One Hour Earlier
Vencian's wrists throbbed from the ropes, skin rubbed raw from earlier struggles. The soldier assigned to move him had little patience, forcing him into the smaller side chamber without a word. A wooden pillar stood in the corner, and the man began looping coarse rope around it to secure him.
"You should have tied my feet first," Vencian said, startling the man.
"What?" The guard asked in confusion and wariness as Vencian's tone made the hair on his arm stand.
A faint sound, like a sharp gasp, came from his left. He spun, weapon half-raised.
No one was there.
His confusion lasted a fraction of a second. Then something slammed into his head. Bone met stone with a dull, wet thud. He crumpled without a cry.
Quenya shimmered into view, hovering in the still air, her expression calm.
Vencian let out a quick breath. "Good timing."
He worked the loosened bindings until his hands slipped free, then bent to drag the unconscious man into position. The man's wrists were bound tight against the pillar, his mouth stuffed with a strip of cloth.
Vencian straightened, exhaling slowly. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, forcing his focus inward. The first flicker of heat rose in his chest.
He felt the familiar tug of a string in his sternum. Quenya glowed in response.
His skin shifted, features bending and settling into the guard's face. The coarse tunic he wore followed suit, the disguise wrapping him in an identical copy of the man's uniform.
Relying on something he barely understood made him quite uneasy. So what? He had been doing it for almost a week now since coming into this world. Investigating mysteries out of his caliber, running from enemies he barely knew, interrogating people and the list goes on.
And right now, if using these powers meant he could escape, he will use them without a second thought.
Crouching, he took the fallen man's sword and tucked it on his waist.
"Did you finish?" he asked.
Quenya nodded once. "Every corridor. Every entrance. Guards, their positions, and the tunnels beneath."
The memory of his earlier instructions came back, whispered discreetly when they first threw him into the cell. She had vanished then, slipping unseen through the keep.
"Alright. Lead me to the room where they are keeping our soldiers." Vencian said already opening the door.
With her guidance now, he moved quickly, avoiding the patrols she'd mapped out in his mind. They reached an entrance guarded by two of their own men.
Vencian smoothed the illusion into Osrick Montaro's appearance before stepping forward. His voice carried Osrick's cold precision. "Leave us. I'll handle this."
The guards outside though confused obeyed without hesitation. Inside, two more stood watch. He repeated the command, and they left as well.
Once the space was empty, the façade dropped. Before him stood twelve remaining soldiers who survived the ambush and were captured when Vencian got taken as hostage. Their faces were covered with cloth.
It was his fault and carelessness that led them in this situation but Vencian didn't wasted time ruminating over it.
His own face reappeared as he moved to free the soldiers. He made sure no one made a noise. Once freed, they rubbed their wrists, eyes sharp and wary.
"We don't have much time," Vencian said. "Getting out alive is unlikely. Our best shot is making sure Sebastian reaches the capital. His testimony is the only thing that can turn this."
They listened in silence, then nodded. Unlike the current Vencian, they were trained soldiers who had experienced war. They took this situation far more calmly than he had expected. He laid out the plan in quick, precise terms. At his signal, they'd move, drawing as much chaos as possible to cover their escape.
After explaining every part of the place, Vencian restored his changed appearance, making sure the soldiers could only see his back as he left. He slipped away and made for the next target, the room holding Jeriko and Sebastian.
Only a single watchman was stationed outside since the other one was out cold in the other room where Vencian was supposed to be tied.
He called him. "Come inside when I call."
"Yes, sir." The guard nodded in agreement and then back to his post.
Vencian dismissed the disguise and returned to his original appearance. He felt like staggering and a mild headache came his way. Creating and dismissing the illusion was already taking a toll. He still didn't know how he was able to do this or what are the mechanics at work. Only instincts guided him.
Once inside, he closed the door as Jeriko's and Sebastian's calm but anxious faces greeted him. He moved towards them, removing the blade from his waist. He cut down the ropes that tied their hands on the pole.
"We don't have time." Vencian said, handing the blade to Jeriko while the latter crouched behind the threshold, silent and alert.
Vencian knocked on the wooden barrier "Come in," he said getting back and giving a nod to Jeriko.
When the guard entered, confusion was written all over his face before Jeriko struck him down in the throat with the blade, ensuring he made no sound.
Vencian secured his sword.
Once the guard was down, there was no need for more words. Vencian had discussed everything with them beforehand. Of course he hid the fact that he can wrap his appearance with someone else's illusion.
They moved together without hesitation toward the location Quenya had confirmed, a narrow chamber at the edge of the keep where an old tunnel led away into the plains. This time, without façade as they moved in stealth.
That is the place where Osrick and his guards were hiding before ambushing them.
Inside, stale air clung to the stone. There were no sentries.
Vencian stopped at the threshold and looked at Jeriko "This takes you to the far side. A few men with horses are there, but nothing you can't handle."
That was the truth. According to Quenya a few guards were stationed to where the tunnel leads. They were watching over the horses they used to arrive here before continuing on foot.
For Jeriko, who had the shot to be the best swordsman in Airantis if not for Vencian and Moses, a few guards would be nothing. Vencian was certain that if he hadn't been captured from behind by Osrick, Jeriko would have had the prowess to overcome even that dirty ambush.
Jeriko glanced at him. "Are you sure about not coming?"
"Yes," Vencian replied. "I will see through the plan and distract Osrick."
Vencian was not a self-sacrificing guy but he has made a choice that may very well end the life of dozen of Vicorra soldier. He wanted to do anything to make the escape of Sebastian and Jeriko as sure as possible.
Sebastian hesitated, but Jeriko gave a short nod and stepped into the tunnel. Before disappearing in the darkness inside, he turned back. "Be safe, brother."
Vencian first made an uneasy face, the sudden heartwarming brotherly bond hit different. He gave an easy smile and replied. "You too."
He turned back, heading for the small paddock where the horses they'd arrived on had been penned. A lone guard stood watch, shoulders hunched against the wind.
Vencian kept Osrick's face in place and approached with the measured gait he'd seen the man use earlier. The guard straightened immediately, hand brushing the hilt at his side.
"I need something from my chamber," Vencian said, voice carrying Osrick's clipped authority. "A silver case, on the desk. Bring it to me here."
The guard hesitated only long enough to salute before striding toward the keep.
When the man disappeared, Vencian waited until the yard felt empty. He let his eyes fall to the far edge of the paddock, to the rough ground before the stables. He called up a memory from his childhood on Earth, a scene that had lodged under his skin: a creature from a sci-fi horror, the one that had kept him awake for nights. He shaped that memory into the smallest, sharpest outline he could manage.
The figure appeared without sound on the frozen ground beyond the fence. It was spare and cruel in construction: an elongated head, slick, tight skin, a spine that seemed to curve too many times. Its limbs bent at odd angles, like a joint that had been forced the wrong way. It moved in sudden, jerking bursts as if each step surprised it.
The illusion slid along the yard in short runs, appearing at one gap in the fence, vanishing, then re-forming by the stable door. Men stationed at different post turned and saw it at different angles. Horses threw back their heads, nostrils flaring.
Shouts broke out. A soldier cursed, stumbling over the fallen tack. Another shouted for a torch. The sound of armor clanking and hurried boots filled the yard as men hurried toward where the figure was headed.
Vencian kept the figure moving, letting it step further inside the building. Each sudden appearance pulled eyes and feet in that direction. Groups of men split, certain the thing would cross their path, and others ran to intercept what they thought was an intruder. Voices rose, clipped commands and panicked questions. The pile of chaos grew by the second.
When Vencian finally let the image dissolve. That was enough. The signal had been given.
Steel rang out in the yard as men abandoned their posts to investigate. The shouts carried through the corridors, echoing over the growing clash between Vicorra fighters and the keep's garrison.
Vencian pulled the last illusion into place, three riders now, himself flanked by two others. From a distance, the shapes would look real enough.
Suddenly, along with the headache, his vision blurred. He could feel that he was about to reach his limits.
He looked toward Quenya. "Can you continue?"
"Gladly," She replied with a resolute expression.
"Thanks," Vencian said as he urged the horse forward at speed. They broke into a run, hooves striking hard against the dirt as they thundered toward the open gate.