Capturing one of the strongest Magi that the Kingdom of Elondri had ever birthed was just the most recent. His gaze, one of a crazed ruler, fell upon the unconscious brunette. Dragomir had fought him the entire way, aided by his wayward student and former wielder. Karteley. In the end, he'd fallen before the army that he'd amassed in this modern setting.
Karteley was left in the ruins of the inn that they'd found them in, serving as his warning to each of the Weaponians that he was coming. And he was more than willing to fight. Now, the King thought, what was he going to do with this one? Torture was the first idea that came to mind. He quickly dashed that thought aside. It was far too barbaric in his own, humble opinion.
Maybe he could brainwash the Mage, only to send him after the people he loved. That was out of the question, unfortunately, as the man had no doubt prepared for such things with a spell. He wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating this man, this man that had been the first to discover the ability to resume Human form. Ionescu was dangerous, more so than he could reasonably allow.
The King hummed in blissful silence.
Jelorent frowned as he realized that only two options were left. Death, something that wasn't easily done to a Weaponian, and torture. As much as he detested the brunette, he wasn't sure if he wanted to kill him in cold blood. Surely it wasn't that hard with his eons of wisdom backing him in the endeavor but... in some twisted way, he had come to respect the Court Mage.
“I apologize, Dragomir. I am left with only one true choice,” the man whispered.
He was no longer burdened by his lust for destruction, thoughts no longer clouded with the insanity that plagued him in his younger years. The only thing that kept him going was the desire to see Morcast on top of the world. The original reason behind his campaign to conquer the continent. No, that wasn't even the reason. So much time had passed that he'd even forgotten why he started the war in the first place.
“Bring in the captain of the T&I squad, inform him of our latest prisoner.”
xXx
Dragomir was roused from the sweet, sweet darkness. It was unpleasant, he noted. As though something was carving in his very chest! But that was ridiculous. He was in the inn with Karteley, awaiting the others to come back from the next town over. Why would-, the Mage was struck with remembrance.
The attack on the inn, Jelorent entering in his mortal form. Right before he plunged a blade in the stomach of his beloved wielder. His eyes clenched shut at the painful memory and, through sheer force of will, put that image to rest. Ionescu needed to access the situation, as well as that-! He was cut off in his train of thought as he screamed, the pain intensifying twofold.
It was only then did he notice the man standing before him; scalpel in hand. Blood coated the small blade in copious amounts. His eyes fell downward, landing on the shredded remains of what he presumed was his chest. He was bleeding, the precious liquid running down his body and slowly dripping on the soil below. Rebria, that was just beautiful. Note the sarcasm.
“Why,” the brunette flinched at the sound of his own voice.
The lack of water left his voice rough around the edges, and the sharp taste of metal told him that he was overtaxing himself with just that simple word. How long was he unconscious? Days, no doubt. There was no way that he would be in such a state, otherwise. The former King of Morcast was thorough when he wanted to make someone suffer.
His... warden, looked at him with amusement. The man was sick in the head if he was enjoying this, Ionescu told himself. Such thinking was pushed aside in favor of biting his lips, holding in a scream that threatened to rise. He felt the scalpel cutting through layer after layer of his skin, reaching the soft insides. Then he gasped as the man tapped his right lung.
Dragomir was in pain like no other but he was holding in the outbursts. As far as he was concerned, it'd only serve to encourage the stranger. In the end, the pain was far too much for him to deal with and his head fell as he embraced the sweet hold of unconsciousness. Nothing could touch him in that moment, not even the deep sea of pain that awaited.
xXx
Karteley felt anxious, no other words could grasp what she felt in that minute. She had awoken when the others had returned from their journey, bearing more than enough supplies to last them the coming weeks in the wilderness. They were none too pleased to learn what happened while they were gone. Even less so that one of their own was captured. Whatever she knew, they now knew.
“We need to rescue him,” the unofficial leader of the group, Wrendel, stated.
Celeste strayed near the corner of the room in the company of her partner; Damien. The others were in the center of the inn's remains, discussing their course of action. None of them wanted to bring her into the discussion. They feared her state of mind after she lost one of her closest friends, her mentor, and her secret crush all in one day. All of them were underestimating her with the exception of Ferro.
“Are you sure about that, Wren? I want to save him as much as you do, we have to stick together after all, but we're kind of lacking the manpower. We just don't have the resources for this sort of thing.” Avalon, Wren's right-hand man, replied in turn.
Karteley could see the reason in his argument but... she hated him more in that second than she ever had since the group had met the Weaponians. Which wasn't much. She wanted to storm Jelorent's Headquarters and rescue her partner from the jaws of their enemies. She wanted to hold him close and tell him the words that she never had the courage to say. To see him safe and sound.
“Then what are you proposing we do?”
Avalon regarded his friend seriously. “The only thing we can do, Wren. We wait and we plan.”
xXx
Dragomir had long since lost count of the days, numbering somewhere close to a month. Telling time in this place was difficult at best, impossible at worst. The only telltale sign of a passing day was the small bar of light that appeared on the wall across from him. And that was sketchy at best whenever it was cloudy. So no, the Mage had no idea how long he was down here.
For the first few days, he held the ever silent hope that the Weaponians would come to rescue him. But as the days began to drag by and he was left to rot at the hands of his captor, he lost faith and resigned himself to being tortured. However, he changed that train of thought another week afterward. Ionescu plotted his own escape. From the moment he broke free to where he would hide until he reconnected with the rest of his group.
He waited for the perfect moment. The moment when the enemy slipped in their overpowering clutch on his person. And in time, it came. Whoever was in charge of torturing him that morning forgot to retrieve his metal tray, a fatal mistake on their part. He waited for the next person to come in and killed them, using his Magic to decapitate them with the food tray. Grabbing the keys from the corpse, he unlocked the shackles that sapped him of his strength and escaped his cell.
The alarm was raised and he was forced to fight his way through hordes of Jelorent's followers. No longer was he the ever peaceful Magi the Weaponians knew, he was the veteran that led the soldiers of Elondri in battle. Killing was systematic and efficient, coating him in blood and leaving a trail of corpses in his wake.
Karteley would've feared him.
Dragomir broke out of the Headquarters and escaped into the night, traveling in the direction that he felt his companions. After spending months in their presence, it was just a matter of concentrating to pinpoint their location. As Jelorent struggled to reign in the damages and grasp the situation, the Mage was nowhere to be seen.
xXx
Karteley couldn't sleep that night, or the past few nights. Her mind wandered to her partner as it always did at this time of the day. The greenette hoped he was alright, even though it was unlikely with Jelorent as his captor. Whatever she was about to ponder next was cut off as the sound of someone opening the door crossed her ears. Nobody else was in the room nor was she expecting any late night visitors.
Her hand clutched tight a small dagger, a meager attempt to replace Dragomir until they rescued him. Maybe it was some drunkard than stumbled in her room by accident. Or the former King coming to capture her as well. In the end, she didn't care. Whoever it was, was leaving her room even if they didn't want to. Blades were just that convincing.
As the figure neared her, she lashed out in the dark. Her hand was caught skillfully and she was brought close, finding herself on the receiving end of a hug. The stranger was filthy. Pedrolino felt the grim that was getting on her nightgown. Rebria, this guy was going to get-! “Kart...”
Wait.
Karteley recognized them in an instant. To be sure, she turned flicked the nearby switch. For a few seconds, she couldn't see as the room was bathed in light. Then her eyes came into focus and fell upon the form of her kidnapped partner. Dragomir stared back mutely, smiling the entire time. All was still in the inn room.
“Drago!”
The man happily embraced the greenette as she rushed to hug him, wincing as she cried softly in his chest. It was still tender, on top of the fact that Kart of all people was crying at the mere sight of him. “Come on, stop crying. I got away, didn't I? No reason for you to shed tears on my behalf, Karteley.”
For her part, the fledgling witch cared more for him than most people realized. He was ignored in favor of more hugging and crying. She was far too swamped with feelings of joy, guilt, and relief all in one giant trip. That was probably the reason why she didn't stop and think about her next course of action. Abruptly, her sobbing ceased and she looked up at him.
Her eyes were moist with unshed tears, cheeks flushed lightly, skin pale from sleepless nights, and lips pursed together. Ionescu was entranced by the sight, unable to look away. Then she moved in and the only thing that registered in his mind was her lips on his. They parted just seconds later, looking into each others eyes.
“Kart...”
“I should've told you.”
Dragomir looked confused. “Told me what?”
“I love you.”
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