Chapter 50: Chapter 50

Prince Sebastian

As the group gathered just outside the imposing walls of the Valorian castle, the air was thick with anticipation. The moon cast an eerie glow over the assembled soldiers, their armor muted in the darkness. General Hector stood at the front, his gaze fixed on the castle, while the rest of us clustered together, going over the plan one final time.

Clive, with a grim seriousness, leaned in closer. "Once those gates are open, it's going to get bloody fast. You sure you're ready for this, Prince?" His voice was low, almost a growl, as he looked me dead in the eye.

I nodded, my expression resolute. "I've never been more ready. We get in, find Matthew, and get out. Nothing else matters."

"Remember," General Hector interjected, his tone commanding, "this is a coordinated attack. The Valorians won't know what hit them if we execute this right. But if anyone breaks formation or loses focus, it could all fall apart. Stick to the plan, and don't engage unless absolutely necessary."

Arney, crouched near the front, glanced back at us, his face a mask of determination. "I'll get those gates open before they even know I'm there. But once we're inside, it's on all of us to move fast. We're deep in enemy territory."

Alice stepped up beside me, her hand briefly brushing my arm as if to offer reassurance. "Sebastian, just... be careful, alright? We can't lose you too."

I managed a faint smile, despite the tension gnawing at my insides. "I'll be fine. We're getting Matthew out of there, no matter what."

Marcus, ever the steady presence, placed a hand on my shoulder. "You lead, I'll follow. We've been through worse, and we've always come out on top. This won't be any different."

Throne, standing a bit apart with his men, cracked his knuckles and shot me a grin. "Let's show these Valorians what happens when they mess with us. No one takes our people without paying for it."

Clive shot him a warning look. "Keep your head on straight, Throne. We're not just here for a brawl. We've got a mission, and the prince is leading it."

"I know, I know," Throne muttered, a bit chastened. "Just saying, they'll regret the day they crossed us."

Arney straightened, his expression hardening as he prepared to make his move. "Alright, I'm heading in. Give me a few minutes, and those gates will be yours."

I gave him a nod, my voice firm. "Good luck, Arney."

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," he replied, a wry smile on his lips before he melted into the shadows.

The group fell silent, the tension building as we waited for Arney to do his work. Each second felt like an eternity, the sounds of the night amplified in the stillness. My heart pounded in my chest, but I forced myself to stay calm, to focus on what needed to be done.

After what felt like an age, a faint creaking noise reached our ears—the sound of the heavy iron gates beginning to open.

"That's our cue," General Hector whispered, drawing his sword. "Move in, and stay sharp."

Clive nodded at me, his expression intense. "Ready, Prince?"

"Let's do this," I replied, steeling myself for what was to come.

With a final glance at each other, we moved as one toward the now-open gates, slipping into the castle grounds under the cover of darkness. The battle for Matthew—and for so much more—was about to begin.

...

We moved quickly, splitting into groups to cover more ground. Clive and General Hector led there men toward the barracks, ready to engage the Valorian soldiers head-on, while Marcus and I slipped into the castle, our goal clear: find Matthew and get him out.

The sounds of battle soon erupted behind us as the first wave of soldiers clashed. The clang of steel on steel, the shouts of men, and the cries of the wounded filled the night air. But Marcus and I pressed on, our focus solely on reaching the cells where we believed Matthew was being held.

We moved through the dimly lit corridors, staying close to the walls and avoiding detection as much as possible. The castle was a labyrinth of stone, each twist and turn bringing us deeper into the enemy's stronghold. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and determination driving me forward.

As we reached the lower levels, the air grew colder, the dampness of the dungeon seeping into my bones. The cells were close now; I could feel it. But as we rounded the final corner and entered the dimly lit chamber where the cells were located, my heart sank.

The cells were empty.

Panic surged through me. Matthew was supposed to be here. This was where they were holding him—or so we thought. I rushed to each cell, peering inside, but there was nothing. No sign of him.

Marcus grabbed my arm, pulling me back as I slammed my fist against the cold, unforgiving stone wall. "He's not here," I choked out, my voice thick with desperation. "Where is he? Where the hell is he?"

"Sebastian, calm down," Marcus urged, though I could hear the worry in his voice. "We'll find him. He has to be somewhere else in the castle."

I shook my head, the fear clawing at my chest. "What if we're too late? What if—"

Marcus tightened his grip on my arm, his eyes sharp. "Think about it, Sebastian. They knew we'd come for him. Obviously, they wouldn't keep him here."

My frustration boiled over, and I rounded on him. "And you think of this now?" My voice was harsher than I intended, the panic and fear pushing me to the edge.

Marcus held my gaze, his expression calm despite the tension. "I know you're scared. But panicking won't help. We need to stay focused."

I took a shuddering breath, trying to rein in my emotions. Marcus was right. Losing my head now would only make things worse. But the thought of Matthew being moved, perhaps to somewhere even more dangerous, sent a chill down my spine.

"Where would they take him, then?" I asked, my voice steadier now but still laced with urgency. "If not here, then where?"

Just as we were about to leave the chamber, a soft, raspy voice called out from the shadows, startling both of us.

"Wait... please... help me..."

I spun around, my hand instinctively reaching for my sword, but what I saw stopped me short. In the farthest corner of the chamber, barely visible in the dim light, was a man slumped against the wall of one of the cells. His clothes were torn and filthy, and his face was gaunt, the telltale signs of a prisoner who had been here far too long.

Marcus stepped forward cautiously, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the man. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice low but firm.

The man coughed weakly, struggling to push himself up from the floor. "Willem... my name is Willem," he rasped, his voice raw from disuse. "I... I was captured months ago. They've kept me here ever since."

I moved closer, gripping the bars of his cell, my heart pounding with a mix of urgency and desperation. "Willem, did you see a man here? A young man, brown hair, maybe brought in recently. Did they move him?"

Willem's eyes, dull with exhaustion, flicked up to meet mine. "Yes... they brought someone in a few days ago. Brown hair... young. They kept him here, beat him pretty bad too," he nodded weakly toward an empty cell across from his own, "but they took him away after the alarm bells rang earlier. The guards were talking... saying they had to move him before the prince could get to him."

I tightened my grip on the bars, my knuckles turning white. "Did they say where they took him?"

Willem shook his head slowly, a pained expression crossing his face. "No... I didn't hear that. They were in a hurry, though. Said something about the eastern tower, but I couldn't make out the rest. I'm sorry... I'm not sure where they've taken him."

Marcus glanced at me, his jaw set in determination. "The eastern tower. It's a lead. It's better than nothing."

I nodded, trying to push down the rising tide of fear and frustration. "Thank you, Willem. We'll get you out of here."

Willem looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief. "You're... you're not going to leave me here?"

I shook my head, my voice firm. "No one deserves to be left in this hellhole. But first, we need to find Matthew."

Marcus quickly located the keys hanging on a rusted hook nearby and unlocked Willem's cell. The door creaked open, and Marcus stepped inside, offering Willem a steady hand. The man was weak, his legs trembling as he tried to stand, but he gripped Marcus's arm with a strength born of sheer will. Determination was etched into his haggard features, though his eyes were weary.

"You think you can make it to the front gates?" Marcus asked, his voice firm but laced with concern.

Willem nodded, though it was clear the effort was immense. "I'll make it," he rasped, his voice rough from disuse, but there was a fire in his eyes that hadn't been extinguished by his captivity.

"Good," Marcus replied, his tone brisk. "There are people waiting there—Alice and Elizabeth. They'll take care of you."

Willem's eyes flickered with relief at the mention of the names, a small spark of hope rekindling. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude, though his steps were unsteady as he started toward the door.

"Stay close to the walls," Marcus advised, casting a quick glance toward the chaos still unfolding outside the cell. "And move as fast as you can."

With a final nod, Willem turned and began his slow, painful journey toward the front gates, each step a testament to his will to survive. Marcus watched him go for a moment, ensuring he was on his way before turning back to rejoin the fight.

"We need to move quickly," Marcus said, glancing toward the corridor where the soldiers had gone. "If they're in the eastern tower, that's where we're heading."

We moved out of the chamber, our pace quick and stealthy. The sounds of battle still echoed faintly through the castle, but we stayed focused, driven by the need to find Matthew before it was too late.

The corridors twisted and turned, each step taking us deeper into the castle's heart. The tension was palpable, each creak of the floorboards and distant shout making my heart race. We couldn't afford any more delays. Matthew's life was on the line, and the Valorians weren't going to make this easy for us.

As we neared the eastern tower, the shadows seemed to grow longer, the air thicker with the scent of damp stone and cold metal. My mind raced, trying to piece together what little information we had. If Matthew wasn't in the cells, then he had to be in the tower. But why? What were the Valorians planning?

We reached a set of narrow, spiraling stairs that led up to the tower. The stone steps were worn and uneven, making it difficult to move quickly, especially with Willem struggling to keep up. But we pushed on, driven by the hope that Matthew was close.

Finally, we reached a small landing at the top of the stairs, a heavy wooden door barring our way. I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering over the door handle. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through me. What if this was another dead end? What if we were already too late?

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "This is it," I whispered to Marcus and Willem. "Whatever happens, we keep moving forward."

Marcus nodded, his expression grim but resolute. "I'm with you, Sebastian. Let's finish this."

With a final nod, I pushed the door open, stepping into the unknown.

...

The room was dimly lit by a few flickering torches mounted on the walls, casting long shadows across the cold stone floor. At the center of the room, Matthew knelt on the floor, his hands bound in thick iron chains that anchored him to the ground. His head was bowed, brown hair matted with sweat and blood, his body slumped in exhaustion and defeat. The bruises and cuts on his face and arms told the story of the torture he'd endured, and seeing him like this, so broken and vulnerable, made my blood run cold.

A wave of emotions crashed over me—anger, sorrow, guilt. I'd been too late. Despite all our efforts, all our planning, this was the reality I was faced with. The sight of Matthew, my best friend, in chains, suffering at the hands of these monsters, was almost more than I could bear.

I wanted to run to him, to tear those chains off and carry him to safety. But the cold reality of the situation held me back. We weren't alone.

Standing in a semicircle around Matthew were a group of Valorian guards, their faces expressionless beneath their helmets. Their weapons were drawn, the steel gleaming in the dim light, ready to strike if I made the wrong move. And behind them, towering above the rest, was the Valorian King himself.

King Eadric was a formidable figure, his presence commanding the room. Clad in dark, ornate armor, he exuded an aura of power and menace that sent a chill down my spine. His piercing eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto me the moment I stepped into the room.

"Ah, Prince Sebastian," Eadric's voice was smooth, almost mocking as he took a step forward. "I was wondering when you'd finally show yourself."

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, the urge to charge at him overwhelming. But I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my emotions in check. This was no time for reckless actions.

"Let him go," I demanded, my voice trembling with barely restrained fury. "This has nothing to do with him."

Eadric chuckled, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "On the contrary, Prince, this has everything to do with him. Matthew here is the perfect leverage—your greatest weakness."

He waved a hand, and one of the guards stepped forward, grabbing Matthew by the hair and forcing his head up. Matthew winced, his eyes glazed with pain, but when our gazes met, something flickered in his expression—a brief moment of recognition, of hope.

"Take your hand off him," I spat, my voice trembling with barely restrained fury. My hand tightened around the hilt of my sword, the leather grip creaking under the pressure of my grip.

The guard's hand remained twisted in Matthew's hair, pulling his head back further, eliciting another weak moan of pain.

"Ahhh..." Matthew's voice was little more than a broken whisper, strained and hoarse, yet it cut through me like a blade. Seeing him like this—so broken, so vulnerable—made the anger in me burn hotter, threatening to consume every rational thought I had left.

"Let him go!" I demanded again, taking a step forward, my sword halfway out of its scabbard. The tension in the room spiked, the guards shifting slightly as if readying themselves for a fight.

Eadric raised a hand, signaling the guard to stop. "Enough," he commanded, his voice sharp. The guard released Matthew, who slumped forward, barely catching himself on his hands before he collapsed entirely. But the king's eyes never left mine, his expression one of calculated satisfaction. "You really are predictable, aren't you, Prince? Always so eager to save the ones you care about, no matter the cost."

I felt Marcus move beside me, a subtle warning in his presence. He knew what I was thinking, and he knew how dangerous it was to act on emotion alone. But seeing Matthew like this, hearing his pain—it was taking everything in me not to charge at Eadric and his men, consequences be damned.

"Your threats don't scare me, Eadric," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady, though my anger simmered just beneath the surface. "You're a coward, hiding behind chains and guards."

Eadric's smile didn't waver. "Just like you're father then" he conceded, his tone mocking,

His words hit me like a blow to the chest, a deep sense of dread rising within me. The mention of my father—a man whose weaknesses had led to so much suffering—stung more than I wanted to admit. Even the Valorians knew what an incompetent leader he had been, easily swayed and manipulated.

But I wasn't my father. I couldn't afford to be.

"You may have been able to persuade my father to do what you want," I said, my voice sharp with defiance, "but not me."

Eadric's eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest hint of irritation breaking through his otherwise composed facade. "We'll see about that, Prince," he replied, his tone icy. "Surrender Kinsley to me, and I'll let him live. Refuse, and I'll make sure you watch him die slowly, painfully, right before your eyes. The choice is yours."

The room fell deathly silent, the weight of the decision pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. Every instinct screamed at me to protect Matthew, to do whatever it took to save him. But the thought of handing over Kinsley, of giving Eadric the power he craved, was a betrayal I couldn't stomach.

I looked at Matthew, his eyes filled with pain but also with a flicker of something else—hope, trust, belief in me. He had risked everything to protect our kingdom, to protect me, and now it was my turn to protect him.

"Sebastian..." Marcus's voice was a low murmur, a reminder that I wasn't alone in this, that there were others counting on me, depending on me to make the right choice.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "No," I said, my voice firm and unyielding. "I won't surrender Kinsley. Not to you, not ever."

Eadric's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing with anger. "Then you've sealed his fate," he hissed, stepping closer, his voice dripping with venom. "And yours."

But even as the words left his lips, I knew that I couldn't waver. My choice was made, and I would face whatever came next with the same resolve my father had shown. For Matthew, for Kinsley, for everything we had fought for.

"Do your worst, Eadric," I said, meeting his gaze with steely determination. "But know this—you may kill us, but you will never break us."

I looked towards the window leading into the tower and smiled. Arney made it. With his bow drawn and in a swift, practiced motion, he released an arrow that flew through the air, striking one of the guards in the neck. The man gasped, a look of shock on his face as he crumpled to the ground.

The sudden chaos erupted around us as the heavy doors burst open, slamming against the stone walls. Clive, Throne, and their crew stormed into the room, weapons drawn, determination radiating from their every move. The battle had come to us.

"Get Winston!" Clive shouted, his voice a rallying cry amidst the chaos.

With renewed vigor, I dashed toward Matthew, my heart pounding with urgency. But as I reached him, Eadric's laughter rang out, dark and mocking. "You think you can save him that easily?" he sneered, lunging forward. In an instant, he grabbed Matthew, using him as a human shield.

"Stop! Don't move!" Eadric barked, positioning Matthew between us, his dagger pressed against Matthew's throat. "One step closer, and I'll cut him down right here!"

"Let him go!" I shouted, fury surging through me as I faced the king, my sword drawn and ready. The weight of the blade in my hand was a comfort against the turmoil in my chest, but the sight of Matthew's terror was a knife twisting deeper into my gut.

Matthew's eyes flickered with defiance, and in that brief moment, I saw the spark of the warrior he truly was, hidden beneath the layers of pain and exhaustion. Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, Matthew suddenly slammed his head back against Eadric's face with a powerful crack. The king staggered, shock written across his features as he stumbled backward, momentarily losing his grip on Matthew.

"Now, Matthew!" I shouted, my voice filled with urgency.

Matthew dropped to the floor, gasping for breath, free from Eadric's grasp. I didn't hesitate; I charged at the king, rage fueling my every movement. Eadric regained his balance just in time to see me coming, his eyes widening with fury.

"Fool!" he spat, raising his dagger to block my strike. The clash of metal rang out as our weapons met, the force of our collision reverberating through my arm. Eadric was strong, his skill evident as he countered my blows with precision, each parry a reminder of his ruthlessness.

I fought with everything I had, my heart pounding as adrenaline coursed through my veins. Each swing of my sword felt like a step closer to saving Matthew, the need to protect him sharpening my instincts. Eadric was relentless, his attacks swift and brutal. He lunged, aiming for my side, but I twisted away just in time, feeling the rush of air as the blade grazed my armor.

"Is this the best you can do, Prince?" Eadric taunted, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You're not nearly as strong as your father."

His words stung, igniting a fire within me. I couldn't let him get into my head. I forced myself to focus, drawing on all my training and experience. With a swift movement, I countered his next attack, knocking his dagger aside and spinning around to land a solid blow against his armored shoulder.

Eadric grunted, momentarily caught off guard, but he quickly recovered, his eyes flashing with rage. "You'll pay for that!" he snarled, launching himself at me with renewed ferocity.

The battle became a blur of motion—metal clashing against metal, the shouts of guards and the cries of my allies fading into the background. My entire world revolved around this struggle, the desperate need to save Matthew driving me forward.

As I parried another of Eadric's strikes, I caught sight of Matthew, struggling to get back on his feet, determination etched into his bruised face. He wasn't finished yet, and neither was I. I took a deep breath, my resolve hardening as I prepared for my next move.

"Come on, Eadric!" I shouted, my voice ringing with defiance. "Is this all you've got?"

With a roar of fury, Eadric lunged at me again, his dagger aimed straight for my heart. I sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the thrust, and retaliated with a swift upward slash. The blade grazed his arm, drawing blood, and I could see the anger boiling in his eyes.

"You'll regret that!" he snarled, his voice low and menacing. But the glint of panic creeping into his gaze told me that he was beginning to realize he was not invincible.

I pressed my advantage, my movements fueled by a mix of desperation and fierce determination. I feigned left, then swung right, catching him off guard. The blade connected, carving through the chainmail at his side and eliciting a growl of pain from Eadric. He stumbled back, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You think you can defeat me?" he hissed, trying to regain his composure. "I am the king!"

"Not for much longer," I shot back, my voice steady as I advanced. "Your reign ends today."

Eadric, now desperate, charged at me with reckless abandon. I sidestepped, allowing him to rush past me, and with a fluid motion, I turned, striking him across the back of the legs. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the force knocking the breath from his lungs.

Before he could recover, I positioned my blade at his throat, the cold steel pressing against his skin. Eadric glared up at me, his expression a mix of anger and fear, his dagger slipping from his grip as he realized he was at my mercy.

"You're a fool, Sebastian," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You think this will save you? You think the Valorian throne will fall just because of one defeat?"

I leaned closer, locking my gaze with his, unyielding. "It's not just about saving me," I said, my voice low but firm. "It's about freeing my people from your tyranny."

In that moment, I felt a surge of clarity. I was no longer the uncertain prince; I was the protector of my kingdom, the defender of my people. I tightened my grip on the sword, my resolve crystallizing.

With one swift motion, I plunged the blade into his chest, piercing through the armor and straight into his heart. Eadric's eyes widened in shock as the life drained from them, his body going limp beneath me.

"THE KING IS DEAD!" a guard screamed, his voice echoing through the dim chamber. Chaos erupted as the guards, momentarily stunned by the news, hesitated. Some turned to flee, panic overtaking them, while others rallied, fueled by anger and desperation. The air crackled with tension, a palpable shift as the tide of battle turned.

I could see Matthew, panting on the floor, struggling to catch his breath. My heart raced as I sprinted towards him, dodging the fray that erupted around us. The sounds of clashing metal and shouts filled my ears, but all I could focus on was getting to him.

"Matthew!" I called out, desperation clawing at my throat as I knelt beside him. His face was pale, glistening with sweat, but his eyes met mine with a flicker of relief.

"Sebastian..." he gasped, his voice strained as he grabbed onto me, his fingers trembling as they clutched at my arm.

"I've got you, I've got you," I said, pulling him closer to me, feeling the weight of him against my chest. The reality of him being here, alive in my arms, was overwhelming. "I can't believe you're here, I can't believe I'm holding you."

Matthew winced, his breath hitching as a sharp pain shot through him. "Ahhh!" he hissed out, his body tensing against me.

"Easy, easy," I soothed, cradling him with as much care as I could manage in the chaos surrounding us. His pain was like a dagger to my heart, but I held him tighter, refusing to let go. "We need to get you out of here."

"I can't," Matthew panted, his voice ragged and weak. "I can't move."

Panic gripped me, but before I could think of how to help him, a guard charged toward us, fury etched across his face. I instinctively drew my sword, ready to defend Matthew with my life.

But before I could engage, Marcus stepped in front of us, his sword clashing against the guard's with a resounding clang. "Go, Sebastian!" Marcus shouted, pushing back the guard with a powerful strike. "Take him out of here! Now!"

I hooked an arm under Matthew's shoulder, lifting him as gently as I could. He winced, biting back a cry of pain, but he clung to me with what strength he had left. The sounds of battle echoed through the corridors—the clash of steel, the shouts of soldiers, the cries of the wounded. But all I could focus on was getting Matthew out of there.

"Hold on," I whispered to Matthew as I began to move, my heart pounding in sync with the chaos around us. "We're getting out of here."

...

We moved as quickly as I could manage, half-dragging, half-carrying him through the dark, winding corridors of the castle. Each step felt like an eternity, every shadow a potential threat. But there was no turning back. I could hear Marcus behind us, his voice ringing out as he fought to keep the guards at bay, buying us precious time.

At last, we burst through a side door and into the open air. The courtyard was a scene of chaos—soldiers battling fiercely, fires burning, the night lit up with flashes of steel and the orange glow of flames. But there, near the gate, I spotted Alice and Elizabeth, just as Marcus had said. They were waiting anxiously by the horses, their faces lighting up with relief when they saw us.

"Alice! Elizabeth!" I called out, my voice hoarse. "We need to get him out of here!"

They rushed to our side, and together we managed to get Matthew onto one of the horses. He slumped forward, his breathing labored, but he held on.

"Sebastian, we need to move now!" Alice urged, her eyes wide with urgency as she mounted the horse beside Matthew.

I swung up onto another horse, my mind racing. "Elizabeth, lead the way!" I ordered, glancing back toward the castle, where the battle still raged.

Without another word, we spurred the horses into a gallop, racing away from the castle and into the night. The sounds of battle faded behind us, the cool night air whipping against my face as we rode hard and fast.

I kept glancing back at Matthew, his form slumped against Alice as she held him steady on the horse. His breathing was shallow, but he was alive. We were getting away. We were going to make it.

We rode until the castle was far behind us, until the only sounds were the thundering hooves of our horses and the wind rushing in our ears. Finally, Elizabeth signaled for us to slow down, and we pulled up in a secluded grove of trees.

Alice and I dismounted quickly, rushing to Matthew's side. He was barely conscious, his face pale, but when his eyes flickered open and met mine, I saw the faintest hint of a smile.

"We made it," I whispered, brushing a hand over his matted hair. "You're safe now, Matthew. We're safe."

Alice and Elizabeth worked quickly, tending to his wounds as best they could in the dim light. I stayed by his side, holding his hand, refusing to let go. The night was still and quiet around us, the chaos of the castle now just a distant memory.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to breathe. We had made it out. We were alive. And whatever came next, we would face it together.