CAPTURNED PART TWO

Despair is a luxury a hero cannot afford.
That thought, cold and clear, solidified in my mind as I stared down at the demonic encampment.
The capture of my friends was the catalyst for my resolve.
Beside me, Xerta's breathing was steady, contrasting the wild howling of the wind.

I could tell she was angry, and so was I.

"So," she rumbled, "That's their den. And your friends are in the cellar. What's the plan hero? We charging in the front door, or do you have something smarter in mind?"

Her question was quite the challenge to me
I could viably handle both options, but what would happen to Tulote and Cassandra if I barged in? Or spent too long crafting some elaborate plan?

I took a deep breath, letting Order wash over me, focusing my perception.

The encampment was a chaotic mess, but also a sort of system.
I saw the patrol routes, guard concentrations, and faint pulsing lines of communication between demonic captains.
At the heart of it all, I saw it.
The dungeon.

"Elara," I said, "you know these ruins better than anyone. Is there another way into that central structure? An old sewer or forgotten passage?"

Elara's eyes, wide with terror, still evident from our engagement not so long ago.
She pointed a trembling finger.

"There. See that collapsed section on the western side? It was an old aqueduct. It used to feed a cistern beneath the main hall. If you can clear the rubble, it should lead directly into the lower levels."

"Good." I turned to Xerta. "But we can't just barge in. The moment we're spotted, they'll kill Tulote and Cassandra. We need a diversion. A big one."

A grim smile grew on Xerta's face.

"I like big."

The plan we formulated was one of pure guerilla warfare, (it felt like Vietnam all over again.) built on our strengths.
Elara, fleet of foot and knowledgeable of the terrain, would circle around to the far eastern side of the encampment.
Her task was to start a massive rock slide down the main supply path that would draw the bulk of the horde away from the ruins.
It was a dangerous task, but I had faith in her.

While the camp was in disarray, Xerta and I would use the aqueduct.
We would get in, get Tulote and Cassandra, then get out.

"Be safe, Elara," I said, as she prepared to depart.

She gave a curt, brave nod.

"You too, hero. Bring our Lord Regent back."

We waited.
The half-hour that followed was the longest of my life.
Xerta sat sharpening a hand-axe on a whetstone.
I sat there polishing the Gladius Nobellus, not that it mattered anyway, it would be stained soon enough.

Then, it came. 
A low rumble from the east, quickly growing into a deafening roar as thousands of tons of rock and ice cascaded down the mountainside.
Horns blared across the demonic camp.
A wave of chaos rippled through the horde as thousands of them broke formation and swarmed towards the source of the commotion.

"That's our cue," Xerta grunted, hefting her hammer. "Let's go to work."

We moved like ghosts, scrambling down the scree slope under the cover of the chaos above, reaching the collapsed aqueduct.
A wall of heavy stones blocked the entrance.

"Stand back," Xerta said.

She took a moment, studying the stonework with a craftsman's eye.
She tapped it in a few places with the handle of her hammer, listening.

"There. That's the keystone."

She swung, her first blow was sharp and precise, aimed at a single point.
The second was a massive, full-bodied swing that landed with the force of a siege engine.
The keystone shattered, and the rest of the wall groaned and crumbled inwards, creating a dark, narrow passage.

"After you," she said, her voice echoing.

The dungeon was a labyrinth of half-human masonry and demonic corruption.
The air was thick with the stench of stagnant water and old blood.
I took point, the Gladius glowing with a soft, steady light, my sense extended to fell for the tell-tale flicker of demonic life-threads ahead.
Xerta followed a few paces behind, her heavy footsteps unnervingly silent, her hammer held at a low ready, covering our rear and the intersecting passageways.

We encountered our first patrol in a long, narrow corridor.
Four hulking demons.
There was no room for manoeuvre.
It was a choke point.

"Mine," Xerta growled, and stepped in front of me.

She met the first demon's charge head-on, her shoulder dropping to take the impact.
The demon was larger, but she had the mountain in her bones.
It stumbled back, its momentum broken.
Her hammer came up in a brutal, rising arc that shattered its jaw and sent it crashing into the demon behind it.

The corridor became a kill box.
I stood directly behind her.
When one demon lunged past her guard, its claws reaching for her, the Gladius was there to meet it, severing its arm at the elbow.

"Two on your left, low stance!" I called out.

She swung her hammer low in a wide, sweeping arc, catching both demons at the knees and sending them sprawling, where I dispatched them with two quick, precise thrusts.

We moved deeper, clearing corridors and chambers with a brutal efficiency.
We found the main prison block, a large, circular chamber with cells lining the walls.
At its centre stood a brute of a demon, a jailer twice the size of any I had seen, its skin was quite frankly a patchwork of iron plates bolted directly to its flesh.

"This one's different," Xerta noted.

"It's smarter."

It was.
It held a massive, enchanted flail, and as we entered, it didn't charge.
It slammed the base of its weapon on the floor, and a wave of chaotic energy erupted, making the stone beneath our feet feel like shifting sand.

"I'll take the flail! You take him!" I yelled.

I focused my will on the demon's weapon.
As the jailer swung the flail, I reached out with the Gladius, severing the threads.
The magical flames guttering on the weapon died, its power was instantly nullified.

The demon roared in confusion, looking at its now mundane weapon.
That was all the opening Xerta needed.
She charged in low, her hammer striking the demon's knee with the force of a thunderclap.
Bone and iron shattered.

As the brute staggered, she brought the hammer around in a powerful backswing that connected with its head.

The sound was a sickening crunch.

We found them in the deepest cells.
Tulote was pinned to the wall by stakes of solidified shadow, his body slumped, his great strength drained.
Cassandra was suspended in the centre of her cell, encased in a cage of tangible, unpassable darkness.
Standing before them, their backs to us, were the three Heralds of Ruin.

"...his will is formidable," one of them was saying. "But he will break. They all do. The Lord Regent will serve the coming Chaos."

There was no time for a plan.
There was only the work.

"Now!" I roared.

Xerta and I exploded from the corridor.
Her target was the Herald nearest the door, the one whose armour swirled like black oil.

My target was not a demon.
It was the locks.
I ignored the Heralds, pouring my entire being, every ounce of my focus, into the Gladius Nobellus.
Silus's words echoed in my head.
It is a key.

I saw the bindings on my friends as both magic and complex locks.
I would unmake it.

I lunged towards Tulote's cell, ignoring the Herald that turned its attention to me.
I drove the top of the glowing Gladius into the central anchor of the shadow stakes, pinning him to the wall.
The world dissolved into a silent battle of wills.
I felt the raw, shrieking chaos of the lock pushing back against my own power.
My muscles screamed, blood vessels bursting in my eyes from the strain.

Meanwhile, Xerta was locked in a desperate battle.
The Herald was unbelievably fast.
Xerta used her hammer both as a weapon and as a shield, deflecting blows that would have shattered steel.

She gave ground, but she did not break her footing.

She was buying me the seconds I needed.

Click.

With a final surge of will, I felt the chaotic lock on Tulote shatter.
The shadow stakes dissolved into smoke.
He slumped to the floor, gasping, but alive.

"Cassandra!" I yelled as I turned towards her cell.

The Herald I had ignored was upon me, its clawed hand reaching for my throat.
But it was too late.

A roar of pure, primal fury shook the very foundations of the dungeon.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Tulote was on his feet. 
He wasn't at his best, but he was the Lord Regent of the Imperium, and he was enraged.
He stomped his foot, and the stone floor erupted.
A wave of granite slammed into the Herald, sending it careening across the chamber.

I reached Cassandra's cage of darkness and instead of battling wills, I just struck it hard and fast, multiple times.
It broke.
The cage dissolved.

Cassandra dropped to the floor.
I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder.

The Heralds, their poise broken for the first time, looked at each other.
Their perfect trap her come undone.
One of them let out a piercing cry, a signal for the entire horde to converge on the dungeon.

"We don't stay for the party!" Tulote bellowed. "WE MOVE NOW!"

Our escape was a running, brutal battle.
Tulote cleared the path.
Xerta and I formed the rear guard.
We fought our way back through the corridors we had just cleared, out of the aqueduct, and into the night.

The demonic camp was still in utter chaos from Elara's diversion.
We used the confusion, slipping through the shadows of the ancient ruins and beginning our ascent back up the mountain.

We didn't stop until dawn, when we found a defensible cave high above the demonic encampment.
We were battered, bruised, and utterly exhausted, but we were whole. 
We were together.

Tulote clasped my shoulder with his iron grip.

"You saved us, Arda. Both of you."

His gaze fell on Xerta, and for the first time, the Lord Regent looked at the blacksmith with something akin to awe.

I put Cassandra against the cave wall.
She gave a weak but genuine smile.

"I knew you'd come for us."

I loked at Xerta.
Her face was grim, and her knuckles bleeding, but she smiled through it all.
We had faced the impossible once again, and won.

The war for Kaelen's Peak was not over however.
But as I looked at my reassembled team, I knew we were ready for the final battle.
We had taken their Heralds' best shot and had not only survived, but had freed our own.

Now, it was our turn to deliver the hammer blow.