Chapter 2: Forsaken Fate
A young lad, no less than 16 years old , with his hands chained to the wall behind him groaned in pain. His brow glistened with sweat. His body marred with scars. Two other men clad in Rosaria colors of red were also chained beside him. One of them still conscious while the other barely clung onto his life. The conscious had a red hair and was in his early thirties while the other man was in his early twenties.
The stench of mildew and damp stone assaulted Clive's nostrils as he regained consciousness. His head throbbed, a dull ache that pulsed with each beat of his heart. He was alone, or so he thought. Then, a groan escaped his lips, drawing a guttural chuckle from the corner of the room. A man, clad in robes stained with dried blood, emerged from the shadows. His face was marred by a jagged scar that ran from his temple to his chin. In his hand, a dagger gleamed ominously, caked in dried blood.
"I thought the men of the royal family were supposed to be strong…." the man in the center laughed, his voice echoing across the room
Clive shifted, wincing as pain lanced through his shoulder. He remembered the fight, the ambush, the agonizing bite of the blade. But most of all, he remembered the chilling fear that had gripped him as the man had turned his attention to his companions – Tyler and Wade.
"I am still alive, am I not ?'
Although Clive seemed bold, he was terrified of what he had just done...drawing the attention of man towards himself. As much as Clive wanted to save his friends he didn't want to go through the same pain the man had put him through earlier. The man had been torturing them for hours that Clive had lost track of time itself.
The man approached Clive with a sinister smile "Not for long, Let's see how much more the little lordling can endure shall we?"
He began to make a deep cut in Clive's chest, Clive felt immense pain. He wanted to scream his lungs out, he wanted to beg for mercy but his dignity prevented him from doing so. A noble lord can't beg in front of his men, he will rather die than beg for mercy. The man who was still conscious and tied to the wall beside Clive Yelled, "If you lay your hand on him one more time, I'll boil you in your own piss !....."
The man now clearly annoyed, approached the red haired man and began punching him violently in his abdomen. The man squirmed and groaned in pain.
"If we don't get the signal, this man is going to kill Tyler soon, i must act now with or without the signal" Clive thought
Clive had already used the power of the Phoenix to weaken the bindings holding his shackles while the their torturer was busy with the red haired man. Now all he had to do was to tug at it for it to give away. Just as Clive was about to make his move, the anticipated signal resonated through the air. A loud horn blared, followed by the unmistakable sounds of catapults hurling their payloads against the castle walls. The siege had begun.
" Perfect timing "
The horn's blare was the cue Clive had been waiting for. He used the power he wasn't destined to wield but had nonetheless honed through years of relentless training. His shackles, weakened by the power, gave way with a satisfying clang, falling to the floor with a loud thud. The man turned, surprise flashing across his face.
"Wha.....?" he began, but Clive was already moving. He lunged at him, his hands reaching for the dagger. Their hands clashed, the cold metal of the dagger between them.
"Thought you could surprise me, boy?" the man sneered, trying to wrestle the dagger back. But Clive held on, his knuckles white with effort.
"What can i say? I'm full of surprises," Clive retorted, gritting his teeth as he slowly twisted the dagger towards the man. The man was strong, but Clive was desperate. He pushed back, using every ounce of his strength.
With a sudden jerk, Clive managed to twist the dagger free. The man stumbled back, surprise etched on his face. Without wasting a moment, Clive lunged, plunging the dagger into the man's chest.
The man gasped, his eyes wide with shock. He fell to the floor, the life draining from him. Clive stood over him, panting heavily, the metallic tang of blood filling his nostrils. Although he had won the fight, it had taken its toll on him. He was exhausted and his body ached in pain.
This was certainly not the first time Clive had killed someone, yet he always felt sad about taking another life still in its prime.
But there was no time to rest. He turned to Tyler, the red haired man quickly freeing him from his chains. and the other man from their chains. Tyler fell to the floor holding his abdomen where the man was punching him just a few minutes ago. He coughed and spat out blood.
" Are you alright Tyler? " Clive asked
Tyler groaned and spoke, " I'll live thanks to you, your grace "
Wade, the other young soldier lay slumped against the wall, his arm clutching his side, blood staining his tunic.
Clive coughed and nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He knew they had to move, fast. The battle raged outside, "let's out of here. Come and help me lift up Wade"
"My lord," he began, his voice hesitant, "my orders are to protect you at all costs. Leaving Wade…"
Clive cut him off, his gaze unwavering. "Your orders are to obey me, Tyler. We leave no one behind."
Tyler nodded, and together, they lifted Wade and they left the dungeon, stepping over the lifeless body of their tormentor. The sounds of the siege grew louder now. They navigated labyrinthine corridors, dodging patrolling guards and the debris of the collapsing castle. The siege was intensifying.
Finally, they reached the armory, where they found their weapons and armor. Clive strapped on his ancestral sword, the Phoenix sigil gleaming on the hilt. It was a constant reminder of his lineage, of the power he wasn't meant to wield, and the responsibility he now bore. As Clive grabbed his sword he looked at the intricately carved handle with ornate markings and a insignia of the Phoenix, proof that he was a member of the royal shields of the Phoenix. A giant red crystal was embedded in the handle, the mark of the dominant of the Phoenix. This sword had been gifted to Clive by his father when he was just 5 years old, it was thought that Clive would be the dominant and hence his sword was already prepared. But it quickly became clear that he would not awaken as the dominant of Phoenix. Nonetheless his father did not bother removing the gem. Clive always did wonder the reason for that. Perhaps his father understood the pain of not being chosen as the dominant of Phoenix since he himself was not chosen as a dominant.
A rough hand shook Clive from his thoughts. "My lord, are you alright?" Tyler's voice was laced with concern, cutting through the haze of exhaustion clouding Clive's mind.
"Aye," Clive rasped, his throat tight from disuse. "Just lost myself in thought for a moment." He winced, the throbbing pain in his shoulder a constant reminder of their recent ordeal.
"We need to escape this castle as soon as we can my lord, we are already behind schedule."
Clive Nodded" Very well, we shall need a pair of sturdy ropes if we are to scale down these battlements, i will go look for them, Take Wade and wait for me"
"Very well then my lord"
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone