The forest was filled with creatures, dangerous ones that he'd avoided before. Now, he couldn't take the time to go out of his way, and his fury spurred him
on, giving strength to his sword as he quickly dispatched any monsters foolish enough to get in his way. And as he ran, so did his mind.
The war, he'd heard about it through a pamphlet that had been circling, he thought, throughout the country. Serdio, the country he'd taken shelter in for
years, was now in the midst of a civil war. It had been peaceful enough when he'd left, with the Emperor Doel and the King having formed a truce. Obviously,
the truce was broken, if the Emperor's men had attacked the village. But Trowa couldn't think why the Emperor would go to so much trouble, just to take
Catherine. She was so young, and harmless.
Actually, Trowa realized, she wasn't that young anymore. He had been on his journey for five years, making her eighteen now. Still, he remembered her well,
how sweet she was, kindhearted and caring to a fault. There wasn't anything about her that could make someone as powerful as Doel want to imprison her.
And yet he had, and Trowa knew the man wasn't one to care who he hurt. After all, a man who would kill his own brother wasn't one to be taken as lenient and
Trowa knew, he'd ruled his part of the land with an iron fist.
His quick movement was slowed as he reached a small gully at the edge of the forest, and his eyes traveled over the log that lay across it. He'd run across the
thing in his youth, and it was to him proof that some things were eternal. The log was still strong, despite the years, and he climbed across easily, jumping
lightly onto the ground on the other side. Then he blinked sharply and drew his sword as a low grunting reached him, the sound of something large enough to
be dangerous moving through the bushes. But it wasn't dangerous, and his eyes softened a bit as he stood firm, staring at the large hog-like creature with its
curved tusks.
It was a memory that made his expression soften, and he remembered part of his childhood. Years before, soon after he'd come to the village, he'd been
following Catherine through that same forest. They'd been foolish, reckless in their young age, and neither thought much of the dangerous animals that
abounded in the area. Still, he'd called out to the girl as she'd gotten ahead of him, the bright grin she threw back to him making him pause in his step. Then
she'd crossed the log and screamed, her hands raised as a similar hog had threatened her. Yes, he remembered the incident well, and his lips curved into a
slight smirk at how he'd yelled at the creature to leave her alone. It had worked then, and he did the same now.
Sliding his sword back into its sheath, he took a sharp step toward the creature that pawed the ground before him, those ignorant eyes white around the
edges. "I don't have time to deal with you," he said roughly, his voice loud in the open field. As he'd expected, the hog jerked back and ran, not being a strong
creature at all. He stood still, watching it run away, and his smirk disappeared. What he'd said was true, he didn't have time. "Don't worry, Catherine," he
whispered, his fingers curling a bit as he stared at the ground. "I'll get you out, I'll protect you myself."
* * *
Hellena Prison stood at the edge of a cliff, and only the tall walls of the dark stone were visible from where Trowa halted. The road he'd followed curved along
the edge of the deep chasm, and he hid at that edge so the soldiers wouldn't spot him. They were positioned at many places along those tall walls, and he
knew without going closer that he couldn't simply walk up to it. There were probably even more enforcements at the gates of the prison. He scoured his mind
for a way to sneak into the prison unnoticed. While he had grown stronger in the past five years, he knew better than to try taking on so many soldiers at
once, especially if they had magic.
A sound reached him and Trowa quickly ducked into the shadows of the wall, his eyes widening when he saw a wagon, its wheels creaking as they turned
slowly. It was a cart, a large one with a canvas curving over the back, protecting the goods it carried from any elements. The back end of the rough cloth was
open, and Trowa didn't have to think at all as he snuck up behind the slow-moving vehicle and climbed into it. For a hiding place, it wasn't at all secure, and
he remained tense throughout the long journey as the horses moved slowly. He wasn't foolhardy, but he didn't like the vulnerable position among wrapped
packages.
He'd planned to hide beneath the wagon when the soldier manning the drawbridge checked the cargo, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The man never so
much as questioned the merchant who was driving the cart, and Trowa's eyes glinted beneath the cloth he pulled over him as the bridge was lowered. He
couldn't actually see the heavy wooden bridge lower, but the ground fairly shook when it struck down, and the cart swayed a bit as they traveled over the
thing. As much as he'd have liked to look to see how deep the chasm was, he knew it wasn't worth the risk and remained still. He didn't know much about
Helena, but he'd heard the prison was set into a cliff. Obviously it was separated by a deep fall, adding to its defensive strength.
The air smelled old and stale as the cart continued its slow motion, dim light filtering in through the slight opening in the cloth. Trowa rose enough to check
through the opening when the merchant halted, but he couldn't see any guards. Moving quickly, he left the cart, pressing his back into a corner so the man
wouldn't be able to see him. It wasn't that he feared an attack. Merchants never took sides in battles. They traveled in the midst of war, not caring to whom
they sold their goods. Still, he didn't want anyone to see him if he could help it. As far as he knew, no one had ever succeeded in breaking into, or escaping
from Hellena. If he was going to be the exception, he had to act carefully.
The room was nearly circular, with a rocky balcony curving near the ceiling and leading into small openings. It was definitely a walkway, but he couldn't see a
way up there. Two doorways connected the room besides the wide one the wagon had entered and he slipped out the one opposite the merchant. Torches lit
the way, placed in holders along the walls of what was obviously a cave. The path was narrow and didn't go far, ending abruptly with a pile of old boxes and
nothing more. Something sparked in one of the boxes, and Trowa knelt, taking up the small item and placing it with his others. Spells had an odd habit of
turning up in the most unlikely of places, and he knew the burn-out spell would come in handy. Fire was effective against humans and he expected there to be
plenty of guards patrolling the place. With his way blocked, he turned back to the main room and looked to where the merchant stood in the other doorway.
There was no hope for it.
As soon as the heavy man spotted him, his ruddy cheeks reddened and he let out a frightened cry, raising his hands and running out of the room. Trowa
sighed and drew his sword, his eyes narrowed. While merchants were brave enough to put themselves in dangerous situations, they had little true courage.
As he'd thought, a guard ran through the doorway, spotting him. The man threw something and Trowa's arms rose as thunder magic erupted around him. But
he wasn't hurt badly at all and he darted forward, killing the guard in one slice of his broad sword. The man obviously had little defensive strength, but the
magic proved the battles would be more difficult than the one he'd had in Seles. If the others had magic as well, he would need something to heal himself.
Luckily, the merchant was hiding in the doorway and he put his sword away quickly, raising a hand. "I'm not going to kill you."
"No?" the heavy man asked, his eyes wide. "I'm a merchant! I just deliver things, that's all I do. I work for anyone and everyone." The teenager nodded and
he blinked at him for a minute before sidling closer. "I have supplies too...they might come in handy for you..."
The older man was definitely a merchant. Nodding, Trowa took a moment to look at what he had to offer. The good thing about Serdio was that merchants
were usually free from any harm, no side would attack them since they were willing to sell to absolutely anyone. As he'd thought, the man had little to offer, but
he did purchase a few of the spark-nets and healing potions. The angel's prayers were more expensive but they were indispensable since they could bring a
person back from near death. Trowa couldn't use one on himself, but he still bought two. After all, it wasn't often that merchants carried the expensive items.
"You're happy then?" the merchant asked, his eyes crinkling as he pocketed the money. His profession had its dangers since it was possible to be caught in
the crossfire before he could identify himself, but most of the time he was paid well. "I'll be here if you need anything else."
Nodding, Trowa watched the man wander off to his cart, then he turned to the doorway and left the room. There was a guard standing a few feet from the exit
of that tunnel, but the man's back was to him. Obviously, security wasn't as good as rumor had it because the man never even glanced back as Trowa went in
the opposite direction. Hellena prison *was* a cave, there was no doubt about it. The walls were damp from the thick steam that rose from below. A deep
chasm was separated from the rocky path by a frail fence, the depths shadowed by the steam and Trowa stayed close to the fence, following it. As he'd
expected, the fence ended at the wall with a dark opening. He moved through it carefully, his hand hovering over his sword.
A guard was standing a few feet away, blocking a wooden ladder that gave access to the next level. Moving quickly, Trowa took the man out, his green eyes
impassive as they turned upward and he scaled the ladder. The path curved upward more until he exited the cavern. He hesitated when he saw where he
was, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. He should have known the place would be a labyrinth. The cave he'd come out of was a small hole placed in the
high rock wall and he stood on a semicircle of wood, the platform connected to another a few yards away. A narrow wooden bridge hung across yet another of
those deep chasms and he crossed it, his eyes on the odd lift that sat on the other platform. Judging by the rope that hung from it, it was operated by
something. There was also the entrance to a cave, though, and he went there first. This opened into a small, circular cavern but he didn't descend the ladder
that stood before him. Four guards were lounging near some beds and he knew it was a rest area. He couldn't see any point in wasting time there and he
turned back, stepping to the lift. The moment he stepped into it, the tent-like structure moved upward, stopping even with a higher platform. This one had with
only one doorway.
The lighting was dim, but the cells emitted a rank smell and Trowa's eyes narrowed to keep them from watering. This was the prison he'd expected, but he
only had a moment to take in the numerous cells before voices alerted him. Someone was talking down the path to his left and he turned, edging closer to the
sound. His back pressed the entrance of an empty cell and he looked around the cement, staring at the guards a few feet away.
Two men in blue uniforms were restrained, their hands chained behind their backs, held at spear point by two prison guards. The guards were urging them to
move quicker. From the taunts, Trowa knew they'd been captured during battle and he wondered briefly where the fight had taken place. Then a body was
tossed into the guard farthest from him and Trowa ducked closer to the wall, his eyes snapping to the second guard as that man backed toward him.
One of the prisoners stepped forward as a man in green armor appeared. His eyes widened when the brown-haired man spun a sharp bladed spear, taking
out the other guard. "Abdul-sama!" His relieved cry froze on his lips and he ducked to the side as another warden ran from the direction Abdul had come
from.
"You-you bastard!" the warden cried, his spear rising so it was aimed at the man's chest. The man had already managed to kill four guards in his escape
attempt and he knew *he* would wish he'd been one of them when Fruegal found out. "Fool! Do you really think you can escape from here alone!?"
Growling, he lunged forward, the length of his spear clashing against Abdul's.
Holding the man off, Abdul raised dark brown eyes to the blue uniformed knights. "I'll take care of this," he said quickly. "Go back to Indels Castle! Hurry!
Tell Quatre-sama...!" The two nodded and ran as he shoved the guard away from him. He saw them cross the short bridge, but his attention turned back to
the enemy just as sharp whistle rang out from further down the corridor. The man he was fighting struck him a glancing blow, but Abdul turned again, his eyes
widening suddenly. The knights were backing away from another guard and he lunged in their direction, a furious cry leaving him as the men were thrown
back against the weak fencing. The wood splintered and Abdul jerked his eyes away as they fell, swallowed by thick rising steam. His teeth clenched and he
stabbed his spear into the guard facing him, ripping it out and flinging the man into the chasm. Without pausing, he ran toward the other guard, his eyes
barely glancing off a shadowy figure. It wasn't until he was alongside the boy that he stopped, jerking back a step to face the new enemy.
The man and the guard were both looking at him and Trowa drew his sword, green eyes flicking between them. The guard was his enemy, but the escaping
prisoner could be just as dangerous. Trowa's narrowed eyes met a dark brown glare, but the green-armored man turned away when footsteps rang out
behind him. The guard seemed to be through waiting and Trowa met the attack with his sword raised, cutting a downward slash through light chain-link
armor. He didn't have to turn to know the other man had done the same as he heard a heavy thud. Those brown eyes met his and he lifted his sword as the
stranger rushed him. Their weapons clashed, his sword held by the metal of the spear as neither gave way.
"Who are you?" Abdul asked, glaring at the teenager. The boy looked too young to be escaping from the prison, but he definitely wasn't a soldier for Doel.
The dead guard gave evidence of that.
"Trowa. No enemy of Basil." His calm monotone seemed to make the man pause and Trowa held still when Abdul frowned at him. Then the man leapt back
and he relaxed his own stance, holding his sword readily but not threatening an immediate attack.
"I'm Abdul," the brown-haired man said, eyes watching Trowa warily. "Head of the First Knighthood of the Kingdom of Basil." The boy gave no reaction and
Abdul glanced over his shoulder as more whistles rang in the hall. Two guards rushed forward from behind him and he gritted his teeth, turning to face them.
That put his back to the boy and he gave a quick hope that he hadn't misread those dark green eyes. "No time for introductions!"
A guard approached from his side and Trowa glared, edging back until he was nearly touching Abdul's back. It was a momentary truce, but he had an odd
conviction that his back was safe with the man. Bare minutes passed and Trowa turned in time to see Abdul finish off the second of his two attackers. While
he didn't plan to say so, he nodded at the skill of the man's attack. A spear wasn't his type of weapon, but he knew they weren't utilized to their fullest extent
without speed and dexterity. Pure power also seemed to help as the brown-haired man jerked the spear free, nearly taking off the dead guard's arm. He
didn't know how high the knight's physical defense was, but his power looked better than Trowa's and for that he gave him a token of respect. He'd worked in
the last five years, trained during his search as he tried to build on his magic use as much as his offensive power. If the circumstances had been different, he
thought the knight could have given him pointers on power. But there wasn't time to think of missed opportunities. The brown-haired man had stepped onto
the bridge and Trowa frowned for a moment, wondering what he was doing. It wasn't until his eyes slid over the broken fencing that he remembered the two
blue-clothed knights and he gave a sharp nod, dropping his eyes long enough for the man to say his goodbyes to fallen comrades.
"I will carry it myself," Abdul said softly, his face warmed by the rising steam. His failure burned and he almost wished another guard would attack them so he
could vent the anger. The men were the only survivors, and now he was the last. His entire Knighthood was dead, and he would have to carry that message
to the king. A moment passed before he finally straightened, his dark eyes flicking to the boy who stood a few steps away. He could read the understanding
there and he moved to him, raising an eyebrow. "You said your name was Trowa?" The boy nodded sharply and he lowered his spear, giving those green
eyes a thorough inspection. "No one would come to Hellena without a *very* good reason," he said slowly, "Why are *you* here?" Those green eyes dropped,
shadowed by the boy's long bangs and he didn't move when Trowa turned away.
"I'm here to rescue someone important to me," Trowa said slowly, his voice devoid of any emotion. A prisoner, the knight may have heard of the recent attack
and he felt a rush of anger, knowing he might hear that she was already dead. He stepped toward the nearest cell and glanced into the darkness within, his
eyes narrowing further when he found it empty. "Have you heard anything about a girl named Catherine being here?" Glancing back, he was actually relieved
when man shook his head. But it didn't last and he glared at the floor. For some reason, he had a strong feeling that time was short, he had to hurry if he
were going to find her before it was too late. "I'll look elsewhere." With a harsh expression, he moved further down the cell block, not pausing when steps
rushed after him, his eyes flicking up to see Abdul walking beside him.
"Wait!" Abdul said quickly, giving the cold boy a pained smile, "I'll go with you." Trowa's reddish brown hair hid half of his face, but Abdul saw one slender
eyebrow rise. Aside from those eyes, it was the first expression he'd seen.
"I thought you had to get back to the castle as soon as possible?"
It was said in an indifferent tone and Abdul straightened his back, laying a hand on the boy's armored shoulder. He felt they had something in common and he
wondered if helping the boy rescue his friend would make up for his failure at protecting his knights. Somehow, he thought it would. "You want to save this
girl, right? I'll help. No one should be trapped in this place. "
The man's determined expression made him feel uncomfortable for some reason and Trowa pulled away, turning his back again. "It's my problem. There's no
point dragging anyone else into it."
"Maybe," Abdul said slowly, moving so the boy could see his thoughtful expression. The teen seemed to be blaming himself and it reminded him of someone
he knew. His lips twitched into a slight smile at the thought, but he nodded sharply, holding Trowa's gaze. "Hellena isn't easy to get through alone. If I help
you, I can help myself at the same time. We could fight together. You have to see that it would be easier. And you'd have a much better chance of rescuing
the girl if you have help, right?"
"Why do you trust me so easily?" Trowa asked, frowning at the man. "We've just met." The man actually smirked and he was surprised by it.
"I trusted you to protect my back earlier." Abdul turned his head a bit, glancing at his back before flashing the boy a quick smile. "No knife in it. If you were
planning on turning into an enemy, you wouldn't have waited, right? That's my reasoning."
He had a point and Trowa knew there was no reason to argue about it. Two people would make it easier if they came up against a strong enemy. "Fine. Let's
go."
* * *
The upper prison looked exactly like the one below, but they knew they had the right place. Outside of one of the cells a group of wardens were standing,
guarding the area. It had to be Catherine, Trowa was sure of it. He had an indisputable feeling that she was there and he caught Abdul's eyes a moment
before they moved. Despite the number, the men weren't any stronger than the other guards they'd fought on their way to the upper cells. They killed them
before an alarm could be sent. Placing his sword in the sheath, Trowa took a step toward the cell, halting when a soft voice called from within.
"Is someone there...?"
He knew the voice immediately, and Trowa closed his eyes for a second before moving to the bars. "It's Trowa," he said softly, his expression closing up as he
opened the cell and stepped inside, his eyes landing on a familiar face. Her red hair was tangled, and she looked nothing like the cute and confident kid she'd
been when he left. But her eyes were the same, only now they held a spark he didn't know what to make of. She stared at him for a second before standing
suddenly, her hands clenched at her waist.
"Trowa..." He looked so old, that was the first thought to run through her mind, then Catherine shook herself, frowning at the dirty cell floor. She'd spent so
much time thinking about him, worrying about him, and here he was, looking even stronger than before. She should have known he could take care of
himself. But she couldn't help it. Sure, they'd practically been siblings growing up, but her feelings had changed since his departure five years ago. So much
time had passed that she'd imagined what it would be like when she finally saw him again. But in her visions, he wasn't standing two feet away with an
unreadable expression on. "You..."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect Seles," Trowa said coldly, not hiding his self-directed anger. "But I came as soon as I found out." The girl's eyes were so
wide he wondered if she blamed him so much it took away her anger, she looked hurt and disappointed somehow. He'd been certain she'd greet him with
curses for being away so long, reprimanding him for not being there. The girl facing him looked as if he weren't the person she'd expected. "You haven't
forgotten me, have you? It's been five years..."
"How could I forget?" Catherine said sharply, her eyes flashing suddenly. A smile curved her lips and she shook her head, falling back into their old role of
brother and sister. It wasn't what she wanted, but she hoped it would make him less uncomfortable. She couldn't remember if he normally looked like that, but
she'd imagined their reunion much differently. "Let me see your face." One dark green eye widened and she let out a quick laugh before brushing his long
bangs aside and winking at him.
"I haven't changed much," Trowa said, turning his head away so his hair fell again. His back wasn't so stiff and he sighed, grateful that she could still smile at
him. He still didn't know what was different about her, but it was reassuring to know her time in the prison hadn't harmed her irreparably.
"Yes you have," Catherine said quietly, her own expression sobering. It had been five years but she thought he'd changed, surely he hadn't always looked so
cold and closed off. "You're much stronger than the last time I saw you." Her voice lowered a bit, but she had to admit that she was proud of him. He was
taller, not slender as he'd been when they were children. Unlike then, she thought the sword finally looked appropriate on the teen. She was proud of how
much he'd grown in the last five years, but if that were true, she wondered why she felt so sad to see the change.
"Hurry up! The guards are coming back!"
Catherine's eyes widened at the unfamiliar voice and she turned to stare towards the cell door. Her fear at being captured had been forgotten with Trowa's
appearance, but she remembered it now. "Who...?"
"Come," Trowa said sharply, his fingers closing around the hilt of his sword as he drew it free. The girl nodded and he ran outside, glaring at the three guards
who were facing Abdul. The man threw a relieved look over his shoulder and Trowa stepped up beside him, leaving Catherine protected in the doorway of the
cell. The fight was a quick one, and his only regret was that she'd had to witness the bloodshed. He couldn't forget how softhearted she'd been as a child.
Remembering that, he glared darker, knowing he'd have to kill the person who'd brought her to this place. It wasn't until the men were dead that he turned
back to her and his eyes made a quick sweep of her dirty white skirt, checking for blood. But she stood easily, her eyes meeting his without any hesitation.
"Are you injured, Cathy?"
"No," Catherine said quickly, "They didn't hurt me."
"Great!" Abdul said sharply, flashing the girl a smile when she frowned at him. She reminded him of the girls his mother used to bring home. There was
something about her confident stance that made him feel almost sorry for Trowa. That sort of woman would be a demanding wife. "You two can have a
wonderful celebration later, but right now, we need to get moving before they find out you've escaped." The redhead looked as if she wasn't sure whether to
be insulted or confused and he waved a hand at her, his smile gentling just a bit. "Don't mind me, I just figure it's too damp to have a party in here." She
blinked at him and looked uncertain for a moment. Then her lips twitched into a small smile and he nodded, glancing to Trowa.
The knight had managed to break his cool mood and Trowa was relieved to see the girl's smile. "Let's go, Cathy. Just stay behind us." He stepped away, but
paused when she gave him a familiar frown. It made him want to wince, but she'd always been stubborn. He couldn't pretend to be surprised that she wouldn't
let even her rescue be easy.
"Trowa, I'm eighteen years old now," Catherine said sharply, her eyes narrowed. She knew what he was thinking, planning to protect the little girl who couldn't
do anything for herself. No one had looked at her like that in years. Pressing the boy back, she walked to where some weapons lay against the wall. Her
eyes narrowed as she chose a bow. There was a sack of arrows and she slung them over her back, notching one and setting her sights on Trowa's surprised
face. "I can fight, too."
"Cathy..." Trowa closed his mouth slowly, glaring to the side as he knew there would be no arguing with her. And it really wouldn't make any difference.
Whether she followed them or stayed alongside them, they would still have to protect her. Abdul laid a hand on his shoulder and he raised an eyebrow.
"She grew up," Abdul said softly, ignoring the boy's glare. Trowa seemed surprised by her independence, but he'd recognized it the first time he'd seen her
eyes. "If she were weak, she wouldn't have been able to survive in this prison." The red-haired girl nodded and he gave her a quick smile, knowing she
appreciated his support. But it wasn't just that, he knew better than to argue with a stubborn women set on proving her strength. Glancing at the green-eyed
boy, he raised an eyebrow. "Right, Trowa?"
"...right."
* * *
The bridge swayed as Fruegel stepped across it and he turned suddenly, his stomach nearly hitting the quivering guard. His lips curled upward until yellowed
teeth were bared at the small man. "Say that again!?"
"Well...well, the Knight from Basil broke out of jail!" the man stuttered, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. He was far too aware of the drop beneath
the bridge and he could see the large head warden's hands curving, coming closer. "I'm sorry!"
"I'm not talking about that rat!" Fruegel cursed, the bridge swaying dangerously when he swiped a heavy arm over the drop. "After that!"
"The girl from Seles was...taken...by the red guy." His superior's mottled face turned a dark, ghastly red and he nearly fainted right there. Blood was
pounding in his ears, his heart pounding heavily. Why did he have to be the one to tell?
"What!? What did you say?!" Leaning down, Fruegel grabbed the slight guard, his hands crushing the man's arms as he lifted him so their faces were level.
He didn't get an immediate answer and he shook the man, hearing his teeth rattle.
"The girl was taken away by the guy with the red armor!" The words were barely out of his mouth when he was lifted higher and he screamed, clutching
Fruegel's arm. "Wait!" Dark beady eyes glittered at him and his arm was torn free, thick steam swallowing him as he dropped down into the chasm.
"Useless bastard," Fruegel growled, turning to glare at the guard standing on the other side of the bridge. "Don't let them out alive!" The man nodded
desperately and ran, making him sneer at the blatant terror. But he remembered himself quickly, his lips curling back. "Wait!" Distaste filled his mouth and he
let out a disgusted growl. "Don't kill the girl." The man blinked in surprise and he glared at the steam rising around him. "It's an order from His Majesty Doel."
"Aye, aye sir!" the warden said quickly. Turning, he ran before the head warden could take his wrath out on him.
"If you fail, I will rip all of you apart!" Fruegel called, his eyes glinting merrily at the thought. He turned again when the guard was out of sight and his voice
dropped. "The red one, eh? I'll get him." A small smirk turned his puffy lips and he let out a thick laugh. "I might as well dye everything else red with your
blood!" A guard across the way was looking at him and he laughed suddenly, tilting his head back until the wooden bridge gave an ominous creek at the force
of his guffaws.
* * *
They made it back to the first level of the prison, and Trowa was surprised to spot the merchant inside the cave. The man was obviously waiting for them and
he waved to Abdul, going forward alone.
"Oh," the merchant sighed, his eyes bright, "it's you. I'll give you a good deal!"
Trowa stared at the man for a second, then purchased a few more of the healing potions. As he'd known, the merchant immediately leaned closer to him, his
voice a confiding whisper given to the customer who'd purchased his goods.
"Be careful," the merchant warned, "everybody's on edge. I hear the main man is waiting for you in the cavern." With a nod, he glanced to where Abdul and
Catherine were standing and waved a hand at them. "Well, I'm going to make myself scarce now. Good luck to ya!"
"Thank you," Trowa said with a droll expression. He watched the man rush off and wondered briefly what sort of life a merchant's was. They never chose
sides, but he had the impression the man hadn't warned their enemies that they were coming, not the way he'd warned them. But there wasn't time for such
thoughts and his eyes snapped to Abdul and he nodded to the man. "Let's go." They left the tunnel and ran through the large, open cavern. The path he'd
taken before was blocked by a huge man and Trowa stopped a few feet away, Abdul moving next to him as Catherine remained a few feet away. The man had
to be seven feet tall and was covered in an orange tunic, brown straps wrapped over his chest and large metal shoulder plates holding up his cape. His face
was half hidden by a yellowish helmet, but what could be seen was a distortion of fat and creases. The man at least two feet taller than Trowa, and he had to
be three feet wide. Altogether, it was a disgusting picture, the large club he held making him look even less intelligent.
"So," Fruegel grated, his beady eyes pinpointing the boy in the red armor. "You're the red one!"
It was obviously directed at him and Trowa drew his sword, glaring at the poor excuse for a man. The size may have indicated strength, but he didn't look
smart enough to be a challenge. Staring into hateful black eyes, Trowa waited, sword held almost casually. "And?"
"Hah!" After a short bout of ground-shaking laughter, Fruegel pointed a thick finger at the teen, leaning forward a bit. "There's only one thing to do with you.
I'm going to throw you to the monster!" An emotionless face blinked at him and he growled, his hands fisting at his sides. "But not until I cut you up first."
Such bragging was irritating to the ear and Trowa glanced to Abdul, noting the man's focused expression. "Is this the head warden?" he asked softly, not
hiding his doubt.
"His name is Fruegel," Abdul said sharply, glancing at Trowa's green eyes. "Don't let his looks fool you, he is so despicable even his own people fear him."
"You're so calm," Fruegel accused, still staring at Trowa. He didn't know why the passive face infuriated him so, but he wanted to smash it into a bloody lump.
"Are you paralyzed, boy?!"
"You attacked Seles," Trowa murmured, his dark green eyes narrowing.
"No, I just gave them the order." Smirking, Fruegel enjoyed the controlled anger that finally glared out of the boy's eyes.
"Why did you target Catherine?" The man's smirking angered him and it was so hard to hold his place, but he wouldn't kill without getting answers first.
Escape was pointless if they didn't know *why* they'd taken her in the first place. Chances were they'd just come after her again.
"No idea," Fruegel shrugged, smirking as if that didn't bother him. "Emperor Doel said to just bring the girl back. The order was so boring, I decided to spice it
up a bit. So I had them slaughter the people in Seles as well!" The boy flinched and he laughed, one hand pressing his thick stomach. Those furious green
eyes almost made it worth not knowing.
"You die."
The boy's eyes would not give and Fruegel's gaze narrowed as he waved his club. Two guards ran forward and he stepped back, leaving them between
himself and the three fighters. "Kill them!"
Trowa kept an eye on the large man, but he didn't waste time trying to get past the two guards. Instead, he rushed the first one, his four-slice Volcano attack
nearly killing the man instantly. An arrow was suddenly lodged in the second guard's throat and the enemy tilted back. The man fell and Trowa hit Fruegal
with the same attack, cutting the man, but not nearly enough. The disgusting thing laughed at them, then two more guards rushed forward. These were much
stronger, looking more like ninjas than prison wardens. Catherine surprised him then, tossing a spark net at Fruegel even as he and Abdul attacked the
guards. A flash of white electricity surrounded the man, bolts of thunder spreading out before it disappeared. The head warden wavered some more but the
man Trowa had been fighting with staggered back suddenly and his eyes narrowed as he spotted something red.
"I might as well take you to hell with me!" the guard cried, tossing the item. Fire blazed over the three fighters, shooting up from the ground and injuring them
all before the he fell to the ground.
Injured, Catherine used her shield to heal herself a bit, but she was immediately hit by a large earth attack as Fruegel aimed a bolder at her. The strike hurt
her more than she'd been before and there was nothing to do except use one of their precious healing potions. Trowa and Abdul moved in front of her, giving
her a chance to complete the spell. But the second guard was dying and she waited, blocking as he, too, threw a fire spell at them. Only then did she use the
healing potion. She simply didn't have the resistance for such heavy physical attacks and she moved back further. It was a good thing her arrows could be
used from a distance.
Sneering at how useless the guards were, Freugel attacked. His arms circled Trowa, lifting the boy bodily and slamming him into the ground with enough force
to nearly crack the boy's armor. Despite the damage he knew he'd caused, the boy was on his feet almost immediately and Freugel's arms lifted to block the
counter attack.
Their physical attacks seemed to have little affect on the man, but Catherine was using magic and Trowa was suddenly grateful for her presence. So far,
she'd managed to stay back and still help. Although her physical power was very weak, she was better with using magic than he or Abdul, so he left the spells
for her to use, relying on his own blade as Abdul did the same. Fruegel actually seemed to be wavering and he took that as proof that they were winning. It
was with their last spark net that the large man finally fell, crashing into the wall.
Leaning against the rocky surface, Fruegel let out a furious bellow, his large arms beating at the rock as he struggled to stand. The three fighters weren't
strong enough to have beaten him, but he didn't have the healing potions they did. It was infuriating and he shoved against the wall, struggling to rise. "You!"
"Is he immortal?" Trowa whispered, staring at the man. If so, then there was no point waiting for him to recover, he was obviously stronger than them. His
eyes caught movement and he saw Abdul run to where some horses were stabled. He'd seen them earlier, but they'd been guarded too securely. And he
hadn't been thinking of escape then. Now, his eyes flicked to Catherine and he waved to the brown-haired man. "Hurry, Cathy!"
"Bastard!" Fruegel cried, finally making it to his feet. His voice boomed in the chamber and he sneered at the fleeing teens. The three horses disappeared
through the exit and he cursed as guards finally reached him. "Keep them from going, even if it costs you your life!" The men ran to obey, but he knew it was
useless, hoof-beats ringing against the rock outside even as the clicking of the drawbridge was audible. Two men stood near the curved exit and he stalked to
them, his hands curled into fists. "Bring her back." They jumped at his voice, but he didn't react, his heavy breaths sounding loud in his ears. "Or I'll kill you
myself." A cold breeze swept over his back and he turned suddenly, his eyes widening as he saw the black-clothed figure that stood on the walkway above
him. His anger disappeared, replaced by a fear he hated but couldn't control. "Y-you! When did you sneak in?!" The hooded man was standing on the
walkway above and he stared at the shadowed face, two bright glints making him shiver.
"Should we tell this to His Majesty Doel?" the hooded man murmured, his eyes sliding over the detestable man. His voice was a soft drawl and he smirked to
see the man shake his head quickly.
"Wait! I'll bring back the girl!" Fruegel waved his hands, shaking his head. His pride evaporated in the face of that smooth voice even as his fury boiled within
him.
"Of course you will," the man said easily. "Otherwise, you would be dead by now." He leaned against the wall, watching as Fruegel chased after the guards.
Tilting his head back, he smiled at the shadowy ceiling, his voice soft in the empty chamber. "It doesn't matter, though. Everything is going just as I planned.
Yes... They don't know they're in the palm of my hand."
.-.
PART 3
.-.
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