Anima et Forma

Episode 19: The Confrontation

The Arrival in 1277 ended Felix III's conquest of the coastal city-states. Mistaking the Elves as foreign mercenaries, Felix ordered an immediate assault, hoping to drive the devils back into the sea. To the young general's dismay, his men were the ones forced to retreat, losing much of the land they had just conquered on their march through Milanis Duchy. This planted a deep resentment toward the elves that Burgundian Dukes harbored for generations.

—Brother Donnman, of the Holy Order, "A Brief History of the Western Kingdoms." 1531 A.D.

"Where's Ninathril?" Ardwin whispered. They moved down a long hall. He'd been dragged down this path before. Ardwin took another drink from the flask Murph had given him."Murph?"

"Father Herman keeps it with him," Murphrey said. "They'll be coming for you soon. We have about an hour to take care of Keya and get out of here. I have a strong alibi but must return to the monastery when news of Keya's death arrives." He stepped a little faster, pushing their pace. Ardwin struggled to keep up.

"What about the other sword? The rapier?" Ardwin asked.

"Keya is our magic expert," Murph said. "She's been studying your gear with a passion I've never seen before. I didn't ask for the rapier because it left her something to occupy her mind. What does it do anyway?"

Or to give me more reason to cooperate. "You'll see," Ardwin said. He hoped Keya hadn't learned the sword's secret, either.

"Are you gonna use it on me?" Murph, rubbing the nape of his shaved neck with his right hand, spoke over his shoulder. "I know you're not afraid of stabbing someone in the back. Mine still hurts, you know?"

Ardwin had forgotten about the attack. His cheeks flushed. "Sorry." The medicine of the flask invigorated Ardwin. He felt stronger–safer–beneath his magical cloak. The ripped section was entirely gone. Did Keya mend it? It usually takes longer for it to mend itself. They approached the spiraling stairwell leading to the torture chamber. Ardwin's recuperating body anticipated the pain. Her knowledge and power are beyond anything I've ever encountered.

Can we win?

They stopped at the top of the stairwell. Ardwin drew in the last few drops of Murph's concoction, then tucked the empty flask into the waistband of his breeches. The liquid dulled his pain but sharpened his awareness. Murph turned to study him. "There's only one way in and one way out. Remember: the stone is important. I'm not sure if it enhances her power or if it's the source of her power, but I've seen her work before. She always wears that stone. At the very least, separating her from the stone may weaken her."

"How do we separate them?" Ardwin asked.

"We'll find a way," Murph replied. He placed a hand on Ardwin's shoulder. "There's no hope for a surprise attack. She'll hear us coming from a mile away. Are you ready for this?" Ardwin nodded, then followed Murph down the steps.

The enormous iron door waited, unguarded. Murphrey presented the key, turned over the lock with a loud clank, then pushed it open. Rusted hinges squealed. He marched into the torture chamber and stood at the ledge of the extended platform overlooking the room. Ardwin stepped beside him. Blood-stained chairs and tables sat uninhabited.

They wasted no time descending the elevator. Ardwin kept his dagger in hand, tucked away behind the folds of his cloak, thumb pressed against its sharpened pommel.

On the lower floor, they crossed the chamber toward the rows of bookshelves and the torturer's study. Ardwin eyed the chair he'd sat in while witnessing elvish magic for the first time. The white-haired elf appeared, as expected, from behind a tall shelf lined with thick tomes. She moved with the practiced grace of an immortal. The tail of her red robe did not sweep the floor but glided just over the stones. "I've been expecting you." She eyed Murph, then turned her gaze upon Ardwin. "Welcome back."