of them had their backs turned. They hardly batted their eyes when Anthony nearly fell over, nor when he had shuffled around to lean heavily on Matthew's shoulder. The boy's hands were icy, and Matthew clasped them in his warm ones, hoping to ease the boy's pain. Anthony both looked and sounded ragged, and Matthew could only imagine what he had faced at the hands of careless soldiers.

While Stephanie might have been furious at Todd for choosing surrender, Matthew could only be relieved. They wouldn't have won a battle, and Anthony would have been killed. Todd had made a difficult decision, one that could very well cost them all their lives, but Matthew knew he would have made the same choice. It bought them more time, prolonged a chance at escape. Being separated from the girls worried him, but it didn't look like they'd be apart for long.

The Warmth was calm, and so was he.

Until he heard the commander coming. "Bring the prince," he ordered two soldiers, his voice as sharp as the sword he was drawing from his hip. "Motch wants it recorded."

Then the Warmth raged, exploding into Matthew's arms and legs, jolting him with the intensity of an electric shock. Anthony jerked as well, gasping through his gag, looking at Matthew with huge eyes.

A statement Anthony had spoken echoed in Matthew's mind: "I was born here, and Motch promised I would die here."

They're going to execute him. Dear god, they're still going to kill him.

Matthew reacted without another thought. His fingers shredded Anthony's ropes in one single jerk. His own ropes snapped like a string as he yanked his arms around and launched himself off the ground, tackling the two soldiers coming for Anthony. He laid them out cleanly and rolled away, grabbing the gag that silenced him and ripping it off. Coughing out the dry cloth, he yelled for Anthony to run.

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The boy pulled off his own gag, but instead of listening to Matthew, he crawled over to untie Todd and Jessie. Matthew cursed under his breath, rolling to his feet and backing away from the soldiers. They were advancing quickly, drawing their weapons. He had to get Anthony out of there!

The Warmth engulfed him, pooling through every pore in his skin. He braced his hands, bringing them up in front of him and shoving the Warmth into them with a ferocity like never before. They flashed blindingly, startling him — but not as much as those around him. Several of the soldiers stumbled back. He took advantage of the moment to yell at Anthony again. When he looked, the boy was stubbornly working on Todd's ropes. Todd, thankfully, had figured out Matthew's plan; he twisted away from Anthony, nearly crushing Jessie. Anthony dodged Todd's flailing legs, finally scrambling to his feet and stumbling away.

But he wasn't heading for the forest. He was running right for the soldiers.

Stubborn brat! Matthew spun around, grabbing Anthony's arm in his left hand. With his right, he slammed his open palm into Anthony's chest, shoving every ounce of Warmth he could muster into the boy, blinded by that same brilliant flash of golden light as he hurled Anthony backwards.

Give him speed and strength. He heard the thought as if it had been spoken aloud, his voice, calling out instinctively but with no clue as to what it meant. The Warmth left him. Anthony tumbled through the air, encased in sparkling, golden light and completing a full flip before he landed in the undergrowth on hand and feet, sliding back several yards as if shoved by a giant hand. The look of awe and shock on the boy's face was mirrored on the faces of those around them.

Anthony was glowing. Literally.

It hit Matthew like a ton of bricks — it was as if the weight of the world has suddenly collapsed on him. The Warmth was gone and the world around him was cold, assailing his unprotected skin like pins and needles. He gasped, staggering a bit beneath the crashing tide of terror sweeping over him. He crumbled to his knees. Anthony's awe turned to horror.

"Run." The word barely puffed past Matthew's lip. The silence of the moment, each person consumed in their shock, was deafening. As was Matthew's yell: "Run!"

Anthony was gone in a heartbeat.

Finally, Matthew thought wearily. He managed to spot the disbelief and fear on Todd's face and the utter horror on Jessie's before he collapsed. Darkness, an old friend, greeted him.