AUTHOR'S POV
In the heat of the hostile hunt for Jacomus, Atrius remained astood at the entrance of the tunnel with Mago. He was feeling the warm breeze from the dark passage brushing the back of his head.The warmth reminded him of the power that was once bestowed upon him. It even seems like it was yesterday when his father promised him the rule of Vierme. All the most when the sand soldiers yielded to him at his command. Never did he imagined that he still has dominion over them… bearing in mind that he have turned down the crown before.
Atrius felt insurmountable, as if he can do anything. He found a new purpose to open the doors of the golden opportunity that he locked long ago. And undoubtedly, he realized that with one good turn, he can have everything. Atrius shut down his inner voices, and swallowed hid unsettling thoughts whole.
He watched Jac run for his life, trying to be more impassive than he could ever be. At every deep breath, he lift off the weight of his regrettable decision crushing his chest. And at this moment, he's making a choice costing him a friend. A certain loss for every gain. Suddenly, he heard heavy groans spooling him back from his silent musings.
Immediately, he turned to Stellan, whose shut eyes are even more tightened. Mago, who was closer to Stellan, pulled down the scarf covering her face and revealed her contorted expression with a look of extreme agony as she mumble inaudible words. Atrius staggered, and hurriedly went down on his knees, wanting to hold Stellan's hand but he stopped midway. "What's happening!?". He wouldn't dare to touch a man's large hand. It's awkward for him that way, despite knowing it's Helena any way.
Mago placed his fingers on Stellan's neck and felt her faintly throbbing pulse. He couldn't figure Helena's battles within. However, her body is getting colder, and sweats have started to drench her clothes. Her skin is even more pale, with shivers uncontrollably moving every part of her body. "There's a strong magic swelling from inside her body.", he withdrew his hand in an instant, as if he was electrocuted. "A very strong magic".
The ring.
It can't be anything else, Atrius figured.
"The paladin magic comes from the ring. Helena said before that it's hurting her".
"We have to remove it. It's… killing her", Mago could feel the immense power coming from Stellan's body even when he's standing aside. "Now".
"What.. no! The real Stellan is in the palace... Removing the ring may put him in…", Atrius' mind went blank hearing his own words. His thoughts scattered like startled birds.
Mago lifted his eyes at Atrius. "Then it's time for you to choose, Prince Atrius. Is it the princess, or the paladin?", Mago set his eyes on the ring, in awe with how a little paladin magic contained in a small trinket can give off a very strong power.
Atrius found himself dumbfounded. To think, it was an absurd question with an absolutely apparent answer. Certainly, with not a single doubt or an ounce of hesitation, he would choose Helena in the blink of an eye and in any universe. He nibbled his lips, letting all the uneasiness come to him in waves.
First, he got rid of Jac.
It shouldn't be more difficult with Stellan. With a look in Mago's eyes, Atrius made a fierce decision. "Remove the ring, Mago", his voice trembling, but firm.
Deep within, Mago is rejoicing seeing Atrius struggle finding his voice and making difficult choices. Atrius have always excluded himself from the limelight… He refuses to meddle with other things that doesn't concern him. Always humbled, he never took part in any monarchical affairs, and let others make decisions for him. He bears those unreadable eyes, and walks away from taking a stand. Seeing the heir of Vierme opt to make decisions so easily now ignited his interest on the estranged woman who has seemingly have great influence on Atrius.
On Atrius' word, Mago pulled out the ring from Stellan'sfinger. He struggled a bit, until he was able to take it out. Gazing at the ring on his palm, he was stunned when it suddenly vanished into stardust. He turned his eyes to Stellan. Dropping his mouth open, his stares softened seeing a young woman whose hand is tightly held by Atrius. "I see you now, Princess", he flashed a smile at the girl who gave voice to the prince of Vierme.
Meanwhile, Jac who earned ragged cuts and bluish bruises hides behind an oak tree with dark twisted branches of red to orange canopy of foliage. He sat on the ground, with a quiver full of arrows that he found along the way. As he hide in silence, he grunted heavil igniting his paladin magic that has only been flickering at the tip of Mago's dagger. By and by, his magic ceased from lighting up. Without much use, he clicked his tongue slipping the dagger in his boot and clung close to his bow instead. Quietly with slow deep breaths through his mouth, he listened to the sand soldiers who were howling like wolves. Hungry for blood.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Took a deep breath, and let everything out that could possibly shake him. He peeked out once. Slowly, with caution. When he discerned where the maneuvres stir with his keen senses, he readied his arrows.
Each time he sneaks a peek, he shoots an arrow fueled with his raw aggression. Every arrow that flew, he gave his opponents fatal wounds, impaling them one at a time. He hit one in the neck, and another in the eye. Then, another in the back of his head. Jac pumped his fist for his every small win. "I'm going to live after all".
Jac trudged the cushion of withered leaves, leaving sounds of his trail perceptibly trackable. He dashed on the fly as he aim for the right spots of his enemies' weakness as he run. Knee. Leg. Torso. Nonetheless, they still chased him guffawing like hyenas in the wild. For every arrow that bolted, they returned spears and daggers grazing slits on Jac's skin. They haunted him with cackles of intimidation, which impulsively stemmed fear as they pursue their only prey.
Fleeing in between russet trees, Jac yowled when he felt something sharp gashed on his leg. Gasping for air, he limped his way to the back of a gnarly tree. Collapsing on the ground, he grunted pulling the knife that hit his leg. Blood squirted out but he didn't mind. With three remaining sand soldiers right on his tail, he cursed counting one last arrow in his quiver.
He crawled across the dirt and made his way down the slope. Jac looked back and whistled, catching the attention of his hunters. Then, he rolled down, and had his back slam on a big rock. Jac pulled the remaining arrow in position, and will great focus, he casted two more of his paladin aura in the form of long slender darts. The light was not too bright, but it's giving. All the same time, the sand soldiers rushed down in sight. In a split second, Jac released his arrows hitting his target with an excellent aim.
Missing out one.