Chapter 13

Chapter

Thirteen

Alexandru

T he stone walls of the stronghold press against me, cold and relentless, echoing the defeat that weighs heavily on my soul. The chill in the air mirrors the hollow emptiness in my chest, yet within that void, the image of Eleanna burns fiercely—a vision of fiery red hair and eyes as clear and blue as the summer sky. The thought of her vibrant spirit possibly subdued at Catarina's cruel hand sends a sharp pain through me.

My hands clench involuntarily, the leather of my gauntlets stretching and groaning, a futile attempt to grasp the fading echoes of Eleanna's presence. Each creak of the leather is a whisper of her name, a reminder of what I've lost, of the failure that clings to me like a shadow.

The mere thought of Eleanna's fiery spirit extinguished under Catarina's backstabbing twists a knife in my gut.

Ivan's gaze is steady, troubled. "Your orders?"

"We stop at nothing. We get her back."

The man nods and I note Nadia is in here, too.

The doors open and Nicolai and Marianne come in.

"General." Nicolai's voice cuts through the silence, Marianne standing resolutely at his side.

Nicolai steps up to me. "General. Our spies state that Eleanna's being held in the dungeons, and she's still alive."

His news hits me like a punch to the gut, setting my pulse racing.

It's not over yet.

"Still alive…" My voice sounds hoarse with disbelief and hope warring within me.

Dare I believe it? Dare I hope?

Marianne's gaze is unwavering as she speaks. "We need your leadership now more than ever, General Amanar. We'll stand by your side once more."

Conflicting emotions assault my mind—the desire to right the wrongs done to Eleanna battling against the fear of facing Catarina's wrath again. But deep down, I know there's only one choice.

I rise from the solitary bench, the weight of leadership settling on my shoulders once more. Every fiber of my being screams for action, to tear through the night and reclaim what is ours. The poison may be slow acting, but time is a luxury we don't have. My mind races, strategizing, calculating.

"We must move swiftly, strike hard." With a steely resolve, I meet their eyes. "Prepare the troops. We ride at dawn."

"We won't let you down, General," Marianne says, her tone steady as bedrock.

"Nor will the enemy live to see another dawn," Nicolai adds, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "The items you gathered to bring down Catarina."

I clench my hand. "We take them, use them if the opportunity arises."

Once we get her back.

"We fight as always by your side, my liege," Ivan says firmly. "I'll start prep?—"

"General?" The small, quiet voice of Eleanna's maid interrupts him and I turn. Her eyes are red but her mouth isn't trembling and I can see why my Queen keeps her around. The bravery makes her step forward and lift her head to me. "I must speak."

Ivan turns to her, his glower formidable. "This is warcraft. You're not involved."

Their loyalty is the anvil upon which my resolve is forged. With one accord, we will assail Catarina's fortress, wrench Eleanna from the jaws of death, and restore her to her rightful throne. Failure is not an option. For her, I will wage war against fate itself.

But the girl doesn't leave. "You can't use the ingredients."

"We'll do what's necessary," I say.

"Not that." Her gaze doesn't drop. "I want her back too, but...it must be Eleanna, not you. The witch didn't name a payment, just said the Queen would know it when it came time. Do you understand? She must do it right, instinctively."

I exchange a look with the others. "Then we'll bring them for Eleanna."

"Please don't. I beg… We don't want anything going wrong," she says.

I want to smash something. As if things aren't already wrong but Ivan nods at me and I swallow my sigh. "Very well, we'll bring her back, if we can. Now go, we have much to prepare."

The girl nods and leaves.

After gathering my most skilled and loyal warriors, Nicolai, Ivan, Marianne, and I stand at the center of our stronghold's grand hall. The dim light from the torches highlights their determined faces.

"Tonight, we infiltrate Catarina's castle," I say, my voice echoing off the stone walls. "Silence and stealth will be our allies."

Nicolai steps forward. "The secret passage remains unguarded?"

I nod, reaching for my sword. The familiar hilt is cold and reassuring against my skin. "Only a few know of its existence. We'll slip through the dungeon undetected."

Marianne moves her hand to her quiver, checking the fletching on her arrows with meticulous care. "We should prepare for close-quarter combat." Then she picks up her sword.

"Keep your blades sharp and your senses sharper," I add, locking eyes with each of them in turn. "This is not just a rescue…it's retribution."

With a nod, we set into action. The sound of metal against whetstone permeates the air as we sharpen our weapons, the smell of oiled leather mixing with the cold draft that slips through the doors. I slide into my darkened armor, each piece a second skin wrought from countless battles.

Outside, the stables echo with the restless snorts of our horses. We saddle them quickly and feed them before the long, hard ride ahead. I mount my steed, its powerful muscles tensing beneath me. As one, we ride out into the night, the moon above casting a haunting glow over the shaky terrain ahead.

"Keep close," I say above the biting wind. "Eyes open for patrols."

"Understood, General Amanar." Ivan's figure is a ghostly silhouette against the snow-laden landscape.

Each hoofbeat is muffled by the fresh snow, yet the pounding thunders in my chest. Our path is full of hidden dangers—patches of ice that could send a horse sprawling, sudden drop-offs concealed by the deceptive whiteness. Yet, we press on, driven by the urgency that pumps through my veins like fire. We move only forward, into whatever hell awaits us.

"Through the valley." I lead the way down a narrow ravine on my stallion, the cliffs rising like lofty sentries on either side.

"Let's hope the darkness shields us," Marianne whispers, her bow ready.

It isn't long before the imposing silhouette of Eleanna's stolen castle looms ahead. The ground outside is still blood soaked with bits of gore embedded into the hard-packed ice ground, a reminder of the last battle we fought and lost.

Dismounting, we leave our horses behind.

I glance at my companions, and their faces are set in grim obstinacy. We edge toward the castle unseen. Slipping through the secret doorway and through a dark passage, known only to a trusted few, we find ourselves within the bowels of the castle. The air here is thick with the stench of despair, the stones cold and unyielding beneath our boots.

"Stay alert." I lead our small contingent deeper into the tunnel. "Catarina has ears in every shadow."

"The soul collectors await any who stand against us," Nicolai whispers in the darkness.

The farther we venture, the more oppressive the silence becomes, broken only by the distant drip of water and our measured footsteps. Every echo is a potential alarm, every shifting shadow a harbinger of doom.

"Eleanna," I breathe, her name a prayer against the darkness that seeks to crush us. Her image, fierce and beautiful, burns behind my lids, powering my every step.

Ivan's gaze is unwavering in the dim light. "General Amanar, we're with you till the end."

"Until the end, my friends." My heart steels itself for what we may find. Eleanna, dead or alive…

We advance, the weight of responsibility pressing on my shoulders. Each step forward is a struggle against the rush of fear that threatens to consume me. The dungeon's chill seeps into my bones, yet it's nothing compared to the ice in my veins at the thought of finding Eleanna too late.

I adjust the grip on my sword. "Keep your eyes sharp."

"Always, my liege," Ivan replies, his voice steady, a counterpoint to the chaos swirling within me.

I nod, not daring to speak further, lest my voice betray the turmoil that claws at my insides. Every nerve in my body screams for action, to break through the walls and tear apart anyone who dares harm her. Eleanna, my Queen, the flame that ignites my soul—even now, with her fate unknown, she drives me forward.

The corridor narrows as we approach the dungeon at long last. Each cell door we pass is a reminder of what's at stake. Eleanna could be behind any of them, her strength sapped by poison and imprisonment.

"Stay ready," Marianne whispers fiercely from behind.

Nicolai looks at us all. "Death before dishonor."

My heart hammers against my ribs as we reach the last cell. This is it—the moment where hope either flourishes or dies an agonizing death. The door looms before us, a mocking barrier to the truth I both crave and fear.

Ivan rests his hand on my shoulder, grounding me. "General Amanar?"

"Open the door." My words are a growl, barely escaping clenched teeth.

We stand united, poised on the precipice of revelation. There's no turning back now.

Ivan thrusts the door wide, the metal grinding in protest as if sharing our hesitation. I step forward, my eyes piercing the darkness for any sign of her. But the cell is stark, barren—devoid of life.

"Eleanna!" My soft call is a desperate invocation, one that goes unanswered.

The emptiness of the chamber claws at me, an abyss pulling me into its void. The space where she should be—a space now filled with nothing but the ghost of my fears—gnaws at the edges of my composure. I search every shadow, but there's only the cruel confirmation of her absence. Not even a whisper of her remains, and the silence is a torment all its own.

"Damn it!" I clench my hands so tight they tremble. This was supposed to be the end of our quest, not another torturous beginning.

"Alexandru..." Marianne's voice holds a note of caution, warning me away from the precipice of rage.

"Spread out," I say, my voice a blade cutting through the fog of confusion. "Search every godforsaken inch of this place. She must be here."

They move instantly, a flurry of silhouettes against stone, scouring the dungeon for any trace, any clue that might have been overlooked. But deep down, I know it's futile. Catarina must've anticipated a rescue and moved my beloved elsewhere.

"General. She is not to be found. I'm sorry." Nicolai stands firm, his eyes reflecting the same ferocity that rages within me. "This changes nothing. We will find her."

"Find her?" I spit out the words like poison. "She's not here because of me. My failure."

"Enough of that bullshit," Ivan says. "We're in this together, remember? For you, my liege. For the realm."

"Yes, yes, of course." The words are like a shard of glass, a focus point.

This isn't just about power, about claiming victory over Catarina. To me, it's about love—my rediscovered love for Eleanna. I won't let this be the end. I can't.

"Then we keep looking," I say, my determination hardening. "We turn over every stone until we find her. And when we do, Catarina will pay in blood for her deception."

The last part goes without saying. Catarina's end is the original mission, but now it's superseded by finding Eleanna. Nods of agreement meet my declaration, a mighty pact forged in the depths of desperation and resolve. We will bring Eleanna back, whatever it takes.

If I was alone, I'd take off, rip the castle apart until I found her. But I'm not, and there's a deeper mission, one Eleanna would never forgive me for if I ignored it. With a heavy bitterness to my resolve, I look at my team.

"Let's return home." The weight of leadership settles on me once more, transformed now by a purpose renewed—not just a general fighting a war, but a man battling for the heart that beats in tandem with his own.

Our boots scrape against the stone floor as we head for the exit.

The oppressive air of the dungeon clings to my skin as we move silently, a pack of vampires denied their victims.

Suddenly from the dark, several of Catarina's sentries appear and block our path.

"General Amanar! To arms!" Nicolai's voice is sharp as he draws his blade in one swift motion.

Catarina's vampire guards' fangs are bared, eyes burning with bloodlust. In an instant, swords swing, and the clamor rings through the underground corridor.

"Damn these leeches!" Marianne's curse is almost drowned out by the sound of her sword cleaving into flesh, splattering blood across the stones.

I surge forward toward the nearest guard. My blade sings its violent tune, finding its mark in his chest. He snarls, trying to retaliate, but I'm faster. I rip my sword free, and his body crumples to the ground, a grotesque puppet severed from its strings.

"Behind you!" Ivan's warning comes just in time.

I pivot, parrying a strike that would have spelled my end. Our swords lock, and I can smell the stench of decay on his breath. With a roar, I summon all my strength and shove him back before bringing my blade down in a vicious arc.

"Where are they coming from?" Nicolai dispatches another guard with a precise thrust.

I grunt, my voice a growl of fury. "Just send them all to hell!"

The vampire guards are relentless in their attack. But with our own inhuman vampire strength, we fight them off, each battle cry and spray of blood inspires our determination. Our movements are honed by years of training and tempered by the heat of battle.

The vampire guards press on relentlessly, their red eyes gleaming with malice as they seek to overwhelm us with sheer numbers. But we are warriors forged in the crucible of war, unyielding in our defiance against those who would seek to snuff out the light.

With every strike and parry, we push back against the surplus of evil that threatens to engulf us. The rhythm of combat pulses through my veins, driving me forward.

Nicolai, Ivan, and Marianne face the vampire guards with an inhuman blur of blades. The atmosphere is infused with the meeting of swords and the grunts and snarls of relentlessness.

"Keep them off me!" Marianne's voice soars above the impact of weapons as she fends off two attackers at once.

Ivan's sword blurs in a flurry of movement as he moves to assist her. "I've got your back!"

Besieged on all sides, we stand back-to-back, a fortress of flesh and bone.

"Take heart, my comrades! For vengeance!" My cry echoes through the cavernous space.

Blood coats our hands and arms, a crimson stain.

"Watch out!" Ivan's warning barely precedes a guard's lunge toward my throat.

With a swift sidestep, I easily evade the attack and retaliate by sending him crashing into the wall where he sprawls to the ground.

"Eleanna, this is for you," I hiss as my blade finds another victim.

The guards are faltering, their numbers dwindling under our onslaught.

"Alexandru! To your left!" Nicolai shouts just in time for me to pivot and block a fatal swipe aimed at my side.

With a powerful thrust forward, I end the threat.

The last of Catarina's guards crumples to the ground, his life extinguished. Silence descends upon us, broken only by our heavy breathing. We stand at the heart of the ruin, victorious yet hollow.

"Let's move out," Marianne says, her voice edged with fatigue, yet the steel in her gaze remains unyielding.

I nod, exhaustion mixed with the failure to find Eleanna weighing heavy on my chest. "We might have failed tonight, but we'll regroup and plan our next step."

"Eleanna needs us," Ivan says, wiping his sword clean on a fallen guard's cloak. "She's alive, it's why she's not here or?—"

"Her head on a pike, which Catarina would do. I won't rest until she's free," I say, the urgency of our mission burning like a flame within me. "Catarina will pay for her taking what belongs to me."

Nicolai nods. "We shall return to strike hard, fast, and without mercy."

"Every second counts," I remind them. The thought of Eleanna suffering ignites a fire inside me. "We regroup, resupply, and return with an army."

I lead the way out of the castle, the cold air of winter sharp on our faces. Our horses await, nickering and prancing nervously. After mounting up, we gallop into the night, whispering of wars yet to come.

Every fallen foe brings me closer to her. And I will stop at nothing until she is found.