Underground Rescue

Alexander placed a steady hand on my shoulder, his grip firm yet grounding. “You’re barely standing, Valkyrie. Let us handle the rest.”

I clenched my fists, willing my body to move despite the burning ache in my limbs. My breaths came ragged, each one a battle against the exhaustion threatening to pull me under. But I couldn’t stop now. “No. Magnus and Elara are still trapped. I have to—”

“You need to save your strength,” he cut in, his voice resolute but laced with understanding. “But I know nothing will stop you, so let’s go.”

I met his gaze, searching for any sign of hesitation. There was none. Just determination. With a sharp nod, I turned my attention to the slavers, their wrists bound, their faces pale with fear.

“Where were the captives taken?” My voice came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t care.

One of them hesitated, his gaze darting toward his comrades as if hoping they might answer for him. A tremor passed through him before he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “An underground chamber… beneath the ruins. Beyond that ridge.”

My pulse quickened. Time was slipping away. Magnus and Elara were waiting.

No more delays. No more hesitation.

We moved swiftly. The battlefield was behind us now, but the weight of what lay ahead pressed against my chest like a tightening vice. Every step felt heavy, not from exhaustion, but from the fear of what I might find.

When we arrived, the entrance to the underground chamber was buried beneath layers of debris and collapsed stone—intentionally sealed. My fists clenched at the realization.

“They must be inside,” I muttered, pushing away the rising panic.

Riri, towering beside me, let out a low growl before stepping back. He understood. The passage was too narrow for his true form. With a shimmer of mana, his body shrank, fur rippling as he reverted into his small black cat form. He leapt onto my shoulder, his mismatched eyes gleaming in the dim light.

Alexander signaled his men, and together, we worked to clear the rubble. Magic pulsed weakly in my veins, but I pushed forward, using my earth affinity to break apart the barriers. Sweat dripped down my brow as the last of the stones fell away, revealing a dark, gaping entrance.

A faint, flickering light illuminated the narrow passage. Without hesitation, I stepped inside.

“Elara! Magnus!” My voice echoed through the chamber.

A weak groan answered.

I rushed forward and found them—both chained against the cold stone wall, their wrists bound in anti-magic handcuffs. My breath caught in my throat.

Elara slumped against the damp surface, her breathing shallow, while Magnus sat beside her, silver hair matted with blood. Deep gashes marred his arms, and bruises covered his face. Fury ignited in my chest.

His head lifted slightly, blue eyes dull yet unwavering. “You took your time,” he murmured, a faint, exhausted smirk playing on his lips.

Relief flooded through me, but it was drowned by the sight of their suffering. My fingers curled into fists, nails digging into my palms.

The slavers responsible for this stood behind me, bound and subdued. I turned to face them, my rage boiling over.

Without thinking, I stepped forward and struck the nearest one. My fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. Another tried to back away, but I was faster. I grabbed his arm, twisting it before slamming him into the dirt with a judo throw. His cry of pain barely registered as I turned to the next. One after another, I took them down, the brutal efficiency of my attacks fueled by the fury in my veins.

Alexander and his guards hesitated, momentarily stunned by my sudden outburst. For a brief moment, they looked almost wary of me.

A strong grip caught my wrist mid-strike. “Valkyrie, enough,” Alexander said firmly. “They’ll get what they deserve,” He countered. “But not like this.”

Panting, I forced myself to step back. The slavers groaned on the ground, defeated. The fire in my chest didn’t fade, but I swallowed it down, turning back to Magnus and Elara.

I tried to touch the magic restraints, but the moment my fingers brushed against them, searing pain shot up my arm.

I hissed, yanking my hand back. “Damn it!”

“The cuffs,” I muttered, shaking out my hand. “They’re burning with magic.” The cuffs burned like molten iron, repelling any attempt to break them with brute force.

Alexander stepped forward, drawing his sword. The blade gleamed even in the dim light, a soft golden aura pulsing along its edge. A holy sword—blessed with mana, a weapon befitting royalty.

He inspected the cuffs, then exhaled. “These are meant to suppress magic. But they won’t withstand this.”

With a precise, fluid motion, he brought his sword down.

The steel handcuffs sliced cleanly through the restraints binding Elara. A sharp snap, then a rush of energy as her magic returned. She gasped softly, her fingers twitching as the numbness faded.

Alexander didn’t pause. He turned to Magnus, swinging the blade again. The second set of cuffs shattered with a metallic clang, the remnants falling uselessly to the ground.

Magic flickered back into Magnus like a long-dormant fire rekindled. He rolled his stiff wrists, flexing his fingers. “That’s better.”

Elara, still regaining her strength, let out a breathless chuckle as she looked at me. “I guess I owe you one.”

Riri leapt from my shoulder, landing gracefully before padding over to Magnus. He sniffed him once, ears twitching, then let out a soft, concerned meow. His mismatched eyes gleamed in the dim light, as if assessing the extent of Magnus’s injuries.

Alexander exhaled sharply and sheathed his sword. His gaze flickered toward the entrance, calculating. I stepped forward, extending a hand to Magnus, noting that he looked worse off than Elara.

“We need to move. Can you walk?”

Magnus let out a low grunt, bracing himself as he tried to push up from the cold stone floor. “With help.”

Before I could say anything, Alexander stepped in, his expression unreadable but tinged with something close to impatience. “I’ll support him,” he said, brushing past me as he caught Magnus’s arm.

Magnus tensed immediately, his body going rigid at the unexpected assistance. His lips curled slightly, displeasure flickering in his silver eyes as they darted toward me—silent protest written all over his face. But he was in no position to refuse.

I narrowed my eyes but held my tongue. There was no time for tension now.

Elara stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on my arm. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft yet steady, filled with unspoken gratitude.

I gave a small nod, my gaze shifting toward the exit. 

Deep down, I knew this was only the beginning.

Terrosa. The missing fairies and elves. The dark plans lurking just beyond the edge of our understanding.

The shadows were stirring, and whatever lay ahead—no matter how dangerous, no matter how uncertain—I would be ready.