Screams of victory drifted through the air, shattering the spell that held Solomon entranced.
He and Henry turned to Ariel's window. Below, Avalon's soldiers celebrated their victory, Marcellus was captive.
Their victory was absolute, Henry's anger dissipated.
"It's over," he declared. Solomon's gaze lingered on Nahar "I don't think it is," he countered.
His eyes locked onto hers "Why is the girl from my dreams here?" Nahar's serene expression faltered, a hint of fear flickered.
The room's tension reignited.
Henry's brow furrowed.
Ariel watched, concerned.
Solomon's question hung unanswered.
Nahar's presence remained a mystery.
The battle won, a new enigma unfolded.
Solomon's heart, once shielded, now lay exposed.
To love, or to danger?
A question he knew had no answer at the moment.
Henry and Solomon strolled down the castle walls, their footsteps echoing through the stillness that followed the intense battle. Their mission was to meet Marcellus, who had been captured by Avalon's army during the clash. As they approached, Marcellus struggled against the soldiers' grip, but his efforts were futile.
Suddenly, an unsettling silence fell over the scene. Marcellus paused, sensing something was amiss. He turned around, and in that instant, darkness enveloped him. His life flashed before his eyes as a searing pain radiated from his jaw. Solomon had landed a powerful blow.
Marcel's nose and mouth spilled blood as he stumbled backward. "Yeaahhhhhhhhh!" Solomon's triumphant cry pierced the air. The soldiers echoed his victorious shout, their voices thundering through the sky: "Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Solomon's command was firm. "Take them to the dungeon." He gestured for the soldiers to seize Nahar as well. "It's dawn. Go, rest, and bury your fallen brothers. Tonight, we feast on the victory they fought for, and we toast to their memory."
Henry, Ariel, and Solomon departed to prepare for the celebratory feast, leaving Nahar and Marcellus to face their fate. The soldiers dragged them through the castle corridors, finally arriving at the foreboding dungeon.
The dungeon keeper rose from his seat, his towering figure commanding attention. At 6ft 8inches, his muscular build rivaled that of a giant. His dark skin blended seamlessly with the shadows, and his deep, resonant voice revealed his African heritage.
"More food for Odumodu to feast on," he declared, his words dripping with ominous intent. His gaze settled on Nahar and Marcellus, their destinies now entwined with the darkness within these walls.
As the soldiers handed the prisoners over, the dungeon keeper's expression remained impassive. His eyes, however, seemed to hold a hint of curiosity, a spark that suggested he knew more than he let on.
With a silent nod, he accepted the captives, his massive hands closing around the cell keys. The sound of clanking metal sealed Nahar and Marcellus's fate, confining them to the mercy of Odumodu – and the dungeon keeper's unyielding grasp.
The soldiers departed, leaving the dungeon keeper to his duties. The darkness closed in around Nahar and Marcellus, an eerie silence their only companion. Tonight would bring feast and celebration above, but below, in the depths of the dungeon, a different fate awaited.
The dungeon keeper began his routine, his movements deliberate and calculated. He unlocked the cell door, revealing a dimly lit chamber. The air was thick with the stench of mold and decay.
"Welcome to your new home," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. Nahar and Marcellus exchanged wary glances, their minds racing with thoughts of escape.
As they stepped inside, the dungeon keeper handed each a worn, leather-bound book. "The rules of Odumodu," he explained. "Read, learn, and survive."
The cell door creaked shut behind them, the sound echoing through the corridors. Nahar and Marcellus stood frozen, their hearts pounding in unison.
In the grand hall above, Henry, Ariel, and Solomon prepared for the feast. Servants scurried about, setting tables and lighting candles. The atmosphere was alive with anticipation.
Henry raised his goblet, his voice carrying across the hall. "To our fallen brothers, may their memory live on! Tonight, we celebrate victory!" The assembly erupted in cheers, the sound cascading down to the dungeon.
Nahar and Marcellus sat in darkness, the only sound was the creaking of old wooden beams. They opened the leather-bound books, the rules of Odumodu revealing a grim reality.
As night wore on, the feast above reached its climax. Henry, Ariel, and Solomon toasted to their triumph, while Nahar and Marcellus confronted the harsh truth: survival in Odumodu's realm would require cunning, strength, and resilience.
The darkness seemed to press in around them, an unforgiving force. Yet, in this desolate place, a spark of hope flickered to life. They would endure, and one day, they would escape.
In the shadows, the dungeon keeper watched, his eyes glinting with knowledge. The game had begun, and Odumodu waited patiently, his hunger growing with each passing moment.
The night wore on, the castle's revelry contrasting with the dungeon's somber silence. Nahar and Marcellus read on, committing the rules to memory. Their fate was sealed, but their determination remained unbroken.