"Yes," Logan said. "Once I start freeing the others, I'll need someone to guide them through the tunnels and help protect them until they're outside the Goblin walls."
Nathan was silent for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Alright. I'll do it."
A rare smile touched Logan's face. "Good. You've come a long way, Nathan. I wouldn't trust anyone else with this."
Nathan felt something warm inside him. Hope. Something he hadn't felt since the day he was taken.
That night, as the prison grew quiet, he couldn't sleep. He lay with his back against the cold wall, staring at the ceiling, listening to the slow drip of water from the corner of the cell.
Every minute felt like an hour.
Then, at last, Logan stirred and whispered, "It's time."
Nathan sat up, startled. "How do you know it's 1 a.m.?"
Logan smiled faintly, "My magic. It tells me."
Nathan blinked, but before he could say anything more, a bright orange glow filled the cell.
He turned and saw it—Logan's hands ablaze, small flames curling from his fingers, growing larger by the second.
The warmth brushed Nathan's skin.
The light flickered onto the hallway outside—and just then, heavy footsteps echoed.
A guard.
The flame vanished. Logan rubbed his palms together and the fire disappeared instantly.
Nathan's heart thundered as the guard reached their cell. He stopped right in front of them and peered inside.
His eyes narrowed.
"What's that brightness I just saw?" the guard asked.
Nathan didn't answer. He just stared at him.
Logan sat still, calm as ever.
The guard squinted into the shadows, trying to see something that wasn't there anymore. After a long pause, he grunted and walked away.
Nathan let out a long breath.
Logan turned toward him, eyes serious now.
"We're doing it tonight," he whispered. "As soon as it strikes one again, I melt the bars. You help lead the others to the gate. Stay close to me. Protect whoever can't protect themselves. Keep them moving. No one gets left behind."
Nathan nodded, adrenaline already surging through him. "Alright."
He could feel it.
Hope.
Freedom.
It was finally within reach.
Nathan watched as Prince Logan stood up slowly and walked toward the iron gate of their cell. The torchlight from the hallway flickered across Logan's face, casting long shadows behind him. With a deep breath, Logan brought his palms together and struck them—crack!
Sparks burst into life between his fingers, and a warm, steady flame curled up in his palm.
Nathan's eyes widened in wonder.
Without saying a word, Logan leaned forward and pressed the flame against the rusty lock. It sizzled softly. Heat rippled through the air. Slowly, carefully, he moved his hand back and forth beneath the lock until it glowed red-hot.
Click.
The lock snapped open.
The gate creaked loudly as it swung outward.
Nathan stepped back, barely able to believe what he was seeing. We're really getting out, he thought, his chest rising and falling with excitement. I'm going home… I'm finally going home.
Logan glanced at him. "Come on," he said quietly.
They crept down the dark corridor, arriving at the next cell. Inside were Logan's people—two young Elves huddled on straw mats. Logan raised his hand again and snapped his fingers.
Fsshh!
A small fire flared to life.
He pressed the flame under the lock just like before. The Elves in the cell noticed and rushed toward the gate, eyes wide with hope.
But Logan quickly raised a finger to his lips.
"Ssshhh! Don't make a sound."
The Elves froze, nodding quickly, their faces full of fear and excitement.
The lock melted with another quiet click, and the gate swung open. The prisoners slipped out, staying close to the walls. The hallway was still dark and silent.
Suddenly—footsteps.
Nathan stiffened. Logan's eyes darted around.
"In here," Logan whispered, pulling everyone into the shadows behind a stone pillar.
Two Goblin guards walked by, muttering to each other. They didn't even glance toward the hiding place.
Nathan met Logan's eyes. Now!
In perfect unison, they sprang forward. Nathan wrapped his arm around one guard's neck and clamped a hand over his mouth. Logan did the same to the other. The Goblins struggled, their eyes wide with panic—but it was too late.
With a brutal twist, crack!—both guards dropped to the floor, lifeless.
Logan exhaled, then turned to Nathan. "Lead them. Take these two and hide them somewhere safe. I'll free the next group."
Nathan nodded quickly. "Got it."
He took the two Elf prisoners and led them through a narrow passage. Their bare feet were nearly silent against the cold stone floor. Nathan kept glancing over his shoulder, listening for any sounds.
Then—"Halt!"
Nathan froze.
A group of Goblin guards blocked their path, swords drawn, eyes blazing with fury.
"How dare you?!" one of them shouted, already turning to ring the alarm bell on the wall.
The others raised their swords, ready to strike.
Nathan's heart thudded in his chest. We're caught…
But before the bell could ring, Logan came flying around the corner.
He slammed his palms together—BOOM!—and a fierce ball of flame erupted in his hands. With a quick motion, he flung it toward the guards.
Whoosh!
The fire roared through the air.
But the Goblins jumped aside just in time, dodging the flames. The fireball hit the stone wall behind them and exploded in a burst of heat and light.
Nathan stepped in front of the Elves, ready to fight.
The guards wasted no time. As soon as Logan's fire missed its mark, the Goblins charged, swords gleaming under the torchlight. The two Elf prisoners behind Nathan screamed and clung to each other in panic.
Nathan didn't think—he moved.
One of the guards swung his blade toward them, but Nathan ducked low and kicked hard. The sword flew from the Goblin's hand and clattered across the floor.
Without hesitation, Nathan lunged forward and grabbed it. The weapon was heavier than he expected—cold, solid, unforgiving in his grip. But he raised it anyway, stepping between the guards and the Elves.
He didn't know how to fight with a sword. Not really. But he swung with all his strength, blocking one strike, then another. For a moment—just a moment—he held his ground.
Then pain exploded in his side.
A powerful kick from one of the guards sent him flying. The sword slipped from his hand as he crashed onto the cold stone floor, gasping for breath.
Everything spun.
The guard raised his weapon again, ready to finish him.
But before the blade could fall, something unexpected happened.
"My magic is back!" a voice cried out.
Nathan turned his head just in time to see one of the Elf girls—barefoot, trembling, but filled with new energy—throw out her hands. Light burst from her fingertips, bright and golden. It struck the approaching guard and sent him flying backward.
The girl's eyes were wide with disbelief and joy. "I can feel it again! My magic—it's real!"
She rushed to Nathan and touched his shoulder. Warmth spread through him like a calm wave. His pain eased. The soreness in his muscles faded just enough for him to sit up.
The Elf girl spun around, touching the others—one by one. As she did, something changed in each of them. Their posture straightened. Their fear melted. Their eyes lit with power.
Logan's voice rang clear: "Now! Everyone, through the gate!"
Nathan scrambled to his feet. Without thinking, he snatched up two fallen swords, one in each hand. He had no idea if he'd need both—but something deep in his gut told him to be ready.
They ran.
The Elves poured through the open gate, quiet and fast. Hope surged in Nathan's chest—maybe they were going to make it.
But just as they reached the next corridor, everything stopped.
CLANG!
A heavy iron cage dropped from the ceiling with a thunderous slam, sealing off the passage. Logan, the magic Elf girl, and Nathan were trapped inside.
Before they could even react, the ground trembled.
From the far side of the hall, five monstrous beasts emerged—each larger than a man, eyes glowing, claws scraping the floor. They were like nothing Nathan had seen before—somewhere between wolves and dragons, with black fur and razor-sharp teeth.
They surrounded the cage, snarling and circling like they'd been waiting all along.
Nathan's breath caught in his throat.
"Logan…" he whispered, gripping both swords tightly. "What do we do now?"
Logan's eyes didn't leave the beasts. "We fight."
But Nathan could hear the tension in his voice. Even with magic, even with swords and hope and fire—this wasn't going to be easy.
The Elf girl beside them looked pale, her flames flickering faintly in her palms.
And in that moment, with steel bars trapping them and beasts guarding the only way out, Nathan felt the weight of fear sink into his chest again.
The moment the iron cage slammed shut and the beasts began to prowl, Nathan's eyes darted across the room, searching—someone had done this. Someone powerful. Someone cruel.
And then he saw him.
From the shadows, high above the arena, a cold laugh echoed like a thunderclap. The figure stepped into the light—his twisted crown catching the glow of the torches.
It was the Goblin King.
His green skin shimmered with magic. His yellow eyes gleamed with malice. And his voice? It was sharp, mocking, and full of pride.
"Oh, Logan," he said, his lips curling into a sneer. "You may have frozen my guards and snuck your way through the gates… but you'll never freeze me."
Nathan's breath hitched. His hands tightened around the hilts of the swords he still held. Logan stepped forward slowly, placing himself between the King and the others.
The Goblin King continued, "I see you've made some new friends—how touching. The human boy Nathan and the sweet little Elf girl, Ria. But do you really think these two weaklings can protect you from me?"
Nathan's heart pounded. His chest rose and fell quickly, fear crawling down his spine like ice. But he stood tall.
"We're not weak," he shouted, his voice sharp with anger. "And I swear on everything I have left, Regal—I'll be the one to end you! You filthy creature! These beasts you've set on us? They'll be chewing on your bones before this is over."
The Goblin King's laughter rang again, deeper this time, more wicked. "We shall see," he said with a grin. "We shall see who bleeds first."
Suddenly, the cage rattled. The lock creaked and snapped open on its own.
Nathan froze.
The beasts had arrived.
One slithered in first—its long, armored body twisted like a centipede, its jaws snapping, dripping with venom.
The second followed—a giant scorpion, black as tar, its tail arched high and ready to strike.
And behind them, the third appeared: a massive goanna-like creature, its forked tongue flicking the air, its scales glowing with a faint green poison.
Ria gasped and raised her hands, flames sparking from her palms. "I'll stop them!" she cried.
But nothing happened.
Her magic fizzled—like smoke in the wind.
The Goblin King roared with laughter. "Your tricks won't work here, little Elf. These creatures are mine. They do not fear your fire."
Panic spread across Ria's face. Nathan could feel it too. They had no magic that could stop these monsters. Only the swords in their hands.
Quickly, Nathan reached behind his back and pulled out both blades. He tossed one toward Logan. Logan caught it but didn't keep it—instead, he turned and threw it right into Ria's hands.
"Here!" Logan shouted. "We fight together!"
Ria nodded, gripping the sword tightly.
Nathan moved to her side. Together, they faced the monstrous centipede as it slithered toward them. Its legs clicked against the floor like knives. Saliva oozed from its open jaws.
Behind them, Logan readied himself. He was focused on the goanna, hands glowing faintly. His magic was still weak, but it was better than nothing.
Nathan could feel the ground shaking. The beasts were getting closer.
He whispered under his breath, "We can do this… We have to do this."
And beside him, Ria replied with quiet fire in her voice, "We'll make it out. Together."
The battle had begun. The beasts were coming. And the Goblin King watched from above—waiting for their blood to spill.