The Arena

The Light

Tellor yelled and banged at the door with all his might, until his voice was almost gone and his fists started bleeding.

As soon as he stopped, a heavy silence engulfed him, making the darkness surrounding him ten times worse. He had woken up here and felt as if the Earth had swallowed him whole and he was now waiting for death to come and take him away. But he couldn’t die now. Alera was waiting for him.

He realised he was breathing heavily, as if he was one breath away from a panic attack, so first he would have to calm down. He sat on the cold floor, slowly counting down the seconds and taking big breaths of air, and little by little, his heartbeat and his thoughts slowed down allowing him to think and analyse his situation.

His best friend's actions gnawed at him, at the back of his head, while he started healing his fists.

A small, warm light covered his hand, filling the room and dispelling some of the darkness around him. Asendriels words came back to him and Tellor almost laughed at them…the best punishment would be to deprive him of the Light. Did he not know that the Light would always be with him? It wasn't as if it was powered by the sun. It was powered by his spirit and sense of justice.

Using the delicate light, Tellor started looking around the chamber for anything that could help him get out. He was concerned about Alera and he didn't even want to think what Baruing might do to her. The situation looked terribly bleak for both of them. While he couldn’t forgive him for his actions, Asendriel would have to wait for now.

He kept his spell up, while he looked around the floor, but he only saw rubble here and there. He went, then, to inspect the door. It had a few cracks, but without something sharp, there was no way to break through such a heavy wooden door.

Trying not to get discouraged, Tellor went on to check the wall, on both sides of the door. At first he didn't find anything either. The wall seemed to have been carved directly into the earth, as the floor, but moving to the other side of the door, he gasped in surprise.

He couldn't believe it, but moving his light closer, in a lower corner, he could see a few badly scribbled words, carved directly into the wall. It was tough to read with lines and characters overlapping, but following them with his fingers he could make up a short phrase: freedom is at your feet.

The message was in thalassian, the blood elves' language and his heart started pounding in his chest, as his eyes went slowly, from the message to his feet.

It was barely visible, but the floor looked as if it had been moved. His hands started trembling as he gently moved the dirt away and after a few minutes, his fingers clenched onto something. Pulling it out of the dirt, his eyes widened as he began to understand.

It was a key. A large, metallic key, like the ones he saw the guards carry. Asendriel words came back to him...devoid him of the light...darkness…

He sent him here on purpose! The message was most likely written by him, in the dark!

Tellor felt his head spinning for a moment so he sat down, trying to grasp everything that was going on as it seemed impossible. The message in their native tongue...the master key that Asendriel tried to steal during the battle royale...well, apparently he succeeded in getting one. And it was now, in his hands!

He almost started laughing, gripping the key as if he was afraid it might be an illusion, but the cold metal soothed him. He couldn't help it, but chuckled with relief at the thought that his friend was no traitor. He would have to give him a piece of his mind when they would meet again.

Without wasting another second, he got up and he fit the key in the door and turned it. The first step to freedom.