The heroes traveled to one of the lord's keeps, a stronghold that once belonged to Lord Gunthar, a close friend of Leianara. As they approached, they found the keep in ruins, a somber silence hanging in the air. The once majestic towers were now crumbling, and the banners lay tattered on the ground. They soon learned that Lord Gunthar had been deposed and killed, but his loyal servant Derik had survived and was hiding in the nearby town.

Upon finding Derik, the old servant's eyes lit up with relief. “Praise the light you are alive, Princess. When we heard you’d disappeared, we feared the worst.”

Leianara’s heart ached as she replied, “I’m sorry for your lord’s death, Derik.”

Derik’s face darkened with sorrow and anger. “Those bastards have killed most of the lords and replaced them. The only survivors are those who went into hiding.”

Raithlin’s eyes flashed with determination. “The enemy are inhuman monsters, not deserving of compassion or mercy. When we are in power, we will show them none.”

Thoradin’s gaze was stern. “And we intend to become just like them.” He told Derik about the book they had obtained.

Derik sighed heavily. “King Galadren would roll over in his grave if he could see what we’re doing now.”

Leianara’s voice was filled with quiet resolve. “We don’t do this lightly. We’re driven by necessity to take extreme measures. I hope his spirit can forgive us our transgressions.”

Thoradin added, “I hope we can forgive ourselves.”

They stayed with Derik while they studied the tome’s secrets. Leianara had a book she had taken from the royal library, which enabled them to read the sigils of the ancient tongue. With its help, they deciphered the spells in the tome, their minds gradually filling with sorcerous power. They learned to cast a variety of spells, from hurling destructive energies to more subtle effects.

They discovered that their ability to learn and cast spells was limited by their intelligence and natural aptitude. Raithlin, much to everyone’s surprise, had the most natural talent for magic. As their powers grew, they began striking against the Zarocs policing the realm, wiping them out one by one. Word spread of the rebel mages who had turned against the invaders, and a manhunt for them began.

Unfortunately, Derik and Aloria were unable to learn magic. They lacked some special quality that enabled one to cast spells.

One evening, Aloria and Leianara sat by a small fire, the flickering flames casting warm light on their faces. Aloria spoke first, her voice filled with admiration. “It’s really amazing what you and the boys have managed to accomplish. I’m proud of you.”

Leianara sighed. “Thoradin seems to be ashamed of using sorcery, and I am too. It’s what killed my father. I feel like I’m betraying his memory.”

“We all miss him, Princess,” Aloria said softly.

Leianara looked at her friend, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Anyway, you’ve got your own magical charms. You should use them on Thoradin; he won’t be able to resist you. I know you like him.”

Aloria sighed deeply, her gaze distant. “His heart yearns for another. I would always be second place to her.” She looked at Leianara sadly.

Leianara’s eyes widened in surprise. “You mean me? Thoradin has feelings for me?”

Aloria nodded. “We all know it. It’s pretty obvious he pines for you. He’s been known to turn away other girls because he’s so devoted to you.”

“I find that hard to believe. I never suspected he felt that way. But I love Raithlin, and Thor will just have to get over me eventually. I feel bad for him, but there’s nothing I can do. I could never leave Raithlin; we mean too much to each other.”

“I know,” Aloria said with a resigned sigh. “Maybe in time, Thoradin will come to his senses. I hate to see him suffer.”

“Me too. I hope he finds happiness one day,” Leianara said, her voice filled with genuine concern.

The fire crackled softly as the two women sat in silence, the weight of their circumstances heavy on their hearts. They knew that the path ahead was fraught with danger and difficult choices, but they also knew they had each other to lean on.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

They spoke to one of the leaders of the rebels, a rugged and battle-hardened man named Baraden Castus. They found him in a hidden encampment deep within the forest, where the rebels had set up a makeshift base. The air was thick with the scent of pine and the crackling of campfires, and the atmosphere buzzed with the energy of determined men and women preparing for their next move.

Raithlin stepped forward, his eyes locked onto Baraden’s. “We need your help to overthrow the government.”

Baraden crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. “If you want my help, you have to prove yourselves first.”

Thoradin, standing tall beside Raithlin, interjected firmly, “She is your queen. You must obey her.”

Baraden’s expression hardened. “It’s her father’s fault we are in this mess. He should have known the enemy would return from exile. He was grossly unprepared.”

Aloria, sensing the tension, asked, “How did King Jesuon manage to defeat the mages the first time if he had no magic?”

Leianara stepped forward, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow. “It’s a closely kept secret, but Jesuon and his inner circle were actually mages. Once they had defeated the enemy, they vowed never to use magic again, and the power died out.”

Baraden’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I can’t believe the savior we all revered was one of our hated enemies.”

Leianara held his gaze, determination burning in her eyes. “We need to defeat one of the mages. That will send a signal to the people that the enemy aren’t invulnerable.”

Aloria, ever the voice of caution, added, “But there will be consequences for defiance. The people will be made to suffer.”

“Yes,” Leianara acknowledged, her voice resolute. “But we will set an example for the people to follow. They need a dramatic example of defiance to galvanize their courage to rise up.”

Raithlin stepped closer to Baraden, his tone firm. “I agree. Will you agree to follow our lead if we succeed?”

Baraden studied them for a moment, his eyes moving from one face to the next. Finally, he nodded. “Yes, if you manage to defeat one of the mages, then we will follow you.”

The heroes studied the local lord's keep, a formidable stone fortress that loomed over the surrounding countryside. The lord, Feronious, was a powerful wizard known for his cruelty. They watched as his men terrorized a nearby village, extorting the peasants and displaying their dominance. Deciding it was time to strike, the heroes and a group of rebels ambushed the soldiers, cutting them down swiftly.

Feronious, alerted by the commotion, emerged from his keep with a squad of soldiers and his two apprentices at his side. His eyes blazed with anger as he surveyed the carnage. He gathered a group of commoners, forcing them to their knees. “Unless you tell me what you know about these traitors, you will all be put to death,” he snarled.

His men prepared to execute the villagers when a fireball erupted in their midst, engulfing the soldiers in flames. Screams filled the air as they fell, charred and lifeless. Feronious and his men spun around to see the heroes standing defiantly with a group of rebels.

“Attack!” Feronious bellowed, and the remaining Zarocs charged the rebels, weapons clashing in a chaotic melee.

The heroes focused on Feronious and his apprentices, engaging them in a fierce battle of sorcery. Blasts of energy lit up the battlefield as the combatants exchanged spells. Feronious and his apprentices raised forcefields, deflecting the heroes' attacks. The air crackled with magical energy, and the ground trembled beneath their feet.

The battle was long and arduous, testing the heroes’ limits as it was their first time facing wizards of such power. Despite their best efforts, the heroes found themselves overwhelmed. Feronious was a master of his craft, and his apprentices were formidable foes in their own right. Exhausted and outmatched, the heroes were forced to retreat. Thoradin was captured as the others escaped, fleeing into the night.

Leianara's face was a mask of anguish. “Damnit, we’ve got to go back for Thoradin!”

Raithlin’s expression was pained but resolute. “Then we’ll be lost too. It’s really distressing, princess, believe me, but we’ve got to let him go.”

“I can’t let him go. He’s my friend,” Leianara cried, tears welling in her eyes.

“Thoradin is a warrior. He understands the notion of acceptable casualties. We can’t throw away our lives for one man. Who will save the people from tyranny if not us?” Raithlin’s voice was firm, though his eyes reflected his own sorrow.

Leianara looked torn, her heart breaking. Finally, she nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Forgive me, Thoradin. I swear we’ll find a way to save you somehow.”

Back at the keep, Feronious began his interrogation of Thoradin. The wizard’s eyes gleamed with malice as he paced before his captive. “How did you scum manage to learn magic? Tell me now!” He raked Thoradin with a bolt of lightning, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. Thoradin cried out in pain but clenched his jaw against the agony.

“I’ll never tell you,” Thoradin spat through gritted teeth.

Feronious’s eyes narrowed. “Have you found the Tome of Sorcery?”

“No, we learned magic from one of your rivals, Magelord Kakaroth. He sent us to destroy you,” Thoradin lied, hoping to buy time.

“Liar!” Feronious snarled. “You do have the book, and I want you to tell me where it is.” Another blast of lightning struck Thoradin, who screamed but remained defiant.

“Go on, kill me. But I swear you won’t get a damn thing,” Thoradin growled, his voice hoarse from pain.

Feronious scowled. “No, you’re more useful to me alive. I’ll spread word that I’m holding you captive, and I’ll exchange your life for the book. If your friends genuinely care about you, they will agree to my terms.”

“They’ll never submit to your demands. You’re wasting your time,” Thoradin said defiantly.

“You’d better pray that’s not true, because otherwise, you’ll be the one to pay for your friends’ heartlessness,” Feronious warned, his voice dripping with menace. He turned and left the dungeon, leaving Thoradin to his grim fate.