Dead corridors rolled on endlessly. The repeated design of the halls was disorientating. They were lit by neon flickering blue and oblong bulbs fallen in disrepair. They were clinging to their luminescence as their wires loosely dangled from the steel ceilings and walls. Empty glass enclosures were vacant and in various states of disorder. From below porous grates a grisly yellow filtered light into them. Green moss and mold were growing in the corners of the rooms. Scarlet blinking symbols titled each enclosure.

A barely kempt Desdin was at the head of a seven person group. His breathing labored as he held a hand to the chest of his black scaled armor with another hand holding a long sword with a glinted crimson edge. A black helmet adorned with one broken horn dangled by a chain next to his scabbard. Crimson flourishes brushed Desdin's badly damaged armor. Sweat beaded across his forehead as he focused intently on what was in front of him. They appeared at times to have a bright red hue.

He looked back softly at those standing behind him. The men and women behind him had mismatched armor, and their weapons, cobbled together from rubble, looked crude. Their faces were marred with concern and dirt. Desdin pounded a panel in front of him as he pounced ahead of the people behind him. A barrier slid from the sides, top, and bottom separating the group.

Desdin slid his back against the wall as he could hear them rushing towards the now closed door. “Warden!” They called out from the other side of the partition.

He answered them loudly, “The words here are warning us not to go ahead. I’ll see it through. Only I can translate the signs and understand what awaits. Turn back. Find a train or find shelter and wait for the defenses of Ouren’s prison to be restored. If nothing else, I’ll make the bastard turn them back on myself.”

At first no response came, but then a voice answered him calmly, “That is suicide, Desdin. We didn’t choose to come here with you, but we followed you while you made your way to the heart of this dead prison. What will we tell Esthea if we make it back?”

Desdin looked down at the blood on his hand from the wound on his chest. “Tell her nothing. She already knew what I would do here when she let them pack me up in that coffin. She knows what to do next. I should have given you Jonah’s damn sword to take back to her.” Desdin lurched forward, moving further down the corridors. The protests and cries of those he left behind grew further and further away.

Slowly making his way forward, Desdin began searching his surroundings. He smelled at the air. “Earth…trees…does this familiar scent mean I’m dying?” He found a gate and traced the symbols with his fingers, reading the words out loud. “She would not lay low. Here I preserved her dignity. Here I vivisected her unjust solitude, her regal nature, and his veritable fury. May time awaken and heal her fractured heart. I, Dragsil, assign her, the Demalyn’s, custody to my most trusted brother, Ouren.”

After he finished reading it aloud, the gate slid open, revealing a glass room most unlike the others. Coiling vegetation and branches pushed against the exterior of the glass. Desdin pressed his bloody hand against the casing as he focused his gaze inside. He could make out brunette hair and a massive, closed eye amid the tangled mass. His handprint loudly streaked the blood downward as he took a step back. When he did this, the eye blinked open wide and blossomed with a purple iris staring intently back at him.

Desdin staggered back a little. “Fuck. Something alive down here. I might die today, but perhaps I can at least get you out.” He looked down at his sword. “Broken…. but perhaps the edge can at least cut you out of here.”

He shut his eyes, focusing for a moment while he gripped the handle of his sword. Breathing in deeply, the edge lit up brightly in a red blaze. When he opened his eyes, they, too, were ablaze. Using the armor on his forearm, he steadied the blade against the glass and traced open a crude opening. “If you’ve gotten any kick left in you, then I need you to push to get the hell out of there!”

The natural growths massed and rushed the opening. And with some concerted effort, the wall fell forward. A mess of nature spilled forward before condensing and coalescing into a crude wooden cudgel and bracelets worn by the women clothed in lavender robes. She reached and grabbed a conical hat as it floated behind her.

Tremors shook her body as she stretched, clutching her face for a bit before sucking air in briskly through her teeth. “Who?!?” She could barely choke out the words.

He put a hand on her back before reaching for a flask of water he had on his side and bringing it to her. “I’m Desdin. I wish we had time to hang out here, but I don’t have long, and we must move on. Not sure how long you’ve been down here, but the only way is forward. Most likely to Ouren’s heart. The sign above, mentioned the name Demalyn, are you her?.”

She drank the water heartily and nodded quickly, gauging her environment. “Thank you. Somehow, I am aware that is my name. I know things, but my mind is completely hazy. I can’t clearly think of anything.” Her eyes were darting about as her words spilled out in a rush of vigilance. “This place feels unnatural. We must leave. Someone is whispering to me, faintly, to flee.”

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Desdin smiled at her before averting his gaze solemnly. “I’m sorry to have dragged you into this. Our exit will be some way ahead of us. It seems Ouren was your keeper. Maybe if I distract him long enough, you can find a way out.” He moved his hand from his chest and his blood had stained his palm.

Demalyn opened her eyes wide while looking at him sympathetically. Instinctually, she raised her orb up and, with the pointed end of her vine, began drawing a purple luminescence over his chest. He breathed easier, and some color returned to his face. I am certain this will help, but it won’t last long. We must go. They proceeded to an opening with a scarlet hue humming from ahead. They came to a big open room. A sleek metal throne, with red lines pulsating up and down it, held a man. He had long red hair and his eyes were closed while his head rested upon his fist.

Desdin made it nearly halfway through the corridor when he slumped against the wall. He sat back. His breath had become ragged once more. Demalyn approached him, taking a knee beside him. “Hey, I need to just rest here for a minute, yea. There has to be a way out. Find it and get out of here. I’ll be right behind you.” As he finished speaking, Demalyn looked upon him pitiably before turning her focus to the chamber ahead.

She leaped down into the vast space and strolled up to the throne. With the orb positioned over one eye, she spoke. “She and I, we know you. Resuscitate Oldest one called Ouren.”

As soon as Demalyn finished speaking, Desdin dived through the air, striking the top of Ouren’s head like an axe with the heel of his feet using all of his might. Unable to budge him in the slightest, Desdin grinned in futility before falling to the ground.

Ouren’s dormant suit of armor that clung to his body with a silver frame outlining dark red scaling vibrantly came to life. It pulsed in unison with his chair and then the surrounding slabs of the floor. His presence intensified, and he sat up, opening his eyes, looking coldly at Demalyn, completely ignoring Desdin. “How odd. Who woke you up?” A display lit up before him, flashing yellow with bars dropping from green, to yellow, to red, to empty. “And who has sabotaged my prison?”

“That man. He is dying. I would ask that you preserve his life. In return, I will resist the urge to fight you for my freedom,” she answered.

Ouren pulled up a separate display toward the man with dialogue running down it. Based on the information the Union sent to the prison, this man is Desdin. A warden of the north. Son of Jonah, and cut down by my brother Ivalic.” Ouren whistled in surprise before laughing. “And he woke you up and tried to attack me? That guy is tragic.”

“Will you save him?” Demalyn asked. Vines were growing from her orb and spreading throughout the room and began coiling around her defensively.

“My dear. I know you do not remember the intricacies of our relationship. We are complicated. If the opportunity presented itself, Dragsil wanted me to make you whole again and send you out into the world. I think that opportunity is here. I hate when we must deal with a time limit, but I will save him and give him something to help in the journey ahead. I will also try to reconcile your soul and mind.”

Demalyn kneeled beside Desdin. Barely conscious, he reached out and gripped her hand. “I’m fine with it. I’m okay with going. Esthea has got this.” She stroked his hair gently, smiling at him.

With eyes on Ouren she stated, “Just save him. I can’t tell how long I’ve been out, and I don’t know how long you planned on letting me stay that way, but I am in his debt.”

He raised his arm out, “Begin Ignition install. This should save his life, but he will need to rest. And he will still be mortal for now. Now then, as for you. The abilities of the Oldest and your kind do not mix. But if you open yourself up to my guidance, I can help.”

She nodded, “Okay.” Demalyn closed her eyes, and the orb floated before her, the eye looking only at her as her regal aura flowed from within her. The thickening vines engrossing the room calmly grew and stopped violently thrashing. She found herself adrift in her consciousness.

Ouren’s voice boomed inside her head. “Do not focus on the volatility of your imprisonment. Start with the last fond memory you had. Build the bridge from there. The foundation needs to be placed on mutuality and need. Do not construct a connection between the heart and mind with hatred and revenge.”

Another familiar masculine voice cautioned her. “Do not listen! He is the Oldest. Our enemy! Let the torrent of your full power steer you. Crush him here!”

Demalyn’s face creased as she resisted the second voice. She focused on the words Desdin had said in his willingness to let go of his life selflessly. She could feel a distant warmth from a place in the distant past that relaxed her visage. Her aura expanded and began settling.

Ouren’s display came back up with an alert. He looked it over. “A Lightbear. Fantastic. Lux Royalty on their way. What a curious day.” As Ouren was distracted for a moment, Desdin's body suddenly arced, causing him to scream out in agony. Smoke rose from his body as his hand and forearm glowed as if dipped in molten fire.

The voice warned Demalyn again. “See, he is dying! The Oldest will kill him and trick you back into the prison! You must obliterate him now! Remember what they did to us!” Visions ran through her mind, figures in the mountainside castle as it crumbled and fell into oblivion. Ethereal figures pulled one figure deep into the void, while Demalyn could only watch. Rolling over to see the starry celestial creatures drawing out her essence.

Demalyn reacted when she heard his screams and saw the visions. She herself screamed out violently. The vines rampantly grew over her body, and she released an onslaught of vicious attacks on Ouren. The vines destroyed his chair, and arcing red jolts instinctively struck back at the natural masses in the room.

Desdin came to in his agony and also rose to attack Ouren, who merely brushed his melee aside with ease. Desdin stumbled back to the ground next to Demalyn. “You are persistent despite futility. Surviving Ivalic is a testament to your resilience. However the bravado is unnecessary, I was trying to save you. And as for you, my dear, remember it is your mind and body. Pull the reins slowly and don’t get knocked off.”

Ouren seemed to grow in size as he went on the defensive, tearing apart the vines that were wrapping around him. “Little ones, I was not quite finished, but it seems we are going to be coming to a close here. Let’s properly send one another off.” Just as he finished saying that, slammed him in the face, sending him sliding across the room, where he stared up at Cherry. Thus, leading to the events that saw their escape from the prison.