Chapter 37: The Liberator (Parakles)

  "Well, once again it seems that this experiment is turning up without the results we seek." An angry druid speaks as he calls for the guards to remove yet another corpse from his operating table of torment.

  This is the setting inside the medical labs at the main prison camp of Burm. The Bruin forces in charge of the camp by Seutonis were left to do whatever they desired to the poor souls caught and transported there. Some would even argue that this camp was a worse place of torment than the special dungeons nearby that had housed Siphon and Parakles previously. Sure this camp had labor, mining stone for ore, building, and smelting purposes. Yet, the man in charge was a crazed druid who wanted to use his opportunity in the camp to conduct all kinds of wild experiments on the population of the camp. Which, up until recently was still growing, though now the camp had not received any new captives in over three weeks.

  This didn't bother Yervin, as he still had his head focused on whatever crazy experiment he saw fit to try. And try he would with this current idea. He wanted to test the loss of certain bodily organs or parts and their potential to heighten other senses or functions as the body tries to compensate for the loss. "Bring in number 462."

  Two armed guards bring in a larger man who clearly had been a knight guard of a regent house. Though his armor had been displaced from him and thrown into the storehouse the man still had a headband that bore the colors of his house of service, the pink of House Flamingo. The man had clearly been in the camp for quite some time as he had signs of emaciation and clear dehydration. And though the man still had muscle mass…it was dwindling.

  The guards placed a struggling and angry man they called 462 onto the operating table under heavy candle illumination to the point that wax could and would drip onto those damned to the table. The guards then tightened the leather cords down on the man to keep any struggle from happening. "462 we will be conducting an experiment to figure out if the loss of one can grant a bonus to another," Yervin said. The knight did not understand and was confused and nervous yet showed only fight in his body posture.

  "The hell does that mean you mad fuck?" the knight gritted his teeth as he twitched and squirmed. He knew there was no escape from this table of torment, yet the heart naturally will demand and seek freedom in the face of doom.

  "462 such comments are unhelpful to the scientific method." Yervin then went over to a table and brought back a small blade and a hot spoon. So hot was this spoon that it was red from the fires it was sitting on moments ago. Yervin demanded the guards hold the knight's head down.

  "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the screams. The screams fill the corridors of the converted fort that served as a barracks and laboratory for the crazed druid. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the screams beckon again as the man writhes in a pain unknown to the normal man. The spoon serves its purpose. To scoop and sear in one motion. Yervin notices that the man has the headband of his former house still around his head. He then has a guard reposition it to cover the seared eye sockets of the knight who remained conscious throughout the process. His hands are clenched into a fist so hard that blood drips from his grip. He cannot cry though all the emotions that can lead to tears are here in this moment. He is alone and whimpers a few times before flailing wild and with a new rage in his heart, one that has not been seen in his life. Djent screams once again as Yervin sits patiently next to the table awaiting a chance to converse with 462 calmly.

  …..

  Moments pass as the beastly fury and pain upon the man normalizes within him. His world is now only darkness, it is all he sees. Black. He still flails but it is less as the pain receptors shooting off in his brain begin to stop alerting him to his own injury. Yervin sees this subsiding of rage and begins to take mental notes as he asks a few questions while walking around the man.

  "462, you now no longer have sight, do you feel perhaps that you can hear better?" The mad druid asks his victim.

  "FUCK YOU!" The knight tilts his head and spits though Yervin is on the other side of the table. His spit lands flat along the stone floor.

  "462 such comments are not helpful to the scientific process."

  "You took my FUCKING EYES!" he hollers without any desire to show civility or decorum. His world is forever changed.

  "Well then please tell me what do you feel 462?" Yervin still acts as though he can or will find the answer he claims to seek. "Describe it for me."

  "AHHHHHHHHHH! Is that what you want to hear? Huh? AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the knight continues his screams and anguish.

  "This will not do. Apparently not only does removing the eyes not make the subject better at hearing, but it also greatly increases hostility and anger in the subject. I will take such notes." The blinded man yields his rage as the futility of his effort sinks in and his fate as a blind man becomes known to him. The old man, a proud knight of house Flamingo, is forever gone in his mind.

  Yervin, after a few more hours of pointless fiddling with his latest plaything signals the guards to take the broken man back to the mine valley. Where he would be thrown back into the general population of the camp to suffer and work until death takes him. The guards handle the man roughly releasing the confused man from his straps and getting him off the table. He twitches and struggles until a guard bangs him atop his head with the butt of his fist. The blind knight's head hangs low as he is weak from the ordeal and feels helpless in his current foreign state. He doesn't know what life without sight is like. He is led out of the room by force and marched down the halls to the exit of the converted fort. While the touch and the sounds in the stone building are growing more prominent in his mind with each minute, all he can focus his mind upon is the laughing heard from the room he was in, the laughing of an evil bastard who isn't actually doing things for science, but for his own twisted amusement. The knight bites his lip as the guards take him from the building and toss him at the entrance of the fort.

  "What a loser, look at him." The guards laugh as one seeks to further humiliate the weak and defenseless man. The Bruin man undoes his trousers. A sound followed by a single stream of warm liquid pelts the man. The knight is weak, and yet a return of fight enters his brain with this newest insult. Tackling upward, back up the flow of the stream the knight brings the guard onto his back before he is able to react and stop his insult. The blind man is not accustomed to this style of battle, without sight. Though he was still a trained knight. He knows that he is atop the guard and slams his right hand into what he thinks is the side of the man based on the position of his legs on the man. Meanwhile, the left hand is exploring with purpose, seeking to discover the face.

  "BAMMMM!" The knight's neck pops from a blow to the side of his face from the guard he had not tackled. The knight had not tensed his jaw for any kind of defense and the strike took him fully to the ground, knocking him unconscious. Anger fills the eyes of the man covered now in his own urine as he rises and proceeds with the other man to kick the knocked-out blind man up and down and around his frame, over and over. They are only careful to not strike the head as they wish for his torment to be more than just today. Evil sayings and curses are hurled at the man unable to move for his defense.

  "STOP, STOP! PLEASE!" the voice of a woman calls as she runs in and tries to shield the man from further harm.

  "What do you want with him Morningsong? He won't be able to satisfy you if that is your want of him." She covers the man's body from the moves of the guards a few moments longer giving no further comment and praying to Kaya that they would get bored and move on from this beating. They jest her a few more times before deciding that they had more fun that could be had elsewhere.

  "Please stay calm I am a friend. I promise." She says as the man is still unable to understand or perhaps even hear her kind words. She calls for a few other prisoner slaves to come and assist her as they all take the larger man, with no more fight in his body to the nearest quartering tent in the mines. The camp was so large that once the mine got deep enough and only had four places that a person could exit the soldiers no longer bothered making pens or cells for them to sleep in. They merely threw them cloth for the making of tents. The woman, however, was not dressed as a slave. She wore garments of a light gray and blue and had a house sigil clasping her cloak. She was not a prisoner, and also not a member of the Bruin military complex.

  She and the others stripped the knight to examine his wounds and injuries. She got a clean basin of water and a rag. The woman cleaned and examined the wounds before she chanted a healing prayer, one much stronger than the words of Bryan, or Edwin that had been seen in other skirmishes.

  "Will he be okay Laroux?" one of the prisoners who helped relocate the man asked.

  "Wounds like this are easy for my magic to mend, but I am afraid the loss of his eyes will be more than he can easily bear." Her magic proves to be exactly that, magic. The wounds heal quickly over the next series of moments, and the knight begins to wake up from his nightmare as the healing of his body allows him to regain consciousness. She notices.

  "Please stay calm." She speaks slowly as if the very language she speaks contains magic in the words, healing the mind. He remains so and is obedient to the soft words. The knight slowly tries to sit up and groans as even though his body is healed his head is still a mess and it takes him a moment to remember that his vision will not return. He even tries to rub his eyes.

  "So it wasn't a dream." He says as he hangs his head. Quandary consumes him for a moment as he wonders if after every awakening from sleep whether the rediscovery of his dark-voided existence will be needed. The sage sees the pondering in his facial expressions and offers the man a break from the prison of his mind.

  "Good knight, how do you feel other than the blindness?" She asks in earnest nature. She knows the answer but wants the man to speak these truths over himself as if perhaps his own words will have more power over him than hers. He pauses for a good moment and breathes deeply, her words are magic in his ears and even though the sound of laughter from Yervin is still racketing around the catacombs of his mind the peaceful words of this woman are purifying the waging waters in his soul.

  "I….am undone. I feel better, but my sight. My eyes…I cannot see."

  "I am sorry good knight, my magic in the healing arts of Kaya's teaching is strong but not strong enough to restore removed organs and parts torn from the body."

  "Does such magic exist?" He asks, his head follows over to the perceived direction of the words as if he is still making eye contact with the woman. She feels this. She reaches out her hand to touch his. He flinches slightly at first, but then understanding the sincerity of the touch and knowing it is not one of harm he accepts it and lets her hand rest upon his own.

  "Perhaps, but perhaps only with the goddess herself.'' She speaks without knowing, but the words give the blind man comfort as the sounds of mining and pain, and anguish from those all around begin filling his mind slowly.

  "We're back in the pit of the camp?"

  "We are." She nods out of habit but remembers that this man cannot perceive nonverbal cues without touch anymore. "Do you have a name good knight, I would like to know the name of the man I am caring for."

  "Djent. I was Sir Djent of House Flamingo."

  "Were, you still are."

  "I am no more. I am just a blind man, doomed to toil and die in these pits."

  "Perhaps not, life is long, and only will that dreaded fate be certain if you give in and submit to it."

  "You speak not as a commoner, and you claim to have magic mastery. Who are you, my lady?" Magic of any amount from the common person is such a rarity unless they were lifetime servants of the clergy of Kaya. But even those in the cloister had limited abilities as most could not read and thus only had access to minor spells, like Edwin who serves Aurora.

  "My abilities betray me Sir Djent. I am Laroux Morningsong, cousin to the regent lord of Burm, Carlyle Morningsong."

  "Are you not a prisoner here? You sound unbroken." Djent asks as he is confused by her tone, being one different than he had heard throughout the pit since he arrived months back.

  "House Morningsong did not resist when Seutonis invaded. Unlike Egiar and Flamingo, we were not decimated and torn asunder. Carlyle and his wife and kids are still safe and serve as sort of puppet lords in Burm. We are free to do as we please." She responds with a heavy sound in her heart.

  "Then why are you here, in hell?" Djent asks with a puzzled mind to this meeting. "I thought the Morningsongs sought to only learn and prioritize knowledge. Why aren't you off reading or studying something in nature?" This was the common trope among the established house of Wiera. House Morningsong was never a waring clan. They ruled through invocation and intellect, not through brute power or even perceived brute power. They rarely had any armed men, but were one of the only houses in the free lands committed to the study and preservation of both history and magic. However, they mostly focused on light spells, and healing as Laroux had devoted her life to the understanding of. So the knight was puzzled as to why this free woman would descend into despair and stand at the aid of the damned.

  "My family in the town and keep are doing what they have studied to be able to serve the people as they can without enraging the Bruin men. I am best practiced in healing arts, my place is here where those who need healing and some form of hope are found." Laroux answered. She had this radiant kindness about her that was puzzling and refreshing. Djent was still in pain, and shock from the loss of his eyes, yet he made what smile he could.

  "That is beautiful." He says as Laroux grabs him something to eat. He is still disoriented and weak. Though the knight is aware that he must now use his body as a way to help guide him.

  "Since you cannot see, allow me for now to be your eyes Sir Djent," Laroux says. The woman was from a place of pomp and wealth in the world, but she had a kind heart and while she was not much to look at, for a man who had no eyes, she was divine.

  Djent smiles.

  ……

  "That is the main prison camp down there Anvil," Siphon says as their crew reaches a ridge just to the southern edge of the massive stone pit that the land west of Burm was becoming. Parakles paid no mind to the anvil comment as it was clear that the title was just a nickname by Siphon, one that Gina also latched onto. The camp was filled with people, more than Parakles had ever seen in one view of his eyes all his life. Though he was from the smaller city of Runsa which had in total less than 400 people, even before the plague and war, it was still a sight to behold. All these souls at work, with a few men with whips and steel strewn about here and there. The place was an ocean of terrible suffering. Many of the prisoners were white from the dust of the rocks they carved, cut, and hauled.

  "So how do we free these people?" Griff asked. He had gotten much healthier since leaving the dungeon and was actually eating proper portions of good food. The same was said of Gage, who though had lost most of his strength in the setting as a prisoner, was on the mend and the road to recovery. Though he knew his loss of muscle would take perhaps years to recover.

  The task before the small band seemed impossible. Improbable. Freeing these people with a band of six. "You really think we can pull this off Siphon?" Parakles asked as he stood atop a horse he had recently taken from a rider who no longer needed it after running into the anvil of Cavan.

  "Just look at you Parakles. You were already a mighty cavalier in your years as the right hand to the Cavan family. The jail and this war have made you greater. You just have not seen it yet, but you are a paladin, my friend. A symbol of justice and might. Griff told me of how in the halls of our lord you stood. And alone kept the Bruin men from overrunning the position. YOU! Not three hundred men with a crew of fire mages or some dragon; just you a lowly cavalier knight in service of his lord. You are more than a social knight now. You are a Paladin and you, atop this beautiful brown horse that glows golden in the sunlight are a beacon that will ignite the rebellion and disruption of the Southland occupation." Siphon spoke as though he were not some thief, but a minister or prophet, speaking the very words of a god unto a man. Parakles accepted these words and raised his lance high. He knew that normally such titles were bestowed by a lord and not granted by a friend, and yet the words of his friend seemed to have the very power that a lord would have in his verbiage. Parakles believed it true.

  "THEN LET US CLEAVE THESE CURS!" Parakles yells as his lance tip catches the sunlight alerting all in the camp both slave and slaver. The Bruin men are enraged at the sight as the sextet descends into the dry lake of cut and hewn stone. Parakles knows that the majority of the power the party has at their disposal rests upon his shoulders alone. And he moves ahead with this understood purpose. He is the first to engage in combat as he runs rough through a line of slavers with their whips and small swords. They are nothing in the view of the majestic prowess that is the imbued honor of the paladin. His lance is true, his strikes are pure and daunting. Parakles fells the three that challenge him as his retinue enters the pit behind him.

  Siphon knows where the power in the party is. He turns his focus from the main conflict to be with Gina his paramour to the freeing of slaves and causing an uproar while having Griff and Gage back up their leader. "Gina we'll break their chains if they have them. We'll seek to create chaos in these pits and revolt from the lowly people that have been trapped here for so long and are so desperate for their freedom to be returned." His lover is smitten with the valor that her man is showing as he runs around, using his lock-picking skills to unlock the chains on those who have them. Mostly the men of the camp are the ones that wear such chains as they are the ones who entered with more strength to fight and posed to the guards a more significant threat. He is quick and with each opportunity and chain broken free of the people of the pits join in, some grabbing what rudimentary tools they hold, and some grabbing the weapons of the Bruin guards that Parakles and his triad had felled. Within a matter of minutes, the small disruption had grown into a frenzied uproar as waves of those oppressed found new life even in their weakness.

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  "FILTHY PRISONERS! DIE!" A Slaver of known wickedness and malice is not yielding to fear and succumbing to its pull. He whips with more force than perhaps he ever has before. Anger fills the swats of the crackling whip. His sword stands ready in his offhand as well, set to the purpose of ending rebellious life. He gets his chance as a series of loosed men and women charge him personally, with scars and burns hot upon their flesh and being added to while they encroach on his position. He swings. He flails. He proves too much for the first three that assail him. "YOU ARE NOTHIN COMPARED TO ME AND THE BRUIN!" He calls out with anger in his heart and eyes. Another man charges and slams his chisel into the right shoulder of the man. The whip falls to the side as the arm is rendered useless. The slaver moans in rage, with teeth gnashed and muscles tensing, adding to his pain and disruption. His posture falls with the wound. However, the man recovers enough to twirl to his left and slash open the belly of the slave that so wounded him. The slave grabs at his guts falling out before him before falling atop the slaver. Knocking him off his feet. Gina sees the chance and moves in. She slams her sword into the skull of the slaver thus fully ending his threat upon the people rising up in defiance.

  "Gina follow me, we need to break into the eastern section of the camp," Siphon calls as many of the people while eager to get revenge on a particular guard, are not joining Parakles at the front, the path to the fort as he would like. He knows the anvil is mighty, but enough blows to it can crack even the toughest of bases. "Hold out and push on Anvil." He thinks as he moves further and further.

  Parakles continues to show his true prowess, as he has for so long been subjected to merely fighting on his feet, but he is a master of a horseman. He maneuvers through the traffic and stands above all without trepidation or fear. The horse senses this and trusts the master riding him. Griff follows suit and cleans up the men who fall to his sire but have little fight left in them. Gage lags behind as his stamina is still on the mend. He is confused and upset as he is an archer, one who survived the siege of Runsa. Yet, his strength has not recovered enough to successfully draw a bow at the force needed for a true and clean shot. He tries to loose an arrow only to see it not even reach the target by half the distance required.

  "Guess I better stick to knife work for now." He runs as close behind Griff the energetic young squire. Coughing slightly as he runs from the dusty air, the archer laid low knows his limits and does what he is able to, which is nearly nothing for now.

  "SOOOOM!" Parakles pierces the flesh of another guard. His strike is so true that he is able to still retrieve his lance in the same motion. He strikes another through. This time the man falls forward and the lance is stuck. Another guard snags a whip onto the paladin's lance arm. "Damn! URHHHH!" He strains to try and free himself. He could gallop his horse but fears what such strain would bring to his arm. To his left side a man with a sword roars as he sees his chance.

  "PARAKLES!" Griff calls from the rear, the paladin shifts his attention as he sees a shield fallen to the ground by a defeated guard flying true at his left side. The paladin drops the reins of his steed just long enough to catch the flying saucer.

  "TING!" The shield arrives in the needed position just in time as the blade clangs against the opposing metalwork. Parakles is still undermined as his offensive arm is still held in check by the whip. He cannot free it with might alone. An idea pops into his mind though. He grasps the reins with his left hand as he now has a shield to help protect his flank side. The horse understands exactly what is being done as he feels the pulling of the reins hard to the right. The horse moves over hard in that direction.

  Smiles turn to terror as the guard can see his demise coming for him. "NO! NO!" He cries as the horse knocks him to the ground and then stomps him to death as he pivots about. Soon the grip on the whip is shattered and Parakles is able to pull the harrowing rope to his side and untangle his arm. "Close calls." He says softly as he pats down his steed, thanking the beast for a job well done in the chaos of the fighting.

  "Any chains needed unlocking here?" Siphon calls as he enters a tent. Inside there are just a few children and a woman clearly not a slave with a larger framed man standing in front of the children with a walking stick in his hands, positioned as though it were a long spear for military use.

  "WHO ARE YOU?" The man speaks. Siphon quickly notices the headband covering the eyes and realizes the man is blind But brave.

  "We are here to free everyone and turn this camp against the Bruin forces. Do you have any chains on you?"

  "We do not," Laroux speaks up. Her voice has the same calming cadence that she had when first speaking to the injured Djent when they met. Siphon notices this and is put at ease. Gina follows in and has a quick scowl on her face as she sees the woman after hearing her lovely voice. However, Gina is less bothered once she sees her as she is much older than her and not some illustrious beauty.

  "Come on Siphon there are others to free, and Parakles needs more fighters charging the stronghold of the camp." The words fight enter the ears of the blind man.

  "Fighting. You're taking over the camp. Please allow me to help."

  "Sir, you are blind," Siphon replies with all kindness.

  "Just get me a spear and if Laroux will be my eyes and guide me about the field I will give you everything I have left in me." Siphon recognizes the willpower in his voice. It is a similar will that Parakles himself has, perhaps this is the drive that all good knights of the realm, all paragons of honor holdfast to. "Laroux, please good lady, be my eyes," Djent asks.

  "Absolutely." She lets them know she will use her magic to help in this fight as well, both light spells and healing arts. She asked the kids and those hiding to wait in the tent until the fighting was over. All exit and return to the fray. Siphon and Gina rove about looking for chains to break and straggler guards to take down. Laroux pauses Djent for a moment as she finds the knight a long-lance spear. She replaces in his hand the stick with the lance. He touches it around a bit to help him get a sense of the length and reach he has available to him. Perhaps it is enough, perhaps it is not. He doesn't care. He only wants to feel the body of Yervin slide down the spear tip. "Are you ready?" Laroux says as she puts her hand on his left shoulder. "I'll protect your weak side, just you focus on moving forward Djent." The knight pauses for a moment and puts his hand atop the Sage's. He doesn't say thank you, but she feels the thank you in his actions.

  "I'm ready." He says.

  Back at the front Parakles has broken all the lines and pushed the remaining guards to the choke that rises up out of the pit to the fort. Narrow, and rising at a steep grade, the choke proves a slog. He doesn't focus on how many men stand in his way. Already the odds have been proven wrong as all throughout below him and his horse in the pit rioters are with feral aggression beating and killing the guards and ending their torment at the hands of the Bruin. People who had their whole lives and families upended are now striking back. These cries from behind him rally the paladin forward in his fight. Griff and Gage stay at his ready, though all know who is doing the heavy lifting in his battle.

  "I've got it!" Gage thinks of a way that he can make his shots true now that he is firing at a straight-ahead spot. The archer sets his quiver down alongside him and lays on his back. He slots an arrow into position and uses his feet to pull and push the bow forward versus only relying on his hands. The bow responds with strong pulls so deep that Gage being as experienced as he was with the bow knew these bolts would fly further than anything he has ever loosed. He slides his upper body to make sure he is still aiming properly.

  "THUMMMMMM!" The bow flings forward as the arrow stampedes from the stationary position into pure flight, a flight that screams as it sails through the air.

  "UHHHH!" The bolt breaks through the very armor of an armored guard atop the ridge who is holding back the charge by the paladin. The guard stammers for a moment before falling to his knees and then to his side while life flows from his wound. An exhale is heard back behind the paladin as the archer is relieved that not only did the shot work but that he was also able to still correctly aim, even with the extra force. "I still have use it seems." He repeats the process again. The second shot sails overhead a guard, but he is not discouraged as the archer is once more in his element, firing from the back line. Aiding the efforts of Parakles the anvil of Cavan.

  "SHINE!" A bright small light burst blasts at the men on the ridge disrupting and damaging a man causing blindness and pain to his face from pure light burns. Laroux is noticed instantly by all the men as she follows closely behind the frame of a man, in simple worn-down shod pants and no shirt revealing his muscle frame showcasing he was and is a strong combat specialist. This is Djent.

  "Did you hit them?" Djent asks as he taps his spear butt ahead of him with the tip raised to not allow him to accidentally rip open an ally.

  "I did. Keep going straight, we are reaching the up ramp to the barracks." Her hand is still on his shoulder as they move forward. While the man is blind, he still moves quicker than you would expect, perhaps due to the trust that he places in his eyes, the lady of Morningsong.

  The pushing and slog of the up ramp battle continues as those freed but without much training try to be of service only to find their flame of life snuffed out and their body thrown back down into the pit, while Parakles and now Djent with Laroux push forward. Light spells and spear thrusts slowly, inch by inch gain the rebel forces the ground. Until they are no longer in the choke and are now above it.

  "Push forward!" Siphon calls as he rallies those at the rear. He and Gina had sprawled about and knocked all locks in the near area, and slew a few defiant guards. However, now their focus was fully aligned with Parakles in finishing off the camp and seeing the Bruin banners removed from the high places.

  The remaining guards are frantic as they never expected to actually be called to a true fight. Most of the prison camp guards were the troublemakers and those deemed to be risks to a formation in the Bruin military society. Thus they were not involved in the formal armies of war. Some throw down their weapons, but mercy is not shown by any of the formerly damned souls. Their memory of the starvation and beatings are still too hot in their minds. They rip the cowards asunder, tearing limbs and bashing skulls in with the very stones they were forced to cut.

  The men under Parakles push inside, and the swarm engulfs all of the barrack halls like a viral infection upon a population, swallowing it whole.

  However, one man remains defiant as they push to the very inner chambers of the fort. "This is my lab of science. I will not surrender." The wicked Druid Yervin is not willing to lay down arms. He incants spells of dark magic, calling phantom soldiers to his aide blocking Parakles from reaching the Druid.

  "Dang he is summoning these dark void beings quicker than we can slay them, and they are too much for the worn-down prisoners." He says.

  "Just keep slaying them," Siphon says as he holds one still so Gina can slam a sword into its chest. The void soldiers when defeated dissipate into nothing. Leaving behind no weapons, armor, or body. Though they are very much able to wound and take space prior to their defeat.

  "Parakles break their line and we will deal with Yervin," Laroux calls out as Djent delivers a crushing spear blow to a phantom void ahead of him. "Good thrust Djent."

  "I think I'm starting to understand how to do this blind thing a bit better." He replies.

  "Fine! Here is your opening!" The paladin swoops his horse around and with his lance, he swipes back 3 phantoms in the center creating a hole in the line blocking the twisted sadist from being directly assaulted. Laroux taps Djent on the soldier who then takes off running with full confidence in his eyes. They move through the line and out the other way.

  "462 and Laroux! This will not do!" Yervin chants for a quick spell. A dark matter blast plows into the chest of the blind knight. Knocking the wind out of him but not taking him from his feet. Djent slams his lance head into the stone floor beneath him to lean upon for support as the force of the blast knocks his energy from him. Yervin chants another fast spell firing another, different kind of dark blast.

  "AURA!" a strong flash of light engulfs and explodes the dark ray sent from the druid. He is alarmed and begins to chant another spell.

  "SHUNKK!" A knife penetrates his chest. The blow is not fatal but it is distracting as Siphon connected his thrown knife into the thickest part of the crazed dark magic practitioner's chest, so the blow only went deep enough to annoy the man. The druid reacts fast and with his off-hand, he slams a symbol he has engraved on his wall. The touch from his hand enacts a barrier of energy that separates Laroux and Djent with Yervin in an isolated space that cannot be further interfered with by outside parties. The phantoms are no more on the other side as the druid is no longer channeling them. This creates a spectating calm on the other side of the magic barrier as Parakles, Siphon, and the others find their weapons useless as they watch the blind and light bringer move against the enraged druid. Djent is still standing but he is of no consequence or attention to Yervin as the last blast left him staggered.

  "Go get him, Laroux. I can stand. You need to kill him." Djent huffs as he tries to get his breathing and balance under control.

  "Okay." She taps his shoulder and moves from behind the man. The druid sees that now his sole opponent is the lady of Morningsong.

  "You studious wench! All your family is good for is a bedtime story, but I am the nightmare!" He pushes his hand forward unleashing a torrent of black energy toward her. She parries it with a twirling swat of her hand. She channels her own source of magic, the light itself. Her eyes glow as she is then veiled in an aura of protection. Yervin is not amused and slams spell after spell repeatedly into the woman. The same spell that knocked the Knight to his knees glances and brushes off or is extinguished by shielding light that engulfs the woman.

  "What is this spell?" Yervin calls as he frantically incants for a spell to veil himself as she has veiled herself.

  "Floria!" She calls as a spear made of bright energy emerges and flies hard in the air, straight through the druid. The spear does not explode or dissipate on impact. Though it does pin him.

  "AHHHHHHH IT'S BURNING!" He cries out. Though he knows the battle will not end purely because of injury. He summons a vortex below the light-bringer. The pain from the light spear is still present and harrowing as his flesh is melted from the contact, but the vortex swallows and sucks Laroux from her composure, breaking her veil of protection. Collapsing her into the floor as she flaps around trying to stay out of the depth of the swirl below her. However, it is of no use as the hole slams shut breaking upon the woman. The pound of the hole's collapse on her body doesn't break bones but decimates her nonetheless. She spits up blood as the light wanes from her eyes, going from a strong white piercing bright to a more subtle version as she tries to stand up. The spear of light holding the druid down bursts into nothing as her concentration shatters.

  The druid is relieved as he is free of the searing pain that the continued pressure from the light spear brought unto him. He is angry and moves quickly to Laroux and kicks her in the face with his own foot. "DAMNED SCHOLARS OF MORNINGSONG!" He hollers as he stammers a bit the wounds still present on his body, both the spear wound and the knife in his chest. He recovers himself as he begins to channel a life-transfer spell. One that would steal and impute her life force into himself. "Seems I am the more masterful of the mystic arts." He calls as the channeling nears completion.

  "TSSSSSHH!" The druid looks down. The channeling ceases.

  "Forgot about me did you?" Djent calls as shoves the lance further through the Druid to fully penetrate his chest and out the other side. The druid starts screaming out insults, the knight will not have any of it as he moves his hands up the shaft of the spear, until he is touching the body of the druid who is now too injured to channel magic, but not enough to cease the berating of insults. Djent's hands work up the body of Yervin as he soon with his hands finds the man's head.

  "WHAT ARE YOU DOING 462?" Both hands of the blind man are now set to purpose.

  "SNAP!" The knight tenses his muscles so hard that Yervin's neck isn't just snapped, but fully turned 180 degrees around. The blind knight then shoves the body of the druid to the right away from Laroux. The barrier fades, no longer blocking the others from entering. The others don't rush in though as they seek to give the blind and the light-bringer a moment to themselves.

  "My lady, are you injured?" He leans forward and feels around on the ground trying to find Laroux. She is hurt, but still conscious. She reaches for his left hand and makes contact, then pulls it to her face. He touches her cheek with his hand.

  "I just need some rest is all." He feels the smile on her face. He smiles in return.

  "Well done." Parakles rides forward to formally introduce himself. Djent feels about and scoops Laroux up in his arms. She leans into his chest as he holds her close.

  "No thank you, brave paladin," Laroux speaks first though she keeps most of her face nuzzled close to the knight holding her as she is still in pain.

  "How do you know I'm a paladin?" The title was something new on the man and not yet dignified by a lord. He was confused as to how this woman knew.

  "There is light radiating from your core. It is obvious to a person like myself who channels light."

  "I don't understand, but I have never met a user of light force magic before." He is puzzled but shakes it off for a proper introduction. He dismounts his steed and ties him to a nearby wall column. "I am Parakles a Paladin knight, sworn of service to House Cavan of Runsa."

  "Parakles huh…..you even have a name to match your form. Powerful." Laroux speaks.

  "Does he my lady?" Djent straightens his head to look forward as if he still aims to see this man before him who liberated the labor camp. Even though he has no eyes he still stands prompt as if perhaps he can see something. Though he cannot. "Please describe him for me." He asks Laroux.

  She looks over to the Paladin and moves her eyes up and down before giving a reply. "He is slightly shorter than you Djent, but only slightly." Djent stood nearly 6'4 so this impressed him some as the man already of man of good stock. "He has a jaw like….like it was made to cut gemstones from rock. And is healthy in muscle." Somehow she could tell beneath the armor the paladin wore.

  "You sound quite the specimen Sir Parakles. I would have loved to challenge you prior to my unfortunate circumstances." Djent replied. He explained how his eyes left him. And how Laroux had been his salvation and healed him in his moment of defeat.

  "I am glad for both of your survival and will to fight," Parakles replied. "What may I call you both?" Siphon and Gina had found them by this point and joined the group interaction.

  "I am Laroux Morningsong, and this is Sir Djent sworn knight of House Flamingo of Lowell." Pleasantries were exchanged by all. Laroux recognized Siphon but could not quite put her finger on how exactly. She didn't bother bringing it up as she knew she needed to rest.

  "Nice to meet you two. Gage and Griff are gathering people up outside for the awaiting of your orders Anvil." Laroux and Djent wanted to hear more of what the lock-picker meant. "We have liberated this camp. Parakles is more than just the best of our party, he is our symbol to rally people behind."

  "Can one man absent a House name be so powerful?" Djent asked.

  "Of course. Just look at him." Siphon slapped himself in the face once he realized what he said. Djent decided to play along while chiding the man a little bit.

  "A little difficult for me to do these days seeing as I don't have eyes." He smirked letting all know that no offense was taken by the comment. Siphon thanked him for being so gracious of his error in speech.

  "We are rallying to now go and first free Burm, then to the coast with Madrol, and then back up through Lowell and Tripe to the halls of Dol itself. You both have fine abilities, will you stand with us."

  "I am sworn to House Flamingo of Lowell. If you intend to free the halls of my masters, then you have my spear, whatever value that grants you." Djent speaks with clarity and honor in his tone that only a seasoned knight bred for the code of valor and honor speaks with.

  "My house will not aid us so long as Burm is occupied. If we can set the mob upon the small detail on the city we should be able to gain the stronghold easily and the abilities of my house to rally further the cause."

  "Yes, but Morningsong….forgive me but your house are not warriors but scholars," Siphon states hoping to not offend.

  "Truth, my cousin is really limited in his practice as he focuses on servicing the people. Though all around Wiera on scattered research are other members of my house with far greater degrees of mastery. Mastery that eclipses what I am able."

  "All in the light discipline?"

  "A few are, but our family tries to have at least someone studying every art and discipline known."

  "So then are you with us Laroux Morningsong?" Parakles asks.

  "I am because Djent here is." She pats his chest. "I am his eyes now."

  The group exits the barrack halls, grabbing what food or needed dyes and materials are available in the building before they light it aflame in front of all the freed people of the camp. The prisoners stand both old and young, male and female, all stand as they look to the pillar of strength atop the hill from his steed. Parakles, with the barracks on fire behind him, has their focus.

  "YOU ARE FREE NOW. BUT OTHERS IN THIS WORLD ARE NOT AND STILL EXIST IN FEAR….OR THE BRUIN! WE ARE TO STORM BURM NEXT! JOIN US IF YOU WISH! JOIN US FOR AS LONG AS YOU SEE FIT. AND GO NO FURTHER THAN YOU DESIRE." The crowds near and far roar as men and women slam sticks and spears, short swords, and whatever tools they have from the quarry work against the rocks to signal their support.

  "We have an army now Parakles. It may not be strong but it will allow us to beat back the occupying Bruin forces." Siphon pats his friend on the leg who still stands on his horse.

  "I just pray we can give these people life, and not just a near death." He believes in the cause and has his purpose, to free the Cavan children and tear down the Bruin sigil and colors. But at what cost to these hungry people? He prays for wisdom as the people begin feasting and nourishing themselves. Washing and bathing without worry of near torment and labor. Some cloth themselves properly and even make dyes to remove the gold from the armor they take from the dead. They are….reborn.