Anje scowled at the wobbling, gelatinous mush that had been pushed in between the cell bars. It was made of meat and vegetables suitable for farm animals but had the lingering hints of some spice. In truth, the standard rations from the Feroxi scouting troupes were downright vile in comparison.

While the hours ticked away in the room hidden from any natural light and her body maintained well enough, the same could not be said for Anje's mind. Namely, the company that had replaced Gerome.

"Eat up," Henry urged, slurping up a spoonful of his own mush. "It's going to go cold if you don't."

The dark mage had now visited Anje for the fourteenth meal in a row. He would always bring a stool, sit right outside the bars, and try to chat with her over a lukewarm meal. The prospects of a hunger strike were drawing near, as Anje wondered if Henry came down just to torment her of his own volition or that the Valmese simply wanted to be rid of the eccentric mage. Either way, it was slowly grinding what was left of Anje's sanity into a fine paste, much like the meal before her.

"I'm not hungry." Anje sat cross-legged on her butt in front of the cell door, staring at the chunky morsels. Her nose twitched as the vague meat smell wafted upward, and the corners of her mouth watered. "Just...leave it here and I'll get to it eventually."

"Nonsense my dear friend!" Henry said in a boisterous tone, spewing some food from his mouth. He wiped his lips with his long robe sleeve. "You need to keep your vigor up! I've been assigned to keep you healthy until the fun happens." Henry chuckled. "Truly a challenge, as I'm usually doing the opposite."

"Actual torture would be welcomed at this point with how much you talk about stupid mage stuff."

"Oh, Anje— tsk, tsk. You really should be happier. You're fed, clothed, and you still have all your limbs." Henry gobbled down another spoonful of slop, chewing loudly. "Pretty good deal."

Anje gestured at the cage lazily. "Yet I'm in a cage, stuck talking to a weirdo."

"A cage that's rent-free," Henry chirped, tapping his temple. "Not everyone is so lucky, you know."

"People have to pay to be imprisoned?"

Henry leaned back, nearly falling off his stool. "Plegian prisons would charge you interest on your incarceration! Walhart's pretty soft by that standard."

"And if they couldn't pay?" Anje incredulously asked.

"Well, obviously they'd get hauled back to prison for defaulting on the debt," Henry rattled off. "Nasty business, but it always gave me a smile to see repeat customers!"

Anje sniffled and twirled her spoon in between her fingers. "Oh, I'm sure it did. Seeing your dumb smile every day must've been a joy."

Henry leaned in, flashing a toothy smile. "Exactly. Now, anything new with you? Any random bouts of insanity or new mold spots growing on your body?"

Anje balked at the statement and scooted backward. "Uh, no?"

"Your body language suggests otherwise."

"Step inside here and I'll beat you to death with that stupid magic book of yours."

Henry cackled and stood up. "I do like a challenge! But, perhaps another time. Unfortunately, I have errands to run for Master Excellus and Lady Sonya. I'll have to take a raincheck on that offer."

Anje held her head in her hands and groaned. They figured out how to torture me. I swear I'm going to lose my fucking mind if Henry keeps this up. Is he even acting or is he just this weird?

"Would you like to hear a joke, Anje?" Henry asked as he brushed off his robes. "Something light to end our little chat on?"

Anje rolled her eyes. "Choke on your clever words and die, mage."

"It's not a Grimleal pop quiz, though I like your moxie!" Henry cackled. "Ah well, suppose that's better than that glare you usually give me that makes my insides feel like ooey-gooey jelly."

Anje squinted. Henry had made his way to the door but always took his sweet time in leaving. She didn't know if he was truly starved for conversation or if this was all part of the torture regiment. Either way, it was more than Anje cared to hear.

"Oh, that's the look! I must say, have you been practicing on my account?" Henry opened the door, shaking his head. "You really shouldn't go through all that effort on just my account. A mage could get the wrong idea! Haha!"

"Just...go," Anje said, shooing him away. Her mind felt drained as if Henry were a sponge for all her malice. "Please leave."

"Just be careful," Henry chirped. "Being alone with your thoughts can be quite dangerous!"

The door slammed shut and the light from the torch sconces flickered. Anje pulled her knees to her chest and stared down at her bowl of mushy food. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. The hunger gave her something else to focus on that wasn't the same four walls.

Anje's sleep schedule quickly became erratic. It wasn't the first time she'd felt trapped in her life, but it was the first where she'd lost the concept of time. With socializing limited to Henry, counting her steps endlessly, and the bars not budging after inspecting every nook and cranny. She wanted to be frustrated, but she'd already run her voice raw after the first-night shouting obscenities about Gerome.

Now, doubt crept into her soul. Every passing moment spent alone felt like a small eternity to where nobody would come to rescue her. She'd like to think Virion was hard at work striving to free her, but the twisting in her heart told her otherwise: that she was just a person compared to a country. She figured he missed her, but did he miss her badly enough to storm a Valmese stronghold?

"So much for being a team, I guess," Anje muttered, kicking at a spec of dirt on the ground. "I'll probably just rot in here until my so-called daughter comes back. Fucking bitch."

Anje's eyes darted toward the door in the corner of the room. The deadbolt was sliding and the sounds of heavy footsteps shook the ground. Someone was speaking in a deep, regal voice that made the hair on her arms stand up. Whoever it was, their deep timbre bore through the walls and settled into her skull.

Ducking under the door frame, a titanic man stepped into the room. He wore great red plate armor, a rolled-up map tucked under his armpit, and a square jaw paired with eyes in a permanent half-squint as if the light was slightly too bright. He turned toward the door and muttered something to whoever stood on the other side, and then the door slid shut.

Anje swallowed hard. She'd never seen a person so large, but even his presence seemed to dominate the room. She felt claustrophobic as he walked over to the cell door.

Is this their leader? He's a fucking mountain on legs.

The man looked toward the small supply area across from the jail cell, his gaze settling on the stools Henry would use when sitting across from her. He grabbed both of them, set them a few feet across from each other in the center of the room, and then marched to the door. He gave no attention to Anje as he quickly dug out a key from his chausses; a small gap in his thigh armor to provide mobility. The cell door was unlocked, and he sat down at one of the stools, resting his elbows on his thighs.

"Take a seat," he said, not sparring Anje even a side glance.

Do I? Anje wondered. Who had the balls to just walk into a prison cell without a second thought? Maybe I could make a run at it—

"I detest repeating myself," the man gruffly said aloud. The irritation was evident in his gravelly tone. "Take a seat."

Anje slowly approached the open door, apprehensive at the concept of simply being let out. There were no other guards around. Anje looked once at the door, but she could feel the man expecting her to sit. He was clearly a warrior of some renown and she was malnourished at best. She took a seat, doing her best not to shake and keep a straight face.

"So, this the official interrogation or whatever—"

"Look me in the eyes." The man leaned forward, staring into Anje's icy blue eyes. His beady eyes darted around like he was trying to see through to her soul. She felt naked under his scrutinizing look, but as quickly as he was interested, he leaned back and snorted. "You hate me."

Anje wrinkled her nose and did her best not to scoff. "What gave that away?"

"Your posture," he pointed at her feet that were perched on her toes, "your hands," he pointed at her clenched fists, "and your teeth are clenched." He took a deep breath, as if to relish his observations. "You're not a spy, either."

"Why did you open the door?" Anje asked, her voice more fragile than she would have liked. "Who are you?"

"You know who I am." He took another deep breath and removed the map from underneath his armpit. "A better question is who are you, and why you have my useless advisors in a panic."

"Because I'm dangerous?"

"Dangerous? That is yet to be decided. You are nothing more than a curiosity at the moment. I will judge you."

"Is that so?" Anje retorted. She folded her arms across her chest. "And how would you do that?"

"Simple," he casually replied. "Try and kill me."

Anje's eyes bulged and her breath caught in her throat. "W-what?!"

"Did I stutter?" Walhart tilted his head. "Are you scared? Not many get a chance to take me on alone. Show me your strength." He slipped his hand into one of his steel greaves and pulled out a combat knife and tossed it to Anje. She caught it and flicked the blade in her hand. Walhart spread his arms wide, beckoning Anje. "I want to see this fire that I've heard about with my own eyes."

Do I really go at him? Anje stared at the knife and then went back to Walhart. The grizzled warlord beckoned her. Dared her to come at him alone with no backup or lifeline. I could throw it right in between his eyes. I could make him bleed and this nightmare would be over. I could—

Anje threw the knife.

The blade clattered against the cold stone, sliding up against the far wall of the prison cell. Walhart tilted his head, his lips upturned in amusement. Anje's chest heaved and her face felt hot.

"So, my advisor was wrong," Walhart noted with a hint of approval. "You aren't just some rabid dog. You recognize strength."

"Just get on with it,' Anje muttered, her voice raspy and breathless. "I've had enough of these games. Either tell me what you want so I can tell you to piss off and I can rot in this hole, or just kill me already."

"So eager to meet your end?"

Anje winced, her mind flittering back to the fall that seemed to be a lifetime ago. "I'm well past my expiration date. Not sure if I've been given a second chance or," she let out a sigh, "or if this is just my own personal little slice of Hell."

Walhart sat for a moment, considering her words. He stood up without warning, his hands placed behind his back, and he looked off away from the acrobat.

"Why do you fight then? Is it hope? Love? Greed? Ambition?" Walhart asked, pausing. Anje remained silent, her eyes wandering aimlessly around the cold room. "I've seen your kind before. A rarity in Valm. Do you know what this country was like before I started my conquest?"

"A lot less burned?"

"It was a hive of corruption and villainy. Backstabbing between weak-willed nobles, petty merchants controlled the lands and a tarnished legacy." Walhart rotated, facing Anje. "You fight because you don't understand what I am doing."

"You're putting people on stakes, killing people, burning the land—"

"Because violence is a language everyone understands," Walhart said calmly. "Do you try to reason with animals? So gorged on decadence that had been granted to them by their honorable forefathers. Valm was once great, and through my vision, it shall be again." Walhart paused once more, letting Anje absorb the information. He strode up to her and blotted out the light from the faraway torches. "Tell me, foreigner. Do you truly see preserving such a backward tradition of letting the stupid and incompetent squander what once was so...grand."

Anje suppressed the urge to sigh. He really does like to talk a lot…

"So, do you understand?" Walhart clasped his hands together. "You're a killer. I can see it in your eyes, and you've no lack of wisdom from your actions and how you carry yourself. Now, help yourself by telling me—"

"Oh for the love of fuck will you shut up already?" Anje spat through clenched teeth. She shook her head and stared at the ground, bewildered. "I really don't give a shit about you. Your traditions. Whatever you think Valm should be. If you give me more of a history lesson, I'll go get the knife and kill myself to save you the trouble."

Walhart stared at Anje with murderous intent seeped from his beady eyes. His lips had twisted into a snarl and veins bulged from his thick neck. He stood up without another word and threw the stool he'd been sitting on, the wood shattering it against the far wall.

Anje froze as Walhart stomped up to her, his breath pluming from his nostrils like a raging bull. In one swift motion, he wrapped a gauntleted fist around Anje's throat and brought her up to eye level. She didn't kick her legs or scream. Just her squinted, slightly bloodshot eyes staring into his own dark pits.

"So be it. The painful way it is then. My mages will figure out what you know," Walhart said in a grave tone. "Wildfires aren't meant to be tamed it seems."

Walhart tossed Anje back into the cell with as much care as someone's dirty laundry. She hit the ground with a dull thud, scrapping her knees and elbows as she skidded toward the far wall. Her eyes drifted toward the knife she had thrown earlier, but she remained frozen in place by what the titanic warlord would do next.

Walhart let out a loud, guttural sound from deep within his throat and then slammed the cell door shut. Without another word or glance, the warlord left the barren room in a brisk manner, slamming the outer door behind him, shaking the foundation slightly.

As the deadbolt to the outer door clinked shut, a small smirk began to form on Anje's lips. That smirk slowly turned into a low, hoarse cackle as a faint pain made itself known on her throat. She could feel the imprints of his fingers underneath her jaw. Despite the pain, a burst of dry laughter that hurt her sides fumbled out from her lips. She quickly collected herself, wiping away a tear from her eye.

Cherche was right. He's just a man. A stupid, spoiled, entitled man. Anje glanced behind her, her gaze locking on the knife that she'd thrown. Laughter began to bubble up again within her. And he forgot the knife! Probably too preoccupied with me being a bitch. Ha!

Anje leaned back and grabbed the knife, sliding it into the band of her pants. The seed of a plan began to form in her mind.

"The show ain't over yet," Anje whispered to herself. She traced her fingers over the hilt of the dagger. "I'm just getting warmed up."

As the sense of time began to drift ever farther from Anje, so did her rational thoughts. With the knife she had confiscated, she began to make dash marks in the corner of her cell on the floor to mark her sleep cycles. She'd yet to surprise a guard with it as they only dropped off food and drink outside her cell when she was asleep.

62. That was the new number of the day. Or night. Or perhaps something in between, though Anje wasn't quite sure anymore. No Walhart. No Gerome. Not even Sonya. Just four walls and her cycle of exercise, stare at the wall, and her thoughts cascading upon each other like river rapids, each one more violent than the previous.

No wonder people go crazy in these boxes, Anje pondered. Her conversation with Walhart felt like a small lifetime ago. Each time she woke up, she instinctively touched the knife. A small victory.

Anje went to make another mark in her corner, but as she began to trace the tip of the blade faintly on the stone the earth shook. She frowned and slipped the knife back into the waistband of her tattered garments and pressed her ear to the floor.

Another tremor, stronger than the first. Then another, not as strong...but closer. More weight to it.

"It's coming from..." Anje looked up toward the wall with the splintered wood from Walhart's rage. "There."

The rumbling grew and her heart fluttered. Is this finally the rescue party? Did they finally come for me? Or is this just some attack?

The rumbles came faster. The sounds of trapped screams within the walls whispered out to Anje like tormented phantoms. A hideous roar shook the walls and rattled the bars of her cell as the foundation began to crack and split.

Anje stood on the opposite side of the room from the creeping action, huddling up into a protective ball. She watched as the wall bulged inward, the brickwork moaning under stress, and then a loud snapshot through the air. Dust and rubble flew haphazardly around, creating a thick haze.

She covered her mouth with her arm, trying not to breathe in the dusty fumes. The sounds of bestial growls and clashing of swords were distant. She squinted through the dust to see a dark figure. The torch sconce flickered a bit, and Anje swore she saw the visage of a draconic being with the silhouette of fibrous wings and reddened eyes standing in the hole, if only for a moment before it receded to a more humanoid form.

"Who's there?" Anje weakly coughed out. "Speak!"

The figure slowly made its way toward the busted cell. Her eyes lit up and furrowed as the white-haired man cleared his way to the door and gave her a faint smile. "A much-belated rescue, but a rescue nonetheless."

"Robin? What are you doing here? How'd you find me?"

"Later. For now, we must depart before they regain control of their Risen." Robin burned off the lock to the jail cell. He stepped inside, and Anje grimaced as she observed the tactician.

His face was marred with blackened lines and his eyes were like two ruby pools. His presence made her hairs stand up on her arms, like a static that saturated the air. He extended his thin, veiny hand out toward Anje, but she merely looked at it and hesitated.

"Been locked up a bit too long?" Robin chuckled; his voice was strained, like a rusted violin that was too tightly wound. "It's alright. You're being rescued."

"What happened to you?" Anje whispered.

Robin exhaled deeply from his nose. "A grave betrayal. I shall fill you in once we escape." His smile widened and he cocked his head. "Besides, I'm sure you've experienced your share of treachery. Now, take my hand. We have much to do."

Anje gripped Robin by the forearm, and he yanked her up with surprising force. He turned his attention toward the hole he had entered through.

"The path should be clear for now, but only if we hurry," Robin said, pulling Anje along.

"How did you invade a fort by yourself?" Robin tugged the bewildered acrobat through an empty armory as more sounds of battle echoed above them. She cleared her throat and pulled her arm back, having solid footing. "Seriously? I know you're smart and all, but isn't this kinda, ya know, suicide?"

Robin chuckled darkly. "For most, I'd agree. But Walhart made a critical error in hiring so many dark mages to do his bidding and raise Risen to bolster his ranks." His chin elevated, he gave Anje a wry smile. "But for a skilled mage that knows how to disrupt such an anchor? Well, you could say there might be disarray amongst the ranks."

"So the zombies are fighting the Valmese guys?"

Robin opened a door, leading to a flight of stairs. "More or less. Now, let's leave. I've carved a path through the northern wall."

The duo raced through the crumbling shambles of the fort. Under broken beams, eviscerated soldiers, ash piles, and an ever-present miasma of dirt mixed with the faint tingle of magic. Robin led Anje into a small northern courtyard that was oddly abandoned: watchtowers empty, stables in shambles, and a hole punched through the crumbling outer wall with char marks upon the stone.

"The Risen were commanded to assault the South entrance, so we should be fine as long as we create some distance," Robin said, striding slowly for a moment to appreciate his handiwork. "I'm sure Whalhart's single-minded rage has pinned his mages for the blame."

"So what's the plan after this?" Anje replied as she kept up to Robin's side. Her legs began to cry out for rest. She'd spent too much time in captivity.

"Soon, but first," Robin pointed toward the broken wall, "after you."

Anje bumbled over the wreckage and uneven ground as she willed her shaky legs to move quickly. A great screech from overhead nearly made her stumble. She looked up in the sky and saw a wyvern ridden by a knight in black armor wielding a great axe.

That's Gerome's armor. He's coming right for us!

"Keep going, I'll handle this," Robin calmly instructed.

Anje grimaced, but continued onward until she heard the sound of lightning discharging. She whipped her head around to see a large purple bolt of energy unfurl from Robin's right arm and pierce through the torso of the fast-approaching wyvern. The magnificent beast fell like a rock and crashed into the stables, sending its rider flying.

Robin began to take a step forward, channeling more energy into his hands as the rider weakly tried to prop themselves up.

"Don't we have to go?!" Anje shouted.

The lightning vanished from Robin's hand, and he turned around. His reddened eyes and tarnished face looked even worse in the daylight. "Of course," Robin calmly replied. "I may have gotten a bit carried away. Let us be off."

After scampering off the rumble, Robin led Anje into the densely forested mountains. Down several switchbacks, weaving between ponds and small streams, and even through a small, old mining tunnel. Anje focused on her footsteps and breathing as Robin's punishing pace didn't yield once, nor did he look back to see if she was following. It wasn't until they reached the bottom of the mountain that Robin's gait slowed, and he motioned to a nearby stump for Anje to sit on.

Without hesitation, Anje sat on the stump in a hunched-over position, resting her elbows on her thighs. "That...was a lot of hiking."

"It was necessary," Robin said. His gaze was fixated on the sheltered treeline as if looking for something. No birds chirped and the sounds of battle at the fort were long gone.

"So, you gonna tell me what the fuck happened?" Anje asked. He gestured up and down to the mage. "Why you look like shit and you're alone? Let alone knowing where I was."

Robin clasped his hands behind his back and looked at Anje with half-lidded eyes. "One question at a time. First, I told you I was betrayed. Interlopers from the future descended upon me and my group at the Mila Tree. Utter sabotage." He sighed heavily and shook his head. "My daughter from the future is controlled by Grima, to put it simply. Hexed those with me, killed the Voice of Naga, and left me brutalized and weakened to an extent."

"You're daughter from the future?" Anje rubbed her chin. So it's not that Sonya was talking out her ass. Seems Robin and I are in the same boat.

"Yes, though how she found us is a mystery, though I have my theories." Robin's lips curled downward. "I've reason to believe that they're in League with the Grimleal, and by extension, being manipulated by Walhart."

"Is there a way to save them?" Anje asked. "Also, any news on Virion and the others?"

Robin shrugged. "I found you by ambushing a small Valmese envoy for medical supplies and found a missive about your whereabouts. As to the others," He paused, taking a deep breath, "well, I've my suspicions, but nothing solid. But at least there are two of us now."

"Alright, so we gotta regroup with the others and—"

"No," Robin sternly interjected. "We cannot regroup. Not yet while the threat is too unknown. We must remain in the shadows for now. As you've no doubt experienced first hand, those from the future are meddlesome and clever. We must use clever tactics to sow chaos in their ranks and scatter them."

"Alright," Anje slowly said. "So if we can't regroup, and we're both not doing so hot, do we just lie low?"

"Not quite. I think it'd be advantageous for us to swap goals so to speak. Keep our enemies guessing." Robin closed his eyes and hummed. "Yes, I think that would be ideal. You should hunt down Morgan while I task myself with finding the rest of our allies."

"By hunt you mean kill?"

"Naturally," Robin dismissively said. "They are dangerous, as you can no doubt see from my features."

"But how are you feeling?" Anje asked, sitting up a bit straighter. "I mean, you're asking me to kill your daughter. Ain't that a bit, uh, fucked?"

"I ask, because of two reasons." Robin held up his middle and index fingers on his left hand. "One, I fear that me approaching the group again would have disastrous consequences. They wouldn't hesitate to finish me off. But not you." He lowered his middle finger. "And secondly...I do not wish to kill my own child, even if I haven't raised them. It feels wrong, no?"

Anje scratched the back of her head, pulling at her matted blonde hair. "Well, I get it I do, but—"

Robin stepped up to Anje and crouched before her, looking up into her eyes. "Look at me. Was it not I who has always believed in you? From Regna Ferox, who was there for you?"

"You, but—"

"And your dealings with the Shepherds to avoid disaster, it was I who spoke up for you." Robin patted Anje's thigh and smiled. "I've always been there alongside you, rooting for you. Be my personal champion. I believe in you, so can you believe in me? Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Well, no…" Anje frowned and looked at the ground. She sighed and blinked rapidly. "Alright. Fine. I'll do it."

A broad smile spread across Robin's face. "I knew you had it in you. Thank you." He backed up and stretched his back. "We'll supply in a small village north of here, and then split up then. I believe Morgan is leading them into Valm Harbor. No doubt attracting her compatriots from overseas to the crisis that Walhart has stirred up."

"And what will you do?" Anje tentatively asked. "Are you going to find Virion? What about Sonya—"

"I'm going to look deeper into the Grimleal influence here that Walhart has cultivated," Robin stated. "I've got a contact, and I think I may be able to sway this war in our favor by pulling the right strings. If things work out, I'll have access to their information network, and be able to track down our friends. I shall seek you out in Valm harbor in a few weeks. From there we can drive a stake through Walhart's wretched plans and those of the interlopers."

Anje hopped off the stump and stretched her arms. "Well, let's not waste any time then. I'd like this whole thing to be over with."

"With my plan, I assure you it will be," Robin said, giving her an appraising nod. "I knew I chose right in freeing you from that cage."

A/N: I'm still alive here plugging away, and we're back with some setup for the ensuing chaos. Anje is going to have a hell of a time, especially with her 'new' confidant. I'll be looking to get another chapter out next month, but as with work, other projects, and distractions, you know how it goes. I'm just trying to do what I can as we're now in the 'back 9' so to speak.

Big thanks to UDtimburrhog for the wonderful beta work. They've proven quite savvy with editing my redundancy and poor spelling, so it's much appreciated.

Thanks for the reviews and feedback as well! It's nice to see some people drifting from my other works, and I appreciate the feedback, positive or negative. I crave the constructiveness :D

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Until next time, thanks for reading!