I awoke to find the elderly staring at me with a peculiar mix of joy and anxiety evident in his eyes. "At long last, after 380 attempts," he exclaimed, his voice quivering with emotion, "we have finally succeeded." Overwhelmed, he broke into tears before the watching guards. "Finally, I can avenge my family," he whispered.
Subsequently, they relocated me from my cramped cell to a room within their grand residence. My days of labor were behind me; they adorned me in splendid attire and provided me with sumptuous meals. However, it was clear that I was under constant surveillance.
Their demeanor towards me underwent a remarkable transformation; even the most formidable guards began treating me with deference. Every day, they escorted me to their garden, where any guard in my presence would kneel and offer worship.
Yet, as time passed, they engaged in increasingly peculiar behavior, as if preparing for an impending battle and plagued by some hidden fear.
On a serene and chilly night, the guards diligently stood watch when suddenly, the protective walls surrounding the base crumbled, and an onslaught of a hundred soldiers commenced. The battle was swift, as a horde of bandits stood no chance against highly trained soldiers. They captured all the prisoners, myself included. However, I stood apart, as they questioned why I alone resided in a luxurious chamber instead of the others. Refusing to respond, I insisted on speaking solely with their leader.
They escorted me before their superior.
This man possessed a tall and lean physique, his piercing azure eyes brimming with profound wisdom. His silver locks cascaded down his back, serving as a symbol of the knowledge he had accumulated over time.
Cloaked in robes of indigo, intricately embroidered with mystical symbols representing various schools of magic, he commanded attention. An ancestral amulet adorned his neck, a treasured heirloom that enhanced his magical prowess. Clutched in his hand was a trusty staff crafted from ancient oak, adorned with shimmering arcane crystals, serving as both conduit and focus for his spells.
I recounted my story to him—the war, the abduction, the nefarious plot of the sect. Upon hearing my tale, the leader stepped outside to confer with someone, presumably the king. After a brief interval, he returned and instructed his guard to look after me, as I was to accompany them for an audience with their monarch