With near soulless eyes, Istvan dreamt of the luxuries, the riches, the fame and women he was guaranteed to have and enjoy, if it hadn't been for the dekans and their horrid existence. Surviving of a single meal each day, the templar along with two other surviving knights could only sit within the cold iron cells, within darkness that was illuminated by the smallest shards of mana crystals he had ever seen.
Being so deep underground, and with no proper ventilation, the air was naturally murky and horrid, as carbon dioxide levels lingered at levels that were near poisonous to humans. Fortunately, the templars weren't considered humanity's best for propaganda, with what little mana they could call upon, their lungs filtered the poison and kept them alive. Even if, they had little to no hope of surviving.
"I... I must be hallucinating... Why, out of all people, why is it you?"
Istvan's eyes weakly gazed at the half-elf who was slowly strolling into the prison hall. The flower he had once sought to pluck, to enjoy for himself as he was simply love-struck. Such emotions failed to emerge, as his body desired sustenance more so than its desire to have sex. However, he was somewhat pleased that he could once more enjoy her beauty as one did to masterpieces. So much so, that he found it incredibly strange that his brain would be able to recall even the smaller and finest details.
"Where's the prince?"
"H-huh?"
"Where is prince Victor? Is he alive?"
The two templars who shared his cell were faster to clutch upon hope.
"Saintess Robin! You're here to save us!?"
Within the low illumination, her golden eyes that naturally flourished with mana reinvigorated their souls with a second wind. The half-elf nodded, before somewhat getting annoyed that no one was answering her.
"Yes, so where's the prince? Is he alive or not?" To help encourage them to speak, she donated her small supply of potions. Naturally, being templars who were privy to more information than others, they were fully aware of the existence of mana hearts, and as such, were more than happy to consume the blue-liquid which also sated their thirst. The mana that remained dormant within their hearts recovered to a degree that could once more provide them with their passive-abilities, but were still shackled by the lingering energies that prevented skill- activation.
"Bubble-gum? What's that?" Istvan had shot the vial down, before catching sight of the small label.
"A flavour Asai likes. Where's the prince?"
Snapping out of their own self-pity, misery and dreams of making it out and surviving, Istvan's heart recalled its eternal loyalty to Victor Del Lagos.
"He's alive! Trust me, I can feel it! If he was dead, we would know!" The templar wasn't sure if such nonsensical reasoning would sound plausible, but the half-elf nodded in understanding. As she too shared a bond with someone she was eternally grateful towards, and equally found it hard to explain to anyone else but to Asai.
"How do I open this?" Catching sight of no padlock, no chains and no gate, Robin had no choice but to ask.
"R-right. Further down the hall, there's a lever. There's no lock or anything, it's just one big lever that's incredibly heavy."
"Right." Leaving the men to their thoughts and prayers, she once more dived into the darkness, through the mist that was annoyingly prickling her skin.
..
Just a few minutes of slow pacing through the concealing mist, and Robin soon found herself bumping and almost tripping over due to the random alleviated platform. Scrutinizing the area slowly, as the fog continued to shift and form, lessening and concentrating randomly as the raised platform was soon revealed to her. And although she was still only capable of see segments before the fog once again shifted, she had seen enough to form a mental-image of her required path. As a single lone lever did in fact exist at the very end of the hall.
Thankful for the fact that she had encountered zero patrols thus far, especially when the area she was in held such high-value prisoners. Robin took a single step before immediately yanking her foot back, as the floor instantly gave in to her weight and tilted like a see-saw.
"Damn it, if only I could utilize my wings!"
Repeating her step again, but stomping and pushing the flooring down harder before once more stepping back, she squinted her eyes as she failed to see the bottom of the hole underneath before the platform reset.
Weighing the pros and cons, having half a mind to just abandon the templars, specifically the man who once tried to drug her. The half-elf wondered as to which decision would benefit them more. To continue to randomly search and bank on luck, or to utilize the templar's unique bond and connection to their prince.
Once more, she gripped her two mithril daggers too tightly as the her fingers soon turned white. Deciding to not waste time, and to try her luck with confidence in her body being lighter than most, she took a few steps back before take a deep breath and launching herself into a sprint.
The instant her lead foot planted its mass upon the platform, the entire flooring began to tilt and fall as she continued to run, quickly turning her path into an incline-climb as it soon dropped to an angle that was simply impossible to traverse by feet.
Having lost her footing and slipped, her old stubborn habit of wielding her daggers in reverse grip allowed her to instinctively utilize them like a mountain-climber would, piercing them into the stone and turning her efforts into a literal climb.
It took the half-elf near a dozen minutes of climbing, of exerting great strength, stamina and endurance as her fingers and forearms were first to burn from the lactic acid build up. A soreness she hadn't felt in quite a while due to her overreliance upon mana-empowered muscle-strength over her natural athletic ability.
Almost forgetting her current scenario and situation, she almost let out a hearty laugh as she rolled her body onto the stage that hosted the lever. With her weight gone from the platform, the path soon reset to its default position, leaving her to wonder as to how she would return. However, before figuring her route back, Robin shoved herself off the ground before wiping the sweat from her brows and yanking the lever, which sent a series of gears that whirred into motion, entirely hidden from sight as a few clicks and clacks sounded.
Having heard a series sounds that reminded her of the technology engineered by dwarven civilizations, back in the underground that connected Aevraury to Morrisen, she made a mental note to pass her findings over to Asai, in case he had any questions for his friend that lived within a ring.
Before she could attempt her return back across the flooring that fell and tilted into an impossible slope, Istvan and his two templars were quicker to run across with smiles beaming upon their faces. Giving the girl quite the fright as she failed to warn them of the dangers, only for her to realize that the trap had been deactivated, due to her action. Shoving whatever complaints she had to the back of her mind, she gave the templars a steel dagger each, as it was better than strolling around empty handed.
"Istvan, lead the way to His Highness, Prince Victor."
The man eagerly nodded as he took point, taking point as he dove back into the fog, leaving only his heavy footsteps and rigid breathing as clues to his whereabouts. Rather than utilize the indent upon the ground, the man followed his heart, following the oath blessed by Loha herself, that pledged his bloodline eternally to the royal family's.
With near soulless eyes, Istvan dreamt of the luxuries, the riches, the fame and women he was guaranteed to have and enjoy, if it hadn't been for the dekans and their horrid existence. Surviving of a single meal each day, the templar along with two other surviving knights could only sit within the cold iron cells, within darkness that was illuminated by the smallest shards of mana crystals he had ever seen.
Being so deep underground, and with no proper ventilation, the air was naturally murky and horrid, as carbon dioxide levels lingered at levels that were near poisonous to humans. Fortunately, the templars weren't considered humanity's best for propaganda, with what little mana they could call upon, their lungs filtered the poison and kept them alive. Even if, they had little to no hope of surviving.
"I... I must be hallucinating... Why, out of all people, why is it you?"
Istvan's eyes weakly gazed at the half-elf who was slowly strolling into the prison hall. The flower he had once sought to pluck, to enjoy for himself as he was simply love-struck. Such emotions failed to emerge, as his body desired sustenance more so than its desire to have sex. However, he was somewhat pleased that he could once more enjoy her beauty as one did to masterpieces. So much so, that he found it incredibly strange that his brain would be able to recall even the smaller and finest details.
"Where's the prince?"
"H-huh?"
"Where is prince Victor? Is he alive?"
The two templars who shared his cell were faster to clutch upon hope.
"Saintess Robin! You're here to save us!?"
Within the low illumination, her golden eyes that naturally flourished with mana reinvigorated their souls with a second wind. The half-elf nodded, before somewhat getting annoyed that no one was answering her.
"Yes, so where's the prince? Is he alive or not?" To help encourage them to speak, she donated her small supply of potions. Naturally, being templars who were privy to more information than others, they were fully aware of the existence of mana hearts, and as such, were more than happy to consume the blue-liquid which also sated their thirst. The mana that remained dormant within their hearts recovered to a degree that could once more provide them with their passive-abilities, but were still shackled by the lingering energies that prevented skill- activation.
"Bubble-gum? What's that?" Istvan had shot the vial down, before catching sight of the small label.
"A flavour Asai likes. Where's the prince?"
Snapping out of their own self-pity, misery and dreams of making it out and surviving, Istvan's heart recalled its eternal loyalty to Victor Del Lagos.
"He's alive! Trust me, I can feel it! If he was dead, we would know!" The templar wasn't sure if such nonsensical reasoning would sound plausible, but the half-elf nodded in understanding. As she too shared a bond with someone she was eternally grateful towards, and equally found it hard to explain to anyone else but to Asai.
"How do I open this?" Catching sight of no padlock, no chains and no gate, Robin had no choice but to ask.
"R-right. Further down the hall, there's a lever. There's no lock or anything, it's just one big lever that's incredibly heavy."
"Right." Leaving the men to their thoughts and prayers, she once more dived into the darkness, through the mist that was annoyingly prickling her skin.
..
Just a few minutes of slow pacing through the concealing mist, and Robin soon found herself bumping and almost tripping over due to the random alleviated platform. Scrutinizing the area slowly, as the fog continued to shift and form, lessening and concentrating randomly as the raised platform was soon revealed to her. And although she was still only capable of see segments before the fog once again shifted, she had seen enough to form a mental-image of her required path. As a single lone lever did in fact exist at the very end of the hall.
Thankful for the fact that she had encountered zero patrols thus far, especially when the area she was in held such high-value prisoners. Robin took a single step before immediately yanking her foot back, as the floor instantly gave in to her weight and tilted like a see-saw.
"Damn it, if only I could utilize my wings!"
Repeating her step again, but stomping and pushing the flooring down harder before once more stepping back, she squinted her eyes as she failed to see the bottom of the hole underneath before the platform reset.
Weighing the pros and cons, having half a mind to just abandon the templars, specifically the man who once tried to drug her. The half-elf wondered as to which decision would benefit them more. To continue to randomly search and bank on luck, or to utilize the templar's unique bond and connection to their prince.
Once more, she gripped her two mithril daggers too tightly as the her fingers soon turned white. Deciding to not waste time, and to try her luck with confidence in her body being lighter than most, she took a few steps back before take a deep breath and launching herself into a sprint.
The instant her lead foot planted its mass upon the platform, the entire flooring began to tilt and fall as she continued to run, quickly turning her path into an incline-climb as it soon dropped to an angle that was simply impossible to traverse by feet.
Having lost her footing and slipped, her old stubborn habit of wielding her daggers in reverse grip allowed her to instinctively utilize them like a mountain-climber would, piercing them into the stone and turning her efforts into a literal climb.
It took the half-elf near a dozen minutes of climbing, of exerting great strength, stamina and endurance as her fingers and forearms were first to burn from the lactic acid build up. A soreness she hadn't felt in quite a while due to her overreliance upon mana-empowered muscle-strength over her natural athletic ability.
Almost forgetting her current scenario and situation, she almost let out a hearty laugh as she rolled her body onto the stage that hosted the lever. With her weight gone from the platform, the path soon reset to its default position, leaving her to wonder as to how she would return. However, before figuring her route back, Robin shoved herself off the ground before wiping the sweat from her brows and yanking the lever, which sent a series of gears that whirred into motion, entirely hidden from sight as a few clicks and clacks sounded.
Having heard a series sounds that reminded her of the technology engineered by dwarven civilizations, back in the underground that connected Aevraury to Morrisen, she made a mental note to pass her findings over to Asai, in case he had any questions for his friend that lived within a ring.
Before she could attempt her return back across the flooring that fell and tilted into an impossible slope, Istvan and his two templars were quicker to run across with smiles beaming upon their faces. Giving the girl quite the fright as she failed to warn them of the dangers, only for her to realize that the trap had been deactivated, due to her action. Shoving whatever complaints she had to the back of her mind, she gave the templars a steel dagger each, as it was better than strolling around empty handed.
"Istvan, lead the way to His Highness, Prince Victor."
The man eagerly nodded as he took point, taking point as he dove back into the fog, leaving only his heavy footsteps and rigid breathing as clues to his whereabouts. Rather than utilize the indent upon the ground, the man followed his heart, following the oath blessed by Loha herself, that pledged his bloodline eternally to the royal family's.
