The “record room” was visible again, all traces of the grey void having vanished from sight. Gabriel shook his head to clear his vision, running over to the heap containing Era and Caine as soon as he was physically able.
“Kid,” he whispered frantically. “Era. Era, speak to me. Are you alright?”
Era groaned, trying to roll over. Caine sputtered as Era’s elbow knocked hard against the man’s ribcage, and both of them scrambled away from each other.
“Motherfucker, I’ll kill you!!” Gabriel roared, rushing towards the suddenly pathetic man.
Caine panted, trying to scrabble to his feet. “Guards! Guards!! Assault!! The Archmage is under assault!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. His hand reached for the doorknob, but it shook too violently for him to grab it. As a group of guards burst into the room, the Archmage stumbled and fell to the ground, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he entered a seizure.
“Freeze, criminals!” the guards yelled, brandishing spears and razor-sharp swords.
“Wait, we didn’t… please…” Era mumbled far too quietly for anyone to hear.
“Let me explain—” Gabriel started.
“On the ground, both of you!!”
“Hands on the floor!!”
“Call the Archmage’s apprentice, someone get help for him!!”
“I said on the ground!!”
Era and Gabriel complied begrudgingly, lying out flat on the floor with their arms at their sides. Era was still groggy, fighting off a powerful migraine and only half-conscious at best. Gabriel gritted his teeth as they had their hands bound behind them, and the guards marched them off to the darkest corner of the castle.
They arrived at the dungeon after nearly a quarter-hour of slowly trudging the halls. Most of the cells were empty; some held emaciated prisoners who avoided their gaze and kept their mouths shut. Era and Gabriel were thrown in a small cell, their ropes being replaced with heavy shackles.
“Try anything, mad-mages,” the guard captain warned, “and we will use deadly force. It is only by the mercy of Our Majesty the King that you lunatics aren’t killed on the spot.”
“Yes, sir,” Era mumbled sleepily, slumping into the stone wall.
“At least you’re cooperative.” The guard snapped his fingers, and another guard came at his beckon. “Get the Archmage’s apprentice to guard this cell,” he ordered, “once he has attended to the Archmage himself.”
“Right away, sir,” the guard acknowledged, saluting before dashing back up the stairs.
Grunting in approval, the captain gave Era and Gabriel a last disapproving glance before marching back upstairs.
“Well, this certainly isn’t how I expected my day to end,” Gabriel muttered.
“Sorry… my fault…”
“Era, go to sleep. You’ve earned it. You did just fine.”
Barely able to summon the strength to nod, he passed out cold on the chill earth beneath them. Gabriel sighed, getting himself as comfortable as he was able, and started counting bricks on the ceiling.
“Sir,” Dashito pleaded in a whispered tone, “please answer me. Are you alright?”
The Archmage, stretched out before him on the ground, let out a low groan. Sighing in relief, Dashito helped him to a sitting position.
“Where are the mad-mages? Have they been executed yet?” Caine asked blearily.
“No, sir,” he explained, “they’re being held in the dungeons. I am to guard them.”
“Why you, eh? Why not me?” Caine sounded almost insulted.
“They don’t want you to be hurt again, sir. And they think I’m powerful enough to handle a couple rogue mages.”
“Pfeh! ‘Rogue mage,’ is he?” he said, smirking. “Either way, you should be able to handle them. Or not. For all I know, they’ll rip you apart.” He stood up shakily and dusted off his robes. “Good luck, though.”
Blinking uncertainly, Dashito nodded. “Maybe I’ll bring some back-up with me…”
“And when you’re done with that, bring up some tea and scones,” he ordered, “and hold off on the lemon this time. I’m sick of it.”
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