Chapter 14: All I can do
As we approached the Sworn fortress, it loomed on the horizon, a foreboding and imposing
structure. The fortress stood tall, built into the natural rocky terrain, which added to its
intimidating presence. The stonework was dark, almost black, creating a stark contrast to the
surrounding landscape.
Massive walls rose high into the sky, bristling with imposing battlements. Large, iron gates
blocked our way, tightly sealed, and it seemed as if they were designed to withstand the strongest
of forces. The air was heavy with tension as we contemplated the challenge ahead.
Gargoyles perched atop the walls, their grotesque features etched in stone, serving as both
guardians and ominous decorations. Torches flickered along the walls, casting eerie shadows on
the courtyard below. Beyond the walls, we could catch a glimpse of the inner citadel, with its
soaring towers and fortified walls.
The fortress appeared to be well-organized, a stark contrast to its chaotic purpose. It stood as a
bastion for the Sworn's ambitions, a place where their leader plotted the destruction of magic,
science's ascendancy, and the king's overthrow. The sight of it sent shivers down our spines, but
we knew we had to infiltrate it if we were to rescue Sylas and put an end to the Sworn's tyranny.
Drury, Silvia, and I crouched in the cover of some nearby trees, observing the fortress carefully.
It was essential to gather as much information as we could before deciding on our approach.
Silhouettes of guards patrolling the walls became visible as the sun dipped lower in the sky. The
fortress was surrounded by a deep, dry moat, making any direct assault even more difficult. A
single drawbridge served as the only entry point. It was heavily guarded, and armed guardsmen
paced nearby, their armor gleaming in the fading light.
Drury leaned in close, whispering, "The drawbridge and entry point are well-guarded. We'll need
a distraction to get across. Once inside, we'll have to find Sylas and proceed cautiously."
Silvia nodded, her eyes never leaving the fortress. "We can set fire to one of the abandoned
structures nearby. The flames should draw their attention."
I added, "Once the guards are distracted, we'll make a dash for the bridge. Let's get to work,
preparing everything we need for the plan. Time is of the essence."
The three of us quickly gathered flammable materials and positioned them in an abandoned barn
we had found earlier. We soaked the area with oil and set up a crude, but effective, ignition
system. It was risky, but it was the best chance we had to gain access to the Sworn fortress and
rescue Sylas.
The fire was set without a hitch, and the abandoned barn went up in flames. We had chosen our
moment carefully. As the smoke billowed into the evening sky, the guards inside the fortress,
believing it to be an accident, rushed out to assess the situation. Their attention was drawn away
from the drawbridge, creating our window of opportunity.
With the guards focused on the blaze, the three of us made our move. We dashed across the
drawbridge and into the fortress, taking cover behind a nearby building. Alarms blared and a
deafening siren resonated through the compound. It was a type of technology we had never
encountered before. The fortress appeared more advanced than we had expected.
Drury leaned into whisper, "We need to locate Sylas as quickly as possible. The alarm will have
the Sworn on high alert."
Silvia nodded in agreement. "We should head towards the center of the compound; that's where
their leader would be."
We began our stealthy infiltration, avoiding patrols of guards. The Sworn fortress was
labyrinthine, with high walls and tight corridors. We had to be cautious and deliberate in our
movements to find Sylas and extract her from the heart of this dangerous place.
Desperation led me to project my aura to try to locate Sylas, but in this unfamiliar place, my
powers seemed to behave differently. As my aura expanded, I sensed a force pushing back
against me, resisting my intrusion. I gasped, realizing that I had triggered an alarm or some sort
of countermeasure.
Moments later, we heard footsteps approaching. It was the leader of the Sworn. He appeared,
flanked by his loyal guards, and his steely eyes locked onto me.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" he sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Another
magic user intruding into my fortress? How amusing."
I scrambled to my feet, panic rising within me. Drury and Silvia instinctively moved to protect
me, forming a defensive stance.
The Sworn leader continued to taunt us, "Your powers may have gotten you inside, but they
won't save you now."
We were trapped, outnumbered, and without Sylas. The odds were stacked against us as the
leader of the Sworn prepared to make his move.
Desperation led me to project my aura to try to locate Sylas, but in this unfamiliar place, my
powers seemed to behave differently. As my aura expanded, I sensed a force pushing back
against me, resisting my intrusion. I gasped, realizing that I had triggered an alarm or some sort
of countermeasure.
Moments later, footsteps echoed in the corridor. The Sworn leader, a refined man with an air of
authority, appeared flanked by his loyal guards. He studied us with a cold, analytical gaze, his
lips curved in a self-assured smile.
"Well, well," he began, his voice oozing with refinement, "it seems we have some unexpected
guests within our humble fortress. I must say, this is quite an intriguing turn of events."
Before I could regain my composure, Drury and Silvia formed a protective shield around me,
ready to confront whatever threat lay ahead.
The Sworn leader, his mannerism suggesting he could be from a high society family, continued
his taunting. "I must introduce myself properly, of course. I am Lord Alistair Thorne, and I hold
sway over the Sworn. You see, your magical abilities may have allowed you entry, but they will
do you no good now."
I couldn't let the chance slip away. With a fiery resolve, I spoke up, "Lord Alistair Thorne, you
may hold some power in these twisted lands, but I won't allow you to keep my friend, Sylas,
captive. Release her now, and we might consider sparing your life."
Lord Thorne's smirk didn't waver as he replied, "Ah, my dear child, you seem to have some
misunderstandings. I do not have a problem with magic per se. It's the indiscriminate and
reckless use of it that I find problematic. Our king, on the other hand, seeks to twist me into the
role of the villain, the enemy of magic, when my true aim is to refine it."
His words left a bitter taste in my mouth. I couldn't deny that our own king had his own dark
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side. He was ruthless in his quest to unite our kingdom, often taking extreme measures that
harmed innocent people.
The Sworn leader continued, his tone dripping with mockery, "And do you really think the king's
tactics are any more honorable? He, too, uses magic, and his so-called 'peaceful' kingdom is built
upon the suffering of countless innocent souls."
Drury, ever the impulsive one, couldn't stand the sight of Lord Thorne any longer. He attempted
to cast a spell at him, but nothing happened. His frustration was palpable, and Lord Thorne
seized the opportunity to explain his enigmatic protection.
With an air of superiority, Lord Thorne spoke, "Ah, you see, I've dedicated my life to refining
my abilities, to create an aura that's impenetrable to magic. You, my dear friend, are quite
powerless against me."
Drury's face twisted in a mix of anger and bewilderment. Our situation had taken a more sinister
turn than any of us had anticipated. We were in the lair of a man who seemed more like a
cunning sorcerer than a mere leader of rebels. And now, we were at his mercy.
I could sense the magic within me, still simmering like a coiled serpent, waiting to strike.
Despite Thorne's arrogant claims, I knew that my powers hadn't deserted me completely. They
were dormant, perhaps suppressed by his aura, but not gone entirely. With Drury's frustration on
display and our future hanging by a thread, I couldn't afford to give up.
I seized the moment and summoned my trusty sword, ready for any opportunity that might arise.
After all, Thorne might not know about all the tricks hidden in the depths of our souls. We had to
keep a glimmer of hope alive, however faint it may be.
Thorne's eyes widened with a mix of excitement and curiosity. "Soul magic!" he exclaimed, his
surprise and fascination far outweighing any fear. It was as if he had stumbled upon a rare and
precious gem, and the prospect of harnessing such power was too enticing for him to ignore.
A horde of black-armored warriors swiftly surrounded us, and it became clear that Thorne was
merely buying time for reinforcements. The tension in the air escalated as we found ourselves
cornered by these formidable foes.
I dismissed my sword, the last shred of magic I could muster, and we reluctantly submitted to
capture. The black-armored warriors seized us, and our fate appeared uncertain.
They dragged me down a dim, narrow corridor, my footsteps echoing against the cold stone
floor. The cell they threw me into was small and dank. A tiny window, high on the wall,
provided a mere glimmer of outside light, just enough to cast eerie shadows across the room. The
bars were rusted, the air musty and damp, and the straw-filled cot looked far from inviting. I
called out into the hallway, my voice filled with uncertainty, waiting to see if anyone was
nearby. After a few moments, I saw Thorne's dark figure approaching the cell door.
Thorne, leaning against the bars, launched into a monologue with a voice both charismatic and
biting, a voice that seemed almost too refined for this damp, shadowy dungeon.
"Monarchs," he began, his voice dripping with disdain, "and their so-called divine right to rule.
Inherited corruption, that's what they pass down through the generations. The belief that one is
born to lead, to rule with an iron grip, regardless of merit, character, or virtue."
As he spoke, his words resonated with an air of conspiracy. Thorne continued, "The churches,
too, the so-called moral compass of our lands. They rule the masses with fear and lies, using
doctrines to justify their power and to control what we think, what we believe. Magic, the very
essence of our world, demonized and suppressed, all to maintain their dominion."
His piercing eyes seemed to bore into my soul as he spoke. Thorne's monologue was clearly a
testament to his own convictions, his belief in a better world, despite his questionable methods.
"Yet," he concluded, "we, the Sworn, refuse to be shackled by these false notions. We will bring
about change, one way or another, for the benefit of all, not just the privileged few."
It was clear that Thorne was a man driven by his own sense of justice and change, despite his
dark path.
Thorne's eyes gleamed with a new kind of interest as he leaned in closer to the bars, his voice
lower and more conspiratorial, "Ah, and now the plot thickens. You, a wielder of soul magic,
running alongside a necromancer? How very intriguing."
My heart pounded as I heard Drury's name. It was impossible to hide the emotion in my eyes and
my voice as I whispered, "Drury..."
Thorne, ever perceptive, noted my reaction, and a slow, sinister grin spread across his face. "My
dear, it seems we have an even more compelling story here than I first thought. It's clear there's
more than mere camaraderie between you and your necromancer companion."
As my love for Drury threatened to overwhelm me, Thorne's interest appeared to shift from one
of curiosity to something more akin to opportunism, his mind now racing with the possibilities
presented by our entangled fates. “What do you want?” I asked as cold as I could.
Thorne's words resonated in the cold, damp cell. His voice held a strange mix of contempt and
camaraderie as he uttered, "What do I want, you ask? Well, it's not every day that I come across
individuals who defy the order and their backward beliefs. Those who dare to practice forbidden
magic, to question the so-called 'morality' imposed by the churches."
His tone took on a mocking edge as he continued, "I find it utterly preposterous, this notion that
a particular magic could be inherently evil. Magic, dear souls, is a tool. Like a blade, it can be
wielded for protection or destruction. It's all about the intention behind it."
Thorne leaned in closer to the cell bars, his eyes gleaming with intensity. "What I want, my
friends, is a partnership. A coalition of those who have realized the absurdity of our society's
views on magic. The power is ours, not theirs. So, will you join me in my endeavor to change
this world, or will you stay content with being oppressed and hunted like animals?"
With a raised eyebrow, I spoke cautiously, "Thorne, if you want our cooperation, how about a
show of good faith? Let me see my companions, ensure they're unharmed. It would go a long
way in building trust."
Thorne considered my request for a moment. It was clear he was weighing the potential benefits
of granting my plea. "Very well," he finally conceded, "I believe in building a foundation of trust
among allies. You shall see your companions, but remember, any treacherous move, and it will
be the last thing you ever see."
He signaled to the guards, who unlocked the cell and led me into the dark hallway, taking me to
where Sylas, Silvia and Drury were held.