Michael felt his heart drop as Stefan turned around. The smoke cleared, revealing the mage had casted a magical barrier in time to protect him and Rowe. Looking at the structure of the spell, it was falling apart like shattered glass. The mage was exhausted, having his skin covered in a thick ash as blood trickled down Rowe's head. If Stefan just had a bit more mana, he would have completely blasted them away.
Stefan raised his sword again, instinctively stepping in front of Michael.
The mage slammed his staff on the ground, commanding the surfacing roots to latch onto them.
Michael felt the roots try to wrap themselves over his body, just to fall limp and slide off like nothing had happened. He prepared to rush towards the mage but stopped. He looked over, watching the other half of the spell slither around to a different target.
Stefan tried to free himself but as the roots and vines pulled away his sword arm, there was no possible way he could escape.
Michael turned and slashed away the roots, desperately trying to free Stefan. Even if his magical sword would cut off the magic enveloping the roots, more would take its place given that they were in the prime grounds of nature. He watched the vines slither across through his body and tightened around his neck. The vines pulled down, forcing him on his knees as he gasped for air.
The rogue flanked from the side and tackled Michael to the ground. He pinned his arm with his knee and pressed away the other, holding a dagger just inches away from his neck.
The voice in Michael's head was incomprehensible. All he could focus on was how eerie the rogue's eyes looked.
"Shit—" Stefan croaked with his breath. "Damn it..."
Rowe looked down on him. "Release him."
"What?" the mage scoffed. "I thought we were going to kill him."
"We are, just not before he gets to suffer."
The vines pulled away, releasing their tight wrap around Stefan's body.
Stefan deeply gasped for air, coughing between his breaths and rolled on the ground.
Rowe picked him up by his hair and struck him across the face, imitating what happened back at the tavern.
Michael swung his body, shaking off the rogue on top of him. He sprung from the ground and ran towards Stefan.
The rogue tackled him again, driving him both to the grass. Michael wriggled around with his straining voice but he couldn't move. The rogue had his body weight pressed on top of him, it felt like his back was going to break if he kept trying to free himself.
Michael watched Stefan be beaten in front of him. The blood splattering across the scorched grass and the sounds as he tried to gasp between. He wanted to yell for help but nobody could possibly hear them in the uncharted.
Rowe pulled him again, raising his fist across. "Apologize to me, Stefan."
Stefan tilted his head.
"I'm waiting."
Stefan hoarsely chuckled in return. "Kiss my ass."
Rowe beat him again and with the final punch, he struck Stefan to the ground.
But Stefan still moved. Even if he was obviously being beaten, he still had some energy left to fight back.
Rowe sighed, wiping the sweat dripping from his brow. He kicked away Stefan's azure sword, taking the precaution if he really could move.
"Take them to that hole," he said. "We'll drop them in there."
Michael still squirmed around despite the losing situation. He couldn't witness any of this anymore. Stefan wasn't supposed to lose. He was the strongest warrior that Michael had ever seen and to see him reduced to this, only angered him more. Rowe didn't deserve nothing but pain. He was the center of all horrible adventurers combined. Whatever Stefan had done, this wasn't the way to punish his past.
Rowe noticed Michael's grunts. "What's wrong with him?"
"How should I know?" the rogue pressed down Michael's head. "He's crazy."
"Take away his sword."
Michael's eyes widened. All of his nerves were kickstarted, his heart was pounding faster, and the grip on his sword couldn't have been any tighter.
The rogue flipped him over and tried to take away his weapon.
Michael clenched his teeth. He couldn't swing his sword wide enough in an arc, the rogue was too close to him as they wrestled for control. It was an awkward fight but this mattered more than anything to him. He even felt the blood inside his mouth from biting his lip too hard.
Rowe sighed again. "What the hell are you two doing?"
"He won't—" the rogue growled. "Let go of your sword, you little runt!"
"No!" Michael yelled back. "Get off of me!"
Rowe stepped over, tired of watching them fight over something so pointless. He kicked Michael across the face and pulled his sword arm. Rowe was bigger than the rogue so he had no problem easily powering over someone small like Michael.
But Michael didn't let go. His deathly grip on his sword even rivaled over someone that was twice his size.
"Let go, boy," Rowe's face was cold. "Or, I'll break your damn arm."
"No!" he still refused. "You won't take her!"
"Kid…" Stefan muttered. "It's just a sword—"
"No, she's not!" his voice broke. "Don't take her away from me, please!"
Rowe groaned. "You asked for this."
"Rowe…" the mage stopped him. "He's just a child."
They turned their attention to Michael. He was sobbing. The sound of his cries had broken the tension of the fight that even Rowe and his party had forgotten the purpose of their goal. Michael's face was pressed to the ground as tears were streaming from his eyes. It was an unpleasant sight for all of them, hearing a young boy cry out loud.
Rowe scoffed again. "You think I care about something like that?"
"We're here for Stefan."
Rowe started to bend Michael's arm.
"Rowe!" the mage shouted louder. "Stop!"
He groaned, dropping Michael's hand to the ground. Then he stomped his hand over and over, weakening Michael's grip on his sword.
The mage winced, hearing Michael's sharp cries as his fingers started to grow limp around the hilt.
Rowe ripped the sword away from his trembling and contorted hand.
Michael felt his bond slip away. He couldn't hear her voice again. He watched Rowe walk away with her. Something burned deeply in his chest. It felt like his heart was being set on fire. The pain in his fingers started to grow numb. He sucked back in his tears and gritted his teeth.
The rogue was confused on where this sudden burst of strength was coming from.
Michael punched the rogue off of him. He ran for Rowe, locking his eyes on the sword in his hand.
Rowe turned around and kicked him back to the grass. He stomped Michael in the face and the world had gone black.
***
He woke up being dragged. His head was heavy and was continuously spinning. He felt like his own heart was ripped out of him.
"Drop them in here," a voice said. "Nobody would ever find them."
Michael heard something heavy drop under, bouncing off the deep walls and then a thud echoing into the air. But he followed right after, hearing the wind whistle in his ears then suddenly having his body tumble and finally slam into the blinding darkness. He felt like everything was sore by now if it wasn't before. His brain was playing through faint memories trying to remember what had led to him being here.
All he could remember was that he lost something important, like a part of himself taken away.
The voices above murmured as they faded. If this was death, then it was worse than he imagined.
Something also fell down, hearing the clink of metal come closer and rolling beside him. He couldn't tell if his eyes were opened. Everything had just seemed so pointless.
Another voice groaned beside him, much closer than he thought.
Michael still couldn't see anything through this darkness. He wasn't sure if that could've been another human or a hungry mana beast.
"Turn off that light," the voice groaned again. "I'm trying to sleep."
Michael didn't know what he was talking about. Until he turned his head and found the source of light glowing through the darkness. A gleaming golden sword, pulsating like a heartbeat, and resonated as if the weapon was calling his name. He crawled over and grabbed the sword's hilt with his only intact hand. He cried, clutching the golden sword to his chest, and apologized for everything.
The voice talking again in his mind and the feeling of the bond rushing through his body just pained him even more.
The other person beside him was Stefan. They had lost the fight against Rowe's party because Michael was an inconvenience. He stared back at the hole where they were thrown, trying to find out some way to climb out.
Stefan turned to Michael, noticing his unusually glowing sword. "Hey, kid."
Michael sniffled, wiping his tears away.
"Is your sword supposed to do that?"
He nodded.
"Well, it's the only way that we can see." Stefan coughed. "Could you point it around and find anything we can climb on?"
He thought it was even hard to stand in this uneven ground, let alone his weak and stumbling legs. He slowly walked around the cave, holding his glowing sword forward to light the way.
Stefan wasn't in any better shape but he was awake enough to point out any possible ways they could get out. But the walls were too jagged and steep to climb, it was practically impossible for them to even climb in the conditions they were in. He suspected that they could have been inside a vacant mana beast's nest but it had moved away a long time ago.
Because if it was still here, Stefan and Michael would have already been eaten alive.
Michael limped back under the hole and sat against the cave's wall. He didn't want to explore deeper, despite the small burrows that led into other paths.
Stefan still laid on the ground staring at the skies. It must have been turning night, judging how little sunlight they were about to get.
"They'll find us," he said. "We should have returned from our shift by now, then they'll figure out something's wrong. Trust them, kid, Ellis is going to find us."
Michael held the sword close to his chest.
Stefan saw his desperation. "You really love that sword."
Michael almost cried again. Love was almost an understatement to him. He didn't want them to be separated again. It was a horrible feeling.
Then there was silence. Nothing but the droning hum coming from the glowing sword that was their only source of light. Michael imagined shouting voices from above, calling their names and dropping a rope down to rescue them. But the more that he thought about that, the more miserable he became.
He couldn't save Evelyn from anything. He was just so utterly weak all the time and he's sick of it. Why was she even bonded with someone like him?
Don't say that, the voice said, please.
Michael plopped to the ground with tears running down the side of his face.
She appeared beside him, a ghostly apparition of her face as she tried to wipe his tears away. Her fingers only passed through his skin.
But Michael thought he still felt her touch. It was warm, like he imagined the nights when they were together. He felt his eyes turn heavy and his mind dropping out of his body. He wanted to hug her again, he wanted to bury himself in her arms so he could just apologize to her. She must have been just as scared being separated from him and it's always his fault.
Nothing can hurt me, she said, not when I'm a sword.
He knows that. It was just the feeling of their bond being ripped from each other that scared him. He knows that she feels the same even if she's trying to be tough for Michael.
She looked at his bruised and drowsy face.
The reason why he was so obsessed with becoming stronger was because he was so utterly in love with Evelyn.
But how could he ever help someone else, if he couldn't even help himself?
His eyes started to close while he looked into her beautiful golden eyes. Even if he was stuck in a deep cave in the middle of the uncharted, it was at least nice to see her face again when he was falling asleep. He promised her, in his mind, that they would return home. Then, he would tell her everything he felt about her.