Chapter 46

In a disorganized whirl, Arcturus found himself dragged through Entis castle, images, sights, and sounds merging into a chaotic blur. The stun of the energy crossbow kept him numb, rendering him unable to feel the firm grip of his captors. Amidst fleeting moments of clarity, haunting memories of the past hour flooded his mind—the tortured screams of his friends, their agonies distilled into mana stones.

Once again, Arcturus found himself surrounded by the weight of failure, the burden of souls he had let down pressing heavily upon him. Memories of the burning street flooded his mind, Geoffrey's desperate screams echoing in his ears as he held him, helpless to provide the aid he needed. He cursed himself for relying on Gus and Matilda, for in their kindness, they had made themselves targets. As he regained consciousness, he found himself no longer in the Lich's vault, but instead in Entis' Throne room.

He was on his knees upon the deep earthen rug that ran the length of the hall, leading up to the throne. His hands were secured behind him with cold manacles, paladins on either side of him pressing down upon him with unyielding strength. With a darkened heart he searched tapestries and statues that adorned the perimeter, symbols of human and gryphon kind’s unity that had once filled him with honor and pride. Now they sat as hallowed shells, unable to perceive the twisted visage their hopeful dream had become.

Before him was the heart of the corrupt dream, Cornellius himself with his receding hairline tinted with grey, standing tall with a smile and the same aura of authority that he always exuded. He was among the paladins, wrapped in a deep brown robe, decorated with a mantle that sported sections of golden embroidery that flickered in the mana lantern’s light. Eyes were wide as he pressed a tender hand to Arcturus’ onyx blade, running it along the length.

"A finely crafted blade." remarked Cornellius with a touch of envy, his hand sweeping through the air as he examined the weapon. "Practically weightless—a testament to his discerning eye for quality." His gaze lingered on the draconic motifs adorning the hilt, a furrow forming on his brow. "Although, one wonders if his penchant for dragon-themed armaments borders on obsession, wouldn't you say?"

Garroth was behind him wearing a pleased expression, standing over the bound forms of Krotos and Shandalar, each secured in a similar manner to Arcturus himself. Krotos’ head was hanging, the gryphon seemingly depleted of any courage left, the only sounds escaping his beaks being mournful chirps. Shandalar on the other hand, had her head up, confidence glimmering in her eyes despite the manacles and gag.

“I am ever glad we could put this headache to its end.” He nodded to the king, then chuckled to Suntail, the gryphon inquisitor pacing across the stone floor before a handful of constructs. “You’ll take note it was not your inquisitor that resolved your problem, but myself and my team.”

Suntail’s eyes burned as her voice kept its composure, “I’ll remind you Garroth, that victory was not yours alone. Your team still needed our resources to accomplish this victory.” Her feathers ruffled as she gestured with a sharpened claw, “And that your companions have failed to return with the Drenedarian princess.”

“They’ll pull through just you wait feathers.” Scoffed the warrior, “I’ve faced her before, and I can say she’s not that skilled. Athenais and Soggu can handle anything that girl and her bull can dish out.

“And the dragon? How was he dispatched?”

“You’ll have to ask the resident mage.” Garroth winked. “Heard Nigel disposed of him.”

The lich? When he thought the night could not sink further, his world shattered ever more. He was just as helpless as he’d been with his family, unable to protect and keep them safe. Guilt consumed him as he replayed the moments in his mind, wondering if he could have done something, anything, to sway Veledar from his perilous path. If only he had found the right words, the right gestures, perhaps they would be soaring away to safety instead of facing such a tragic fate.  He went numb, picturing that beautiful, scaled snout bloodied and bruised, never again gracing his life. Just as he trembled, head hanging, Cornellius’ kind, empathetic voice came to his ear.

"Arcturus, my dear friend, it's good to see you unharmed." King Cornellius spoke in gentle tones. "I've been eager to have this conversation with you. You've been the subject of much discussion in these halls, and it's time to address the rumors and accusations that have been circulating."

He paused, a heavy sigh escaping his lips, before continuing with a hint of concern in his voice. "I must confess, the situation you find yourself in is rather dire. There are troubling reports of you attacking our men and colluding with agents from Rothdell. And then there's the matter of the dragon you released, the very creature I tasked you with capturing."

“The dragon you asked of me to kill.” Arcturus’ despair melted away, finding power in a burning kernel within. His gaze pierced through the veneer of the king's facade, exposing the darkness that lurked beneath. "You speak of attacking your men and conspiring with Rothdellian agents yet turn a blind eye to the atrocities committed in your name. The undead wizard you consort with, the souls you sacrifice for your precious mana stones—are these not the true crimes that stain your hands?"

Cornellius motioned for the paladin to halt, his demeanor poised and collected. "Indeed, you have stumbled upon that revelation tonight." he remarked calmly. "Should you afford me the opportunity to explain and engage in dialogue, I am confident you will see the ethical nature of our actions and the considerable benefits they bring, far outweighing any perceived costs."

Arcturus straightened his stance, his eyes ablaze with righteous indignation. "Ethical?" he growled, “There is no morality in sacrificing mortal souls for our mana stones- “His stomach lurched at the thought, but he pressed forward, “You cloak your atrocities in false virtue, but the blood of the innocent stains your hands, nonetheless.

"Arcturus, my dear friend, I understand your concerns. But rest assured, we do not harvest souls indiscriminately. Only the souls of the vilest criminals, murderers, and monsters are utilized in the creation of mana stones. Their sacrifice serves a greater good, ensuring the safety and prosperity of our kingdom."

"I can't fathom any crime worthy of having one's soul ripped to pieces like that."

Cornellius gestured gracefully to the grandeur of the throne room, as if inviting the very walls to bear witness to his words. "Every stone, every beam in this kingdom bears the weight of our responsibility. We must ensure its prosperity, its safety, no matter the cost." With a sigh, he paced a few steps, his fingers lightly tracing the intricate carvings on the arm of his throne. "And in these dark times, sacrifices must be made, choices that may seem harsh, but are necessary."

The king allowed a pregnant pause to hang heavy in the air, his gaze piercing Arcturus like a blade. "Now, indulge my curiosity." Leaning in, his eyes bore into the paladin's, "Why, in the name of all that is righteous, did you see fit to release the dragon I charged you with retrieving? How could one of your esteemed lineages, renowned for their prowess in dragon slaying, succumb to such folly? What deceitful whispers corrupted your judgment?" Straightening up, he fixed Shandalar with a steely glare. "Or was it perhaps the influence of the serpent from Rothdell, slithering into the heart of my kingdom?"

"Lies?" he scoffed, his tone dripping with contempt. "The only falsehoods uttered are the ones born of your own hubris, Your Majesty. Crimson Sky may boast of his feats, but his words hold more truth than the hollow promises of this kingdom. The accusations against him were unfounded, mere fabrications spun to justify his capture and execution."

“That was the story that Lynalla told us as well.” Suntail spoke up, “That would be the truth, that the towns description of the dragon’s misdeeds was incorrect.”

“Precisely.” Arcturus continued, “So when you gave the order to kill him I- “

“There you said it again.” Cornellius replied firmly, “I never gave such an order. I wanted the dragon contained so he couldn’t destroy my…our kingdom.”

He had to be lying, Arcturus glared down the man he’d known for years. He had remembered the orders clear as day, the night his fate changed. “You did.”

The king exchanged a look with Suntail, “Strange, it would appear as though he speaks truth.”

“Or believes that is what he heard.” Suntail replied, “Given what we have revealed tonight, I suspect it was a ruse.” She gestured to Shandalar with a wing, “Using Arcturus’ good nature against us to release that dragon, then recruit them both in her war against the kingdom. It’s rather ingenious.”

 "And what tales did she weave to sway a loyal knight such as yourself?" Cornellius murmured softly.

“You mean the Uniter?” Arcturus scoffed, nearly forgetting the existence of that creation, "Just when I thought the mana stones were the pinnacle of our depravity, I discover you possess a weapon to end all wars?"

"That is precisely its purpose." Cornellius replied with a chilling calmness. "It is a force so formidable that none can withstand it. Armies will crumble, fortifications will shatter, they will embrace the progress that we bring to this misbegotten continent."

"And what if they turn your offer down?" Arcturus pressed; gaze locked with the king's. “Slaughter them all to get your peace?”

Cornellius shook his head, a solemn weight pressing upon his brow. He exhaled deeply, his gaze drifting towards a distant painting—a portrait of a woman with raven locks and a gentle smile. "I had hoped for your understanding, especially given your own past." he began, his voice laden with emotion. "This war has left no family untouched in Sethera; its scars run deep. My wife... my son—" His voice wavered briefly, betraying the pain that lurked beneath the surface. Yet, with a resolute breath, he steadied himself to continue. "We have pursued every avenue of diplomacy with our adversaries, Arcturus. But alas, it always leads to the same outcome. The Uniter is our sole recourse to demonstrate the futility of their aggression and bring an end to this strife."

“You speak of slaughter as though it is a virtue, can you hear yourself? Has the lich corrupted your mind? Think!”

“I thought once as you did, what we plan to do would be unthinkable.” Cornellius acknowledged. He exchanged a glance with Suntail, who mirrored his resolve. “But time has shown me that such a weakness cannot be had by those who lead. It is us who must make the hard decisions, not only for our own betterment, but for that of Sethera and beyond.”

“Then our kingdom doesn’t deserve to exist if such virtues are believed.”

“We are protecting the lives of numerous others that will be lost in the future. Is that not one of your vows, Arcturus? To protect the innocent?”

He grits his teeth as the paladins on either side of him dragged him to the windows, where the king gestured for him to look. “I can’t believe you’re still listening to this man.” He beseeched the paladins holding him.

“Silence traitor, your king is speaking.”

“He has not proven that yet.” Cornellius intervened; his hands folded calmly before him. “Arcturus will just need time to adjust. I’m sure he will come to the same conclusion as we have.” He gestured to the wavering lights scattered throughout the city, seemingly a representation of Lumara’s waning morality, nearly consumed by night’s oppressive grip.

“This place is a shining gem, Arcturus, one I am tasked with keeping safe. Rothdell exists in the past, treating non-mages as second-class citizens. We cannot let those with backward ideals or those clinging to ancient virtues hold us back in the muck. They were the ones who enslaved all Sethera ages ago, wielding terrible power over lesser men, inflicting upon all great misery and horror.”

“I have read such things in the history books.” Arcturus replied with venom, “Though that was all in the past. You can’t use that as justification for what we have done, plan to do.”

"You would allow their leadership to continue? To spread that corruptive ideal to the rest of the continent?" His grip tightened on Arcturus' chest plate, fingers digging into the metal. "It was Lumara that beat back Rothdell all those ages ago, with gryphons at our side. Thanks to us, non-mages can live free lives, instead of being turned into slaves or experiments for their whims."

“And then tell of Drenedar, they too have felt our wrath, yet I struggle to recall the crimes that warranted our aggression against them."

"They chose the wrong allegiance, I'm afraid." Cornellius explained, a note of disappointment in his tone. "In their folly, they have succumbed to the deceitful tales spun by Rothdellian mages or their enchantments. Once we have subdued Rothdell, the wounds we have inflicted upon Drenedar will have the chance to mend."

"Do you truly believe that wounds can mend under such circumstances?" Arcturus countered, tugging at the unyielding grip of his captors, "I have witnessed atrocities firsthand by those in your name—forts bearing our flags, claiming their people, subjecting them to brutal treatment, only to discard them like refuse, turned to stones or handed over to the Lich you harbor beneath this very castle."

"Time has a remarkable capacity for healing, if only it's allowed to work its magic." Cornellius countered serenely. "Regarding the atrocities at that fort, I've reviewed the reports meticulously compiled by Suntail." He sighed, a shadow of regret clouding his features. "Deplorable acts, ones I never condoned nor knew were taking place. Rest assured, those who overstepped their bounds will face justice." A pensive expression crossed his face briefly before he turned to Arcturus, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. "And doesn't that sound like a task suited to you, my friend? Ensuring that we maintain the noble principles you so admire? You possess the power to wield justice, to wield your sword for the greater good, rather than being remembered as a traitor who aligned with terrorists."

“I would never serve again, knowing we have done such deeds.” Arcturus spat, “How could I look upon myself again and not retch, every vow that I speak would be lies. I have seen the monsters in which you keep locked away from where good men can find them.”

"Just like that dragon?" Cornellius's brow arched, laced with a tinge of sorrow. "Nigelious has been an ally of Lumara for centuries, a victim of Rothdell's machinations. They molded him, tore apart his life. Tell me, Arcturus, if DreadFlame had survived, would you not seek his destruction? Would you not scorch the earth to ensure no one else suffered as you did? His methods may be extreme, but it's thanks to him that we're not under Rothdell's oppressive thumb."

“Crimson Sky could never be likened to that wretched filth. Nigelious, in his hallowed guise, is a blight upon this world, corroding all he touches. My Umraadi's wrath would recoil from harming the innocent; he would hesitate, unlike your monster, who proceeds without a second thought. What I've witnessed this night confirms my fears: our kingdom's standards have plummeted to hellish depths. One that shows no qualms about sacrificing mortal souls or enlisting psychotic monsters under the guise of protection.”

"That is a grim reality, my naive friend. The safety you cherish often comes at the cost of deeds you'd find most unpleasant. I had hoped you would understand, as Garroth over there or Suntail have come to realize: your hands can never stay truly clean; you must simply live with your choices." Cornellius held his head high, his words rehearsed as though reciting from a morning ritual, justifying his actions. "In time, all that has occurred could be recorded as a great moment for peace. I, Cornellius Graysword, shall be remembered as the great uniter of Sethera. Nothing will be said of the narrow-minded simpletons hindering progress, doomed to let ignorance and tyranny thrive. You may cast your judgment upon me, but I pose this question to you: should I allow our enemies to thrive in their lands, gathering strength to strike at us again?"

"You speak of wiping them from the face of Sethera, snuffing out any chance of diplomacy and change. If their people learn of what you have done, whatever false peace you achieve will come crumbling down." Arcturus snapped, his gaze falling on the despair-ridden face of Krotos. "My life has taught me, Cornellius, that nothing good comes of taking the easy path. Though its luster might be appealing at first, it's nothing more than a false gem, leaving you hollow within."

"Come now, Arcturus, surely you don't buy into such nonsense." Garroth jeered, his tone dripping with disdain. "You and I both faced those wretches in the war. What does it matter if the common folk are unharmed, if they allow their damned leaders to trample them underfoot? It's better to wipe them out entirely and let the gods sort them out."

Arcturus felt a pang of sorrow at his old friend's callous disregard for life. In a sense, the past few months had felt like breaking free from an enchantment that had held him captive for years. He sighed heavily. "How the heroes of old would grieve to see this." he lamented. "Those noble gryphons and humans who once set aside their differences to build a better world, only to have it tarnished by greed and cruelty. What of the tales we sang, praising their honor and valor? It seems they are but fairy tales to be scoffed at by those you deem too cynical for this world." His gaze bore into Cornellius, sharpened by disappointment and righteous indignation. "Our princes would weep to witness the corruption that has consumed our kingdom."

“Such sharpened words, it’s a disappointment to hear them spoken.” The king sneered, his victory dashed before it had started, “There would have been a place in our ranks for this dragon of yours, given the collar in which you kept him had a strong firm hand upon it.”

Arcturus scoffed, “If you thought I would rejoin you now, you’re more deluded than I would have thought.”

Folding his hands behind him, carefully came the next few steps from the king. He gazed out to the distant city, lingering for a few moments in silence. “You’ll have ample time to linger on this decision Arcturus, bound in the very cell that was destined for your dragon. Perhaps in many years you will come around to the correct way of thinking.”

“Expect to be disappointed.”

From the depths of the night’s sorrow, came a shining beacon that lit a fire anew in Arcturus’ chest. It spread to his fingers, racing through his veins. His heart was racing, the stone cold beneath his paws, Wait, his paws? His realization struck like lightning, dispelling the gloom. Dread mingled with anticipation and excitement as the truth dawned upon him: Veledar had survived! A smile graced his lips, but before he could voice his joy, the resounding roar of the dragon reverberated through the hall, shattering the silence like glass.

“You said that Nigel slayed the dragon!” Suntail squawked, the fear in her voice ever palpable as the paladins looked to her for direction.

"He did! How was I to know he'd fail?" The mercenary's reply was sharp, punctuated by the click of his unfastening energy crossbow. He clenched his jaw in frustration. "Typical. Never send a magician to do a man's job."

"Paladins, fan out! Don't let the beast ensnare you in its breath!" Suntail's voice rang out with authority, her wings slicing through the air as she issued orders to humans, gryphons, and constructs alike.

There was a shake of the door, a scream from beyond the wood, the paladin’s held their weapons tight. As Cornellius was brought away to safety, the knights securing Arcturus only intensified their hold. The paladin could only smirk as the hum of the energy crossbows hung upon the air, blending with the tension on every breath.

"I'd start running." Arcturus remarked, a grim delight dancing in his eyes. "He's here to rescue his treasure. Never stand in the way of a dragon on such a quest."

"What does he seek?" whispered the guard at Arcturus' left. "His tome was in the vault!"

"Unfortunately for you." Arcturus replied, a wry smile playing on his lips, "he considers me his treasure."

Recognition clicked in the color drained face of the man as he cursed to the gods above. “Doesn’t matter, he can’t get through all of us.”

"Yet he managed to defeat this Nigel of yours." Arcturus braced himself for the impending spectacle of a dragon's valor, spurred by love. "Remember, you were forewarned."

"Arcturus!" Veledar's resounding cry reverberated through the lone door, defying all attempts to contain his might. The wooden door of the hall, crafted to withstand even the greatest of battering rams, splintered under the relentless force of the dragon's paw.

In a swift and fluid motion, Shandalar sprang into action. With remarkable ease, she slipped out of her binds as though coated in slick oil. Guards lunged towards her, but she eluded their grasp with agile finesse, effortlessly swatting them aside with a mere flick of her hand. With the grace of a seasoned dancer, she cast forth a sphere of roiling clouds, which erupted upon contact with the ground. In the blink of an eye, the mist expanded, engulfing the entire hall in its billowing embrace.

“And you didn’t tie up the magician?” Suntail cried, “Garroth you incompetent buffoon!” 

“I used the magic dampening shackles as was instructed.” Growled the Mercenary, “Clearly we have been sabotaged.”

He couldn’t just sit here and do nothing! Arcturus stirred, trying to free himself, only to be met by the overpowering strength of the two humans and the gryphon holding him down.

"An intriguing revelation." Shandalar's voice cut through the mist, punctuated by the grunts of two paladins in distress. "Your restraints only hinder fresh spells, not those already woven onto your captives."

From within the swirling mist, a bolt of lightning lanced out, its crackling energy striking with lethal intent. It coiled around two constructs like a terrible serpent, reducing the pair to nothing more than a smoking pile of steel. "Captain, Krotos, focus your will, and break free!" Shandalar's voice rang out. "Their bindings hold no sway over you!"

“Stay put.” The guard beside Arcturus hissed, he and his partner pressing down to ensure he complied.

Was it truly so straightforward? He shut out all other noise and concentrated on the mage's plea, blocking out any other distractions. With a single breath, he willed himself liberated, a sensation of weightlessness enveloping him, sending tingles creeping up his neck. As he shifted, the resistance vanished, the manacles slipping off as easily as water. The pressure of the guards on his shoulders dissolved, allowing the paladin to move aside as though they were mere shadows.

“He’s free, my lord, Arcturus is- “

Not only did he concentrate on his own liberation, but also on the strength of Veledar's heart. Mighty and resplendent, it pulsed through his being via the bond they shared. Through it, he could harness the dragon's strength, perceive with his senses, and feel the terror of the people mere arm's lengths away. Just as he had done back at Suntail's fortress, he was not blind.

Without hesitation, he reclaimed his shield and sword, swiftly dislodging the man who held them. Their alarmed shouts only fueled his movements, spurring him on. With each strike, he swiftly dispatched them, disarming and slicing through gaps in their armor. As he bested this trio of paladins, Krotos' distressed cry pierced through the fog, soon followed by the explosive bursts of Shandalar's magic.

“Enough!” Suntail thundered, her wings flaring wide to put an end to the fog in which had them ensnared.

The scene unfurled like a dark tapestry, revealing the aftermath of the fierce battle. Fallen paladins littered the floor, their bodies a canvas of horror: some bathed in scarlet rivers, others drained of vitality, their essence sucked dry. A chilling sight greeted the eye – men impaled on spears of ice; their anguished expressions frozen in time. Amidst the chaos stood Krotos, a figure of avenging fury, his beak-stained crimson from the life he had taken. With a gaze ablaze with retribution, he turned to face two charging gryphons, ready to mete out his own form of justice.

Surrounded by his loyal protectors, Cornellius cast a single glance upon the unfolding chaos, his expression a mixture of dismay and resignation. With a muttered curse, he pivoted on his heel, his determined stride carrying him swiftly toward the safety of the hall beyond.

Arcturus couldn’t allow this to happen, not when such a root of corruption was within reach. He surged forward, sword in hand, “Where are you going my liege?”

His path was promptly blocked by Garroth’s extended sword, “Not so fast Arcturus, so obsessed with the king you forgot that I was here?” His coming strike came with a swiftness that the knight would not believe, this was the man he’d sparred and fought for the past few months? He only just managed to parry a blow meant to sever his head.

"We needn't resort to this, Garroth, not after all we've been through." Arcturus reasoned, his movements fluid and defensive as he danced across the floor with the black-armored warrior. "If my dragon is here, then the king's end is nigh. He'll be mounted before he knows it."

"I'm afraid that's not an option, Arcturus. When I make a promise, I stand by it." Garroth retorted, his strikes relentless and forceful. Arcturus barely managed to deflect a blow that sent him stumbling backward. "It's something we once shared, you and I."

"My oaths remain unchanged; it's Lumara that has failed me." Arcturus grunted, his blade seeking openings in Garroth's armor as they maneuvered around the throne room. But Garroth was agile, parrying each strike with precision.

"Look at you, standing here like you're the one to bring us all down." Garroth taunted, his grin widening as they circled near the grand throne. "All juiced up on dragon magic, thinking you're some kind of king. Well, let me tell you something, I've always held back in our little spars."

As he was warded away from following the king, that looked more like the case. Gritting his teeth, Arcturus doubted this would be resolved swiftly, more than enough time for Cornellius to slip away.

“Krotos, the king!” Arcturus shouted, guiding his magic down his arm, conjuring white hot flames upon his onyx blade. “He’s getting away!”

"Not on my watch!" Krotos bellowed, pushing aside the gryphons grappling with him, his feathers stained with crimson. He lunged forward, aiming to intercept the king's escape. Just as Suntail moved to restrain him with her magic, Shandalar intervened, halting the spell with a graceful motion of her hand.

“Garroth!” Shrieked the inquisitor before having to leap her way back, wings spread wide to avoid a deadly cone of cold that Shandalar had unleased.

“On it!” Replied Garroth, his attention drifting for only a moment, but one that Arcturus capitalized on.

The resounding crash of shield meeting flesh staggered the mercenary, throwing off his defensive stance. Arcturus's sword found its mark, piercing through gaps in Garroth's armor, inflicting shallow but telling wounds. Krotos's claws echoed against the stone floor, signaling his own victory. As Garroth recomposed himself, wiping blood from his lips, Arcturus squared off once again, his blade poised for another strike. “You’ll have to focus on me.”

Hate shone in the mercenary’s eyes as he gripped his sword tight, “I won’t make that mistake again.”

As Garroth charged forward, he seemed transformed, his demeanor shifting to that of a ferocious beast, untamed and relentless. His strikes came fast and furious, leaving Arcturus scrambling to defend himself. With each blow, Garroth's power seemed to swell, until he finally overpowered Arcturus, sending him staggering backward and sending his shield clattering to the ground. "Seems you've lost your grip." Garroth taunted, his sword barring Arcturus's path to reclaim it. "What a pity."

Resetting himself, Arcturus met the man’s blade, summoning Bahamut’s name to his lips. He would overpower him with magic then. To his dismay, the magical blade met Garroth’s own, which glimmered and flared to life with runes.

“Fun trick you had there, came prepared.” He chuckled, “Dwarven runes, not going to be destroyed by your pathetic magic. You’ll have to do better than that if you wish to best me.”

With a resounding crack, the hall's door splintered under the dragon's relentless force. Veledar burst into the room, a vision of crimson scales and unparalleled speed. His massive paws crashed into the nearest knights, sending them hurtling against the walls. A gryphon launched itself at him, aiming for his throat, but Veledar's jaws snapped shut around it, ending its life with a sickening crunch. Nostrils flaring and sapphire eyes gleaming with fury, he unleashed a torrent of flames, ready to consume all in his path.

"Focus your fire on the dragon!" Suntail's command rang out, her wings beating forcefully to extinguish Veledar's impending flames. With mana-infused jewelry adorning her talons, she summoned a barrier of shimmering light, isolating Arcturus and Garroth from the chaos. "Garroth, seize Arcturus! We can use him as leverage against the dragon!"

The mercenary brandished his blade with a confident smirk, “See? The inquisitor has it under control, now why don’t you surrender so we can capture you and the dragon alive.”

The constructs pivoted, unleashing a barrage of crimson energy toward Veledar, their deadly intent palpable. But Veledar, adorned with protective enchantments, seemed untouched by their assault, his scales gleaming defiantly. With a thunderous roar, he charged into the fray, smashing through the metal monstrosities with unyielding determination. Glowing, sharpened claws tore through metal, rent gears, reduced those that stood before him to piles of enchanted trash.

As the men shouted and rushed to aid, Shandalar seamlessly shifted into a defensive posture. With each flowing movement she deflected attacks with incantations, pushing back other paladins with powerful displays of gale force winds. In a display of her formidable power, she effortlessly transformed several gryphons into harmless mice.

Arcturus's resolve surged as he faced Garroth's taunts, the sight of his dragon renewing his strength in the midst of their clash. "I don’t know, they seem to be doing a good job.

"Just a mere fluke." Garroth retorted, "Just you watch."

"The question is, how could you side with the king? Where is the man that I once stood side by side with in Rothdell?"

“He’s right here before you.” Garroth grinned, “Though you surprise me Arcturus, I always took you for the more loyal of the two of us. Besides, you heard the king, better to sacrifice lives to save the majority. Is that not what a hero would do?”

His sword bit Garroth’s side, while the mercenary’s did the same at Arcturus’ glove. He pulled back with a grit of his teeth, the cut not that deep. He healed it with a lay on hand, just managing to deflect the next blow thereafter.

“How many lives does it take until it’s wrong Garroth? Two thousand, three? Or does it go all the way up to costing more lives than it saves.”

“Would you rather this war continues for another hundred years?” His blade struck a pillar with great force, tossing stone upon the floor. “You’re just too weak to do what needs to be done. Peace, believe it or not, requires sacrifices, not your naïve beliefs.”

Arcturus's blade found its mark, slicing through Garroth's gambeson and drawing blood. The mercenary stumbled back, his grimace revealing the pain of the wound. Raising his sword to Garroth's nose, Arcturus's eyes gleamed with determination. "Last chance, Garroth. Get out of my way before I run you through."

“You score a hit and think yourself the victor?” Garroth laughed, adopting his stance, “Just look at you Arcturus, guard captain, met a dragon, gathered a group of adventurers with questionable ideals, unfortunately you never were very good at picking the correct side.”

The ensuing battle erupted with a ferocity that took Arcturus by surprise. Garroth's strikes were as swift as lightning, raining down upon him from all sides. Arcturus fought desperately to defend himself, his heart pounding with each clash of steel. The cacophony of combat filled the hall, drowning out all other sounds as the warriors clashed. Even as Arcturus struggled to hold his ground, he noticed that Shandalar and Veledar were also on the defensive. Suntail, with her formidable magical prowess, weaved spells to enhance her minions' abilities, deflecting deadly strikes and increasing their speed with each passing moment.

“Focus on me Arcturus, not that of your dragon.” Garroth took advantage of his distraction, managing to nick the back of the paladin’s leg.

Thrown backwards, Arcturus hit the ground hard, the metallic clang of armor echoing through the chamber as he struggled to rise. With grim determination, he anticipated Garroth's next move, rolling aside just in time to avoid the deadly thrust aimed at his neck. Rising to his feet, Arcturus deflected Garroth's blade with a resounding clash of steel.

“You can’t win Arcturus; you were never good as me.” Laughed Garroth, forcing the game to continue. “No spells, no dragon, you won’t be making a fool of me much longer.” He stabbed again, this time finding his mark.

Arcturus gasped, eyes wide, not even feeling the pain as a tightness spread to his chest. When Garroth pulled back he crumbled to the floor, rivers of crimson pooling around his form. He gazed up into the mercenary’s eyes, seeing the cruel satisfaction painted across them.

“So, the game ends, Arcturus Lund slain by my sword.”

Struggling against the searing pain, Arcturus refused to succumb. When Veledar roared, no doubt feeling the exchange, he focused on what he had, letting magic flow through him, uttering through bloodied teeth the words of power. His armor blazed to life with an intensity that rivaled the sun itself.

“Arggg!” Garroth eyes stitched shut at the blinding flash, this was Arcturus’ chance.

Summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, Arcturus surged upward along the warrior’s blade, impaling him with his own weapon. The onyx blade pierced through flesh, up through thigh and torso. With weakened but with resolute determination, he uttered the sacred words, “In the name of Bahamut, I smite thee!”

Righteous energy gathered at the hilt, rushing up the onyx blade buried deep within Garroth’s flesh. There it boiled his blood, seared his flesh, cooking him from the inside out. A moment of recognition crossed his face of the mortal wound struck, before his eyes rolled into the back of his head, toppling him down to the floor with a mighty clang.

“So, it ends.” Arcturus said bitterly, looking upon the crumpled form of his once friend. All their time together in battle, standing side by side, all of it coming to this. He grimaced and pushed it down, the time for mourning would be later. With a deep breath he braced himself before tearing the blade out of himself.

Blinding, terrible was the pain moment before the sword clattered to the ground. The gasping paladin was only just able to cure himself with a lay on hands, whispering a prayer to Bahamut soon after.

“Don’t worry Arcturus, we’ll have you free in a moment!” Shandalar promised, the mage avoiding a Lumarian’s strike, her robes bearing the blunt of the blow and tearing from the blade. “Just let us deal with these combatants!”

“Arcturus!” Veledar announced ever with a smile, blood dribbling down his chin, he positively looked like one of the monsters from the ancient draconic tales. This however was different, there was affection in his eye, relief, pride, “I’m glad your safe!”

“Love you too.” He replied with a smile and a cough, rising to his feet. A gryphon’s shriek reminded him that his job was yet done, Krotos was going to need him. “Now you both sit tight, I’m off to go get Krotos!”

“What? Alone? You’re going to get yourself killed!” The dragon protested, “At least wait for us to bring down the wall!” He hurled a paladin into the hard light wall.

Moments later, Suntail let forth a beam of concentrated light, slamming into the dragon’s side. Veledar was sent hurtling back to the wall with a painfilled grunt. Arcturus rubbed his armor, feeling the pain through it, dread starting to bubble back to the surface of his heart.

“Go get the gryphon Arcturus!” Shandalar was at the dragon’s side, confidence shining in her demand, “I’ll ensure your Umraadi gets through this.”

“I could have handled this myself.” Hissed Veledar, rising to all fours.

With a final nod to wish them luck, Arcturus grabbed his shield and raced down the hall. For a moment he considered taking Garroth’s energy crossbow, but shook his head, never again would his grasp bear such a cursed weapon, not after what he’d learned. With a deep breath and fluttering heart, he pushed himself onward, praying he was not too late.