The fight was postponed as their cages were lowered to the ground.
The crowd threw trash and stones to the fighters, chanting:
"More runes!"
"Fight!"
"Where's our fight!"
As if demanding a reward for something.
Once on the ground floor, a hidden door opened. Wilson had barely noticed it. He figured it was for the very purpose. Or maybe a different one since the Badlanders took over.
Knights poured from the tunnels spears and magic at their disposal.
The bell stopped tolling, Wilson noticing the shapeshifter fall to the ground before the dead halfling.
They looked in total shock. The knights tugged them back, their heels scraping at the sand.
A few guards grabbed the two of them from their cage.
Wilson didn't fight back, avoiding a probe from a sharpened spear. He got one in the side despite it. The guards pushed him toward the darkened stronghold.
There was a burst of curses, all of them turning to see Argo fighting against the guards. A few watchers from above screamed in glee, as if he would escape and start a new fight.
The halfling breathing out a gust of smoke into the guard's face.
The guard jumped back, blinded. He cut at their faces before they locked his arms behind his back with a chain leading him into a second darkened cavern.
Should they have fought back like Argo had?
Oops, he thought, too late for that.
The stronghold's halls were long and complicated, every bend revealing more and more darkness.
Light came from only torches, no windows or views to bring in the light. Every bend looked exactly the same.
Wilson figuring that they were to confuse any fighters that somehow managed their way out.
Unfortunately, it was burning up with the arrangement.
Wilson shrank back at the sight of the black door at the end of the hallway.
On occasion, he'd shoot a look at Emmy, just to ensure they weren't harming her.
He received a jab for it.
"Keep moving." The knight hissed.
The guards pushing open the wide door, stepping into a room surrounded with stained glass windows.
Their colorful shapes illuminated the room, blinking away the darkness.
Papers scattered the floors, shelves leaned against the walls, and a view of the kingdom lay before him.
It was almost magnificent.
Alastair sat at the equally messy desk.
Tens of ravens sat on the chairs and shelves beside her.
The guards tossed Wilson forward; the mind reader beside him falling to her knee in a bow.
"Well, someone knows how to greet a queen," Alastair commented, looking back at Wilson.
He scoffed, "I will never bow for you."
Alastair rolled her eyes and with a quick 'snap' of her fingers and Wilson fell to the ground in a similar bow.
Magic. Controlling magic.
From a different door, Argo was thrown into the room.
Through muffled screams and struggles, the chains unraveling from around his arms.
YOU ARE READING
The Magic Of An Alter Ego.
Fantasy|Book 1 of 2| Wilson had his hopes high for his future. Emphesis on had. He'd already made the grades in his local college, studied as much magic as he could despite being unable to truely use it to his advantage, and had his sights on one day join...
