In book four of the Torrent Skies Saga, Kryrial is scouring the lands, tormenting not only the people of his kingdom but those outside of it. His reach is nearly as vast as his ability.
Lodyne continues her insistence that she is the purpose of Kat...
As Kindra wiped blood from her flail, Telemir paced in front of a cell door, muttering to himself, keys in hand. He had tried simply unlocking the door, but had explained that there were enchantments blocking him from opening it. This was the cell that held Kieneltra and Rykir.
The guard had been too afraid to lie to them. It was Kindra's experience that most people favored honesty in their last moments. She bared her teeth. "Will you hurry? We can't stay down here forever."
Telemir let out a soft sigh, his muttering ceasing. "I'm trying! Dispelling this isn't some simple—"
"You can't just wave your finger at it?" Kindra arched an eyebrow.
"No," he hissed, exasperated. "Just... watch the hall, please."
Kindra shrugged, and turned away from him, towards the single torch by the door to the stairway. The hall was a narrow, damp thing. And it was warm down here. Warmer then Kindra felt it should have been. It seemed like minutes passed as she calmed, her heart returning to its normal thrum. When she was not staring hopefully at the door for the chance at another fight, she stared at the dungeon ceiling. Katerin was up there, trying to fight a dragon. And she was... she was doing what she usually did. Babysitting mages.
To be fair, without Telemir, getting Kieneltra and Rykir out could have been impossible, but still. She would rather be fighting. Be useful. Telemir had insisted that saving the princess was a nobler feat, but she had no cares for nobility. Her finger's tapped her flail's handle with impatience. She flicked a gaze to her companion.
Telemir had stopped pacing, and had both of his hands on the cell door, chanting under his breath.
So gods-dammed slow. There were better things to be... the floor rumbled, the drip of water in the hall's corner quickened, as the walls seemed to shake. Her breath caught. "Are you done yet?"
Telemir took in a breath as if he had not had one in ages, and his eyes met hers, wide with concern. "Mhm." He pulled the lock free, and wrenched on the door with a mighty heft. It overbalanced him and left him sliding with the heavy door.
Kindra gripped her weapon tight, as the floor shook again. She looked into the cell.
Bound with metal, and chained to the walls, Kieneltra and Rykir were there, dirty and sallow looking.
The princess squinted, and she turned her head away, speaking in soft tones. "Whats happening? Where are you—" her eyes seemed to focus on Kindra and Telemir in the doorway, and her mouth fell open.
"We're getting you out," Telemir said, stepping forward as if to work on their bindings. Kindra huffed and stepped in first. With the haft of her weapon, she split the chain links that kept them in the room. "Worry about those later," she said, gesturing to the manacles. "We need to go."
Telemir ushered them out, and Kindra took the lead, shoulder's straight and weapon forward, leading a princess and a boy from a dungeon. She paid no heed to the corpses she passed as they left. She felt sorry for the bastards, sure, but what they did was done. And Katerin was fighting a dragon without her.
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