Eli had stared at the message, confused. This story was supposed to be over, so what did they mean by tutorial? But that question could wait. Right now, finding Arlo was all that mattered. It was her only link to the real world outside.
It had been more than thirty minutes, and Eli hadn't found a single clue. The two guards Callisto had sent were also combing through the halls or at least pretending to do so. None of them had the faintest idea what they were supposed to be looking for, only that their princess had ordered it. They followed a few meters behind her, whispering among themselves, trying their best, not to look completely lost.
Squeak!
The sharp sound of metal grinding and a latch snapping open echoed from the lower level. All three of them jolted at the sudden sound that broke the silence that had lingered until now. Especially Eli, she flinched and caused her candle to nearly slip from her grasp.
Eli quickly ducked behind their nearest columns, peering down toward the lower level until the far end of corridor when she heard something in the atmosphere. As the sound of footsteps echoed closer, she hastily snuffed out her candle before its light could betray her, leaving only the dim wall lanterns to light the area.
She spotted a man below moving confidently as he examined his surroundings. Something about him caught her attention enough to make her decide to follow him. She raised a finger to her lips, signaling the guards hiding behind another column to stay silent and move with her.
***
Earlier that night, Drayce had slipped into the wing where the worst prisoners were kept blending in with the guards on duty. But he did not find Rhiven there.
"Aye, can't say I'll miss that bastard," one of the guards muttered, scraping at a dent in his breastplate. "This whole mess could've been avoided if he'd kept his damn hands to himself." He had a broken nose with a strip of plaster crooked across it, and his voice came out slightly nasal from the blocked air passage.
"Who's that now?" Drayce asked idly biting into the hard biscuit that was passed for supper. He noticed that a few of the guards around him had fresh, minor injuries.
An average looking man beside him gave a low whistle and placed his right hand over Drayce's shoulder, his fingers resting a little too close to his chest. "You've not heard it yet? Ah!" He scoffed and looked at Drayce up and down. "Figures. That's what's wrong with the low ranks." His eyes dragged over Drayce's worn cloak which indicated his position, judging him.
He moved his face dangerously close to Drayce, who kept his gaze coldly forward chewing his morsel slowly, and he whispered loudly in his face, "This son of a gun probably sweet-talked his way into this spot.…but don't think your pretty a** will save you when the real shit hits." He licked his lower lip while his gaze lingered on Dracye, smirking as the others laughed all the while his hand rested heavily on Drayce's chest.
"But tension like this? Your seniors will bail you out. If you ever need a hand, you can always come and give me a hand and more. I would like to use you to my fullest to please the work I want to be." he continued, smiling widely.
"You dirty good-for-nothing &%%#$#*@!!! John, cut it out or I will punch your guts out. Leave the lad be before someone reports the higher-ups."
"Tsk...always a mood killer."
"Since you are a pretty boy and I am in a generous mood tonight, you can enjoy it for now." He pulled his hand away and held Drayce with his eyes for an extended beat. "Explain him, Tom!"
"Y-yes, sir. The one sir Tarris mentioned is the one who went for the Princess in the forest. Didn't get far, though. He was shifted recently, you know where? To the Wolves' Lair." Tom explained, exhaling after the final words left his lips.
Another guard barked a short laugh. "Ohh-ohhh that one, yes, yes… That one was a tough bastard — we don't see iron like that no more."
A third spat near the fire. "Aye, and good riddance. The wild wolves would've done better with him than the kennels ones." Although they were underground there were proper channels for circulation of air, making the fire and breathing possible.
"Ha! Wolves'd choke on him," John said, tugging at his gauntlet straps. " It took five men just to pin him down. He broke Tarris's nose, too. You'd think he was made of plate under that skin."
"Did he open his mouth, say anything?" asked someone back to John. "Before they dragged him off?"
"Not much," came the reply. "Just kept staring and smiling wildly like a madman, quiet as death. He didn't even scream when they tortured him. Thinking about it still gives me the shivers."
"Could be he's possessed," the first guard muttered after finishing his biscuits and looking slightly eerie. "There's talk he ain't quite right. Where would he get that much strength, he was not fed for four days."
"Bah," another scoffed. "You and your bloody stories. This man now says everyone's possessed after his claim of seeing a lone women in the woods." Laughter rippled through the group. Meanwhile, Drayce watched as one after another of the men gathered around talking and resting between their duties.
Now past midnight, he moved in the direction where he had caught a hint of animal feces being discarded. He had been alone until now, but he noticed three figures following him. They kept their distance making no move to close in; they just kept trailing him silently.
Given the opportunity he would have killed them. Maybe later, he thought to himself.
He came across a corridor that split in four directions. He looked to his right and then his left and then right again. He needed to take the left, but he deliberately stepped to the right. With every step he took forward to walk past the lanterns that were burning on the walls the three shadows followed him, being aware of that he now had a cold smile fixed in his face.
Drayce then turned to his right again into a dark and narrow corridor with no lanterns. The shadows followed him without any hesitation and kept moving ahead. When they passed through the dark corridor and were out of sight, a figure dropped silently from the narrow roof above in the mid of dark corridor. Drayce had used all of his four limbs as hooks and pressed himself flat against the ceiling to stay hidden.
Then he turned around and retraced his steps toward the four-way corridor. Once there, he finally took the left corridor as he had intended from the start.
After ten minutes, he stood before an empty corridor. The stench of feces was strongest here. Drayce was sure there had to be a door somewhere; even the few footprints ended at this spot. The place looked like any other dimly lit corridor and could easily be mistaken for a solid wall, but a single stone marked with a small light carving of a wolf gave it away.
Drayce's eyes scanned the wall closely until he noticed a faint trace of an ancient magic charm. Magic was rare now. Only one out of hundred million people in this world had ever got a chance to encounter it and thus magic was dismissed as a myth. But he knew better than anyone. A tinge of magic still lingered in this world.
He clenched his jaw as he recognized what it was and what is needed to activate it.
"Goddamn it! So close!" he muttered to himself tightening his fist. It was almost impossible for him to meet the conditions needed to open the door.
He exhaled slowly but froze as a cold steel kissed the base of his spine. His eyes darkened instantly and murder flashed through them like a reflex.
He had purposefully thrown the people following him off his trail and made sure no one was stalking him. So how had he missed a presence this close? Was he that lost in locating the gate? he wondered, cursing himself under his breath.
"Raise your hands. Slowly." A soft voice spoke from his behind. "Who are you? " she asked.
"I also was wondering, what little rat was sneaking around here. " he replied raising his hands up all along his voice and demeaner was calm, callous and amused. It was not as he was the one being held at knifepoint, but rather he was the one still in control.
Waah… he's the one lurking around here, and he's got the audacity to ask me that, she thought, pressing the dagger lightly against his back. She had no real intention of using it, but decided to put on a show anyway.