"Agh!" Tytus whimpered in pain.

"I'm sorry, but it won't heal unless you let me do this." Jazmyn said, wringing out the water from a blood stained cloth.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Tytus asked her.

"Well...I've picked up some techniques along the way. I've been apart of many expeditions to many different places long before this one, Sir Tytus." She said, dabbing his wound. "Just not places so...well, sinister, I guess."

"I bet. We wouldn't have traveled all the way to Valdor if Irving didn't think you'd be necessary."

Jazmyn had stopped pressing the cold cloth on Tytus' wound. She had nearly forgotten about the elder scholar. How could she have? The man had taught her everything she knew. She knew him when he had hair, which is not something everyone can say.

Tytus struck a nerve that he should've known had been there. He instantly wish he didn't bring up the old man. He was to her what Gallador had been to him. He only wish he got the chance to tell Gallador that.

"I'm very sorry." Tytus said apologetically.

"No, it's fine. I needed to cope anyway. It's not good to hold these feelings in."

"I understand. Do you wish to talk about it?"

"I suppose...do you wish to talk about Gallador."

Tytus hesitated to answer. He wasn't much one to express his feelings, always being a closed off individual. But if Jazmyn was willing to open up to him, he would open up to her.

"The only thing I wish to do is go home." He said.

Jazmyn nodded in agreement. "It's only been three days that we've been here...but it seems like much longer."

Tytus nodded. "Three days here is three days too long."

From across the room, he heard movement and conversing. Danticus and Gabrielen were up, walking and talking. They stopped next to the bookcase.

"Where are you two going? Tytus asked.

"To search for Aryanne. We have to find her." Said Danticus.

"Indeed."

"Hows Cristomir?" Danticus inquired.

"He's still sleeping. I'm more concerned about you, Danticus...how are you holding up?" Tutus asked.

Danticus kept the remorseful expression that settled his face since the incident. "I'm...I'd be lying if I said I'm fine."

"Aye...I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help you...I should've been up and ready to stop them. Instead, that...that godforsaken beast got the best of me...I promise it won't happen again, Danticus."

Danticus nodded. "Does that put you in charge now?"

Tytus shook his head. "I don't care what my rank or position is. No ones in charge. We all are getting out of this together."

"Where's Miles?" Asked Gabrielen.

"He's keeping an eye out for a boat. Hopefully, one comes." Tytus said.

"Yes...hopefully." Said Danticus. "Well, we need to find Aryanne. We'll be back soon."

"Danticus..." Said Tytus.

"Yes?" He responded.

"You make damn sure you come back."

"I can't promise anything, Tytus. I'll just try my best." Danticus said.

"I suppose that will have to be enough. Good luck out there."

Danticus and Gabrielen lifted the bookcase and slid under, Danticus first and then Gabrielen. They lowered it to the ground and left for their mission. The jogged down the hall that led to the grand hallway. They heard or saw no signs of cursed ones and left. The castle was dim, small cracks of light shown through the windows that had been covered with wooden planks. Tyren told Danticus they did this to shelter themselves from the men who attacked them the day Valadel sank. They just forgot to fortify the inside. The duo ran up a couple staircases that led to a two different hallways.

"How are we ever going to find her? This castle is huge." Said Gabrielen.

"Maybe we should split up?" Danticus suggested.

"That is the last thing we should do..."

Danticus grunted, the farthest he would go to admit he was wrong. They walked down the right hand hallway. The dark walls were difficult to make out, save for the few streaks of light. His eyes would adjust soon to the darkness the cursed ones were so familiar with.

"To be honest with you..." Gabrielen said. "I'm not sure if this is one big dream or reality."

Danticus chuckled sarcastically. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know...this is all unbelievable, it seems hard to comprehend that it's even happening, that this castle is real or that elves still exist."

"Well...if it's all one big dream...I hope I wake up soon." Danticus said. The duo heard a rumbling from a room with closed. Danticus quickly walked towards it, hoping to find Aryanne.

"Danticus, wait," Said Gabrielen, grabbing his wrist. "It could be a cursed one...just be cautious."

Danticus nodded. He placed his hand on the door knob. The door itself had blotchy spots of ash peppered along the wood. It reminded him of the marks Aryanne's light had made. He opened it quickly and brought up his sword, hoping to find Aryanne. Instead, a cursed one jumped on him, piercing its gut on Danticus sword. It wailed and died. Danticus let its body fall off his sword and wiped the blood off with a cloth he had at his waist. He sheathed his blade and brought up a torch from his side. He took a match from his other pocket and ran it across the floor, creating a small flame. He set fire to his torch and the dark room was illuminated. Inside the room was only a small closet space, the kind that held brooms, wash buckets, the sorts.

"Come on...it's nothing..." Said Gabrielen.

"No, wait..." Said Danticus. At the center of the closet flat were ash marks, outlined by a small, white light. "She was here..."

"How can you tell?" Gabrielen asked.

"These marks...their marks left by Aryanne's magic..." He slowly walked to the doubled doctored closet and placed both his hands in the indents that allowed it to open. He pulled back and the cupboard flew open. Inside was not Aryanne or another cursed one, but a square opening. Danticus climbed inside, sticking his head through the hole, peering through the tunnel. From the entrance were small steps that led to the tunnel, which was barely tall enough to fit Danticus at full height.

"Danticus, what're you doing?" Gabrielen asked, worried.

"Gabrielen, wait here. I'll go on ahead..." Danticus said heading down the steps.

Gabrielen scoffed. "I'm not just going to stand around and wait. I'm coming with."

"No, Gabrielen, just...I need to do this alone..." Danticus said.

"Is that what this is about? Do you...love Aryanne, Danticus?" Gabrielen asked.

"No, no...I don't love her...well..." Danticus was quiet as he sorted out his feelings. "No, I don't love her...but I need to find her on my own...I need to convince her to come back. Just please, stay here."

Gabrielen sighed. "Fine...good luck."

"Thank you..." Danticus said. He started walking down the tunnel, hunched over to avoid hitting his head. The tunnel was small and square, curving where there were turns to be made. Along the wall were blue and white streaks that lit up as he walked by. He extinguished his torch, as it became too inconvenient in the small tunnel for him to carry. The streaks provided enough light. He continued down the small tunnel until finally, he came to a grand opening. The room was circular all around, like he was inside of a cylinder. The floor was flat and smooth, interrupted only by the blue streaks that ran through the floor. Along the walls were statues of magnificent figures, each having some magical element surrounding them.

They were elven figures, given away by their ears. They wore grand robes and jewelry, all chiseled in beautiful ivory. There were five of these statues, each with a symbol of some sorts. The only one Danticus recognized was the center statue, an elven male, or elvor, as Tyren called them. He was gripping in one hand a scroll, and in the other, was raising ice from the ground. Like Valyn when he wanted to cast magic, the statues wrists were a light blue, like the streaks that ran across the floor. It was the patron of Tyren's clan. Danticus followed the white streaks running parallel to the blue streaks which ended at the base of a statue of an elva. The wrists of the sculpture had white tinted wrists, like Aryanne's. Danticus noted the other three, large sculptures. They were crumbled, cracked and a dull gray while the other two were a solid, beautiful white.

These must be the Gods...

In front of the statue stood a stripped mannequin. Next to the mannequin were black garments, the ones Aryanne wore. Danticus sauntered over and picked them up, wondering where the elva was, or what she was wearing.

"What are you doing here." Said a familiar voice.

Danticus turned around and was greeted by Aryanne, who wore a grand robe of blue and white. The design was like nothing Danticus had ever seen, complemented by angles and curved designs. The collar was popped, protecting the sides of her neck. The lower part of the dress split to form tails behind her. On her arms and legs were leather, protecting her appendages from what may pose a danger. She stared at Danticus intensely.

"What is this place?" He asked her.

She hesitated to answer. "I found it many, many years ago. I would come here when I wanted to escape my uncle, my brother and the cursed ones. When I just wanted peace and serenity. Now, what do you want."

"Aryanne...we need to go...please...you need to come with us." Said Danticus.

"Why? So more men like you can kill my brother and I?" She said.

"Aryanne, that was not my intent...do you think I just picked up my sword and stabbed your uncle because I could?! Your uncle...did a very, very horrible thing..." Said Danticus.

Aryanne eyes were red and puffy. Tears no longer rested in her eyes.

"Listen Aryanne...I care for you...I know you..."

"You know nothing about me!" She yelled at him.

"Then who did I meet?! When I was all alone, with a girl, trying my hardest to protect her so she and her family could survive and bring back salvation to their fallen race, who was that girl I was with?" Danticus took deep breaths, trying to calm himself. "Aryanne...I've only known you such a short time yet...yet I feel like it's been forever...I deeply care for you..." He said. He started taking short steps to her, careful to not burn himself in the boiling water that was her wrath. Her eyes were pointed to the floor.

"Aryanne...I would never have done what I did to someone I feel so deeply about. Please Aryanne...you have to believe me. I admired your uncle...I wish I could take it back, but I can't. It's too late for your uncle, but it's not too late for you. You have to come with me. I can keep you safe, and you can live your life, happily, in the hills of Jorden, like your uncle always wanted for you."

"Danticus...I..." She tried to formulate a thought, any thought, but they evaded her. Danticus was now only inches from where she stood. His hand went from his side and to her chin. He raised her head and locked her lips in his. Her hands went to his shoulders as Danticus' other hand went to her side. They kissed for moments, melting away the sorrow and anger that plagued them with this one moment of lust. Finally, Aryanne pulled away.

"Danticus...what you promise...I would love to live out this fantasy of yours...but I could never do it with the man who killed my father..." She said.

Danticus heart felt as if it were melting within his chest. He had the sudden need to swallow, as if Aryanne had shoved something of the most indelicate nature into the back of his throat.

"Aryanne..."

"No, Danticus. These kisses and these, these empty promises....they're meaningless...I can't ever forgive what you have done to me and my brother. I will go to Jorden...but not with you..."

In a flash, she placed her hand onto Danticus' face, her palm laying flat against his eye. Light magic pulsed out her hand, searing the skin on Danticus face. He cried in pain as he lost his vision in his left eye. He pulled himself away from her grasp and covered his wound with both his hands.

"Aghh!!" He cried. He fell to his knees as his skin continued to burn.

Aryanne was crying again. "I don't want to do this Danticus! I don't want to hurt you like this...but this, this..."

She shot another bolt at of magic at him. It zapped his shoulder, burning through the leather and blackening his flesh.

"Aghhh!" He yelled again, breathing heavily. He looked up at her through his shaggy, curly hair. He felt only pain and sorrow. Aryanne was still crying. She genuinely didn't want to hurt the warrior so, but couldn't live with knowing her father was not avenged.

She shot one more bolt at his chest, sending him to his back. He did not move, laying still as the dead. She could not hear his breathing nor did his fingers twitch. Aryanne rose her hand to her mouth, stifling the cry that tried to escape. She fell to her knees and wept. She covered her eyes with her hands, trying to keep the tears from staining the floor with her guilt. Finally, after moments, she stood. Danticus still did not move.

She knew not if he was dead or alive. She wanted to heal him, to bring him back and apologize for what she had done, but knew doing so was almost impossible. Instead, she left. She turned and quickly scurried to the steps leading out of her hidden chamber. She stopped and took one last look at the warrior, imagining the future she could've had with him. It was a pretty portrait...but it would've been painted with a tainted brush.

She quickly ran up the steps and through the tunnel, the streaks of light dancing around her. Finally, she squeezed herself through the tiny square opening that led to the corridors of Valadel. She shut the cupboard, trying to keep her secret and past contained inside, but they whispered through the cracks. She rested her head against the doors and stood there for moments. Suddenly, a hand had grasped her shoulder. She yelped, and shot a ray of light at her assailant.

"Woah, calm down!" Said Gabrielen, grabbing her wrists. She tried to struggle free, but to no avail.

"Are you alright?" He asked. He noticed the absence of the ranger. "Where's Danticus?"

Aryanne didn't face him. Her eyes fell on his chest. She sighed deeply.

"He...he's dead..." She said.

Gabrielen eyes widened. "What?! Where is he! He can't be!" He yelled, trying to open the cupboards.

"No, listen. He...he's dead, warrior. There's nothing we can do for him. I tried to save him but...I'm sorry."

Gabrielen tried to swallow the truth she gave him. Something definitely didn't seem right...but he did believe Danticus to be dead.

"How? How did he die?"

"This place, the place through this tunnel...only elves can enter. He was a man. The second he made contact with the floor...the magic killed him. I tried to heal but I couldn't." She said. She fell into Gabrielen's arms. He awkwardly but warmly wrapped them around her. He held her while she wept. He had not known if her story was true, but the girl had just lost her father she had known for a thousand years. He would comfort her in her time of need. She released herself from his embrace and wiped her tears.

"We um, we need to get going..." Said Gabrielen.

Aryanne nodded in agreement. They walked down the looming, silent halls of the castle. Something troubled Gabrielen about Aryanne. He didn't know her too well, but could tell something was off. How was he going to explain to Tytus that Danticus had died? How could one person suffer the loss of someone twice? Tytus will be heartbroken, as will Cristomir. Oh gods, Cristomir. If he reacts as half as heartbroken as Danticus did when he lost Cristomir, they'll likely all be dead.

"Are you um...are you okay?" Gabrielen asked.

Aryanne didn't respond. She kept walking forward, eyes fixed on nothing. Gabrielen awkwardly cleared his throat and asked again.

"Aryanne...is there anything you wish to talk about?" He asked again.

"No..." She answered, her tone as cold as winter.

Gabrielen nodded and dropped the topic, striding down the stone path that led to their refuge. The remainder of the walk, Aryanne didn't change her pace, breathing rate or glance. She walked from that godforsaken chamber to the refuge as if she was in a trance no one could break. Gabrielen definitely had his suspicions, but there was nothing he could do to confirm them. Finally, after the near painful silence, they reached their haven.

"Gods, you found her. Well I'll be damned." Said Miles as Gabrielen dropped the bookcase. Aryanne immediately ran to the corner where her brother rested, unconscious, as Gabrielen met with Miles.

"It's good you...wait...where's Danticus? Tytus said he left with you." Miles inquired.

"Danticus...is...he's dead." Said Gabrielen.

Upon these words, Miles fell into his chair. The losses were taking a toll on him. He was horrified as to how Cristomir and Tytus would react.

"How? How did he pass?" Miles asked.

Gabrielen shook his head, still in disbelief. "Aryanne said magic from some hidden chamber killed him but...I don't know."

"What magick, what chamber? Where were you when this happened? How does Aryanne know this?" Said Miles, trying to make sense of this situation.

"Danticus told me to stay back, I knew I...look, if you want answers, go speak with Aryanne. She can tell you exactly what she told me."

Miles eyed Aryanne from his chair, who knelt down next to her brother, spreading light among his body, healing his broken bones and purple bruises. Miles would have to hear her story before jumping to conclusions.

"Well, Gabrielen...thank you for bringing Aryanne back safely. I'll go and speak with Tytus immediately."

"Where is he and Cristomir?" Gabrielen asked.

"They're out watching for ships...I fear to tell them, honestly." Said Miles. "First Gallador...and now Danticus...Jorden has truly lost heroes to this place."

"Aye..." Said Gabrielen.

Miles stood from his chair and excused himself. He would speak with Tytus and Cristomir later but first, he had to speak with Aryanne. As he left, Gabrielen took his seat in his chair. He hunched forward and placed his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. He wish he never came here. He wish he let his curiosity fade away instead of giving into it. But he had to know. He had to know if his grandfather was right about the stories, the stories he would tell him before he slept, the stories of great elven heroes and kingdoms.

He was always so infatuated by them, desiring to know more about the elves. They always fascinated him, much to his wonder of why. Perhaps it was because he had elven blood in his veins, as Tyren so told him. Whatever the reason was, it saddened him that this doomed castle was their fate. Their last hope turned into a hellish nightmare he and his friends had to endure.

May this castle rot under the sea, he thought to himself.

*****

(Thanks for reading, and I'd love to know what you think! Sound off in the comments! Your feedback is always appreciated!)