Warnings: mentions of blood and death

~Preston's P.O.V.~

Lungs searing, muscles screaming in protest, I crash my way through the forest, hot tears spilling down my cheeks as I leave my friends behind. Somewhere behind me I can hear the sound of pursuit, and despite every part of my body willing me to stop running, I push on. I pass mobs of all sorts, but don't pay any mind to them, instead focusing on forcing myself to keep moving. Branches whip past my face as I dodge around trees and plow through hedges, eating up distance and not stopping for a moment until my body basically shuts itself down, and I trip, crashing and skidding across the forest floor.

I lay there dazed for a moment, my world spinning, everything a blur, tears clouding my vision. Shallow scratches sting from where branches and thorns raked my skin, and I partially regret taking off my diamond armour. But with it on, I might not have escaped. Just visible through the thick canopy of leaves, they sky is a dull blue, and sunlight is just starting to seep through the trees. Pushing myself into a sitting position, I pant heavily, lungs heaving and burning as they gulp in large intakes of air. It's hard to tell how long I've been running-all I know is that I'm completely and utterly alone.

And that my friends are gone.

Fresh bright orange tears spring to my eyes, and I back against a birch tree, pulling my knees up to my chest and sobbing loudly. After all this time, after everything we've been through, they're all gone. Taken by some stupid Rouges. They could very well be dead! Just the thought of it causes me to bawl harder, shivering and hugging myself tightly, grief streaking through me.

I don't know how long I sit here, crying until there's no more tears to shed, and then some. By the time I raise my head, still whimpering feebly, sunlight is glowing through the trees, much brighter than before. With shaking knees I rise unsteadily to my feet, using the tree behind me for support. I wipe the excess tears from my face with the sleeve of my hoodie, sniffling and rubbing at my eyes. I shake my head, trying to pull myself together. Come on Preston. You're better than this. I scold myself, exhaling shakily. There's no reason I should automatically assume they're dead. That jag Roxanne probably has them locked up somewhere, just waiting for me to come in and beg for her to release them. She's probably going to try and use them as leverage against me. Ha! Like I'll fall for that.

Dissing Roxanne makes me feel slightly better, and I laugh to myself, a smile spreading onto my face. I re equip my armour, latch my sword to my side, and start marching back the way I came. She'll be expecting me to come back, to try and challenge her, and the somehow use the imprisonment of my friends against me. But I'm better than that now. Through this time I've been travelling, I've changed from my former self. I'm smarter. Braver. And now... I'm not alone.

But before I go confront her... I'm going to need some backup.

~~~

~Mitch's  P.O.V.~

Two weeks later...

     It seems like months have past since our abduction back in the birch forest. But it's hard to say how long we've really been here. There's no sense of time in this cold, dark, cell. The only light source available to us is through a small barred peep hole in the rotting wooden door, where a torch flickers silently in the damp long corridor. The hall serves to connect all the prison cells. The only time that stupid door opens is when Rogues come to deliver us more food or water. My stomach churns at the imagine of the revolting food, if it even deserves to be called that. At first the five of us had denied the food, preferring to starve to death rather than eat the putrid smelling glop. We survived solely on the limited supply of stale water we were brought. But eventually we knew we'd have to eat something, so we forced ourselves to consume it. The first time we did, Vikk threw up, and the rest of us bore awful stomach aches for hours. A small hole in the corner of the room serves as our 'luxury' toilet, and needless to say the five of us distance ourselves as much as we can from that corner of the cell.

     I wince in pain as I shift, causing the rusty shackles on my wrists to rub against my already raw skin. All our hands are bound behind our backs by old sharp rusty handcuffs, which steadily gnaw at our skin, leaving them bleeding and searing in pain. A thick long chain runs from the cuffs to a stake in the centre of the room, a little closer to the back wall than the door. The chain is long enough for any of us to reach the sides and back of the cell, but because of the placement of the stake, none of us can venture within five blocks of the door. None of us have truly slept, more so just rested at random intervals, unable to get any decent shut eye. Somewhere off to the side I'm aware of Rob whimpering in pain as he 'sleeps', curled up in a tight ball on the floor.

      At one meal Rob attempted to attack the guard, launching himself at the man, face twisted in pure rage. The chains binding Rob stopped his assault however, and he was tugged back to the ground, cracking his head off the cold stone floor. The Rogue sneered, shouting at Rob, and then proceeded to kick him in the gut and strike at his head with a diamond sword. Rob managed to twist out of the way, but the blade still cut into his face, drawing an ugly long gash running from above his eye, all the way down to a little past his chin. Fed up, Jerome then leapt forward and managed to get close enough to lock his jaws around the guards forearm, tearing at his skin. Long story short Rob is now baldy cut up, and Jerome is forced to wear a muzzle. On top of that all of us are generally under fed, weak, and exhausted.

     "Do you think Preston will ever come for us...?" Lachlan croaks, face unhealthily pale, voice gruff.
     "He wouldn't abandon us." Jerome assures Lachlan, voice muffled by the heavy metal muzzle strapped to his face.
     "Well I know that, Jerome." Lachlan says, rolling his eyes. "But what if he ran into trouble? Or what if the Rogues found him? He could be dead for all we know..."
      "Rob said Preston spent his entire life not getting caught by Rogues, even when they surrounded him all the time. He'll come." I point out.

      But honestly, I'm saying it to convince myself more than anyone. And even then I still have doubts. The room falls silent once more, and I rest my head against the hard stone wall, shutting my eyes and attempting to get some sleep, even if it's only for a couple minutes. And then suddenly, there's shouting.

      My eyes snap open, and I notice from the corner of my eye everyone else perks up at the commotion. Even Rob stirs from his sleep, one eye half shut from where the gash on his face crosses it. Chains rattle and clank as we all stand, grouping together in a tight cluster. The shouting is much closer now, and I can clearly hear the panic in most shouts, and thumps and bangs and the clashing of swords. Then with a roar, earsplitting and just outside our door, everything falls silent. A figure stands in the doorway, blocking out the light from the peep hole. The five of us group together tighter, and I can hear a low and threatening growl emit from Jerome. Suddenly there's a flash of purple light, and the heavy oak door is shattering like a twig, sending up clouds of dust. We all flinch, stepping back. And then out from the dust, walks in none other than Enderlox.

     I feel my heart start to quicken as memories of our last encounter pop up. Enderlox's glowing purple eyes pierce the darkness of the cell, torchlight spilling in from the blasted out doorway. Enderlox's wing is still in a sling from when I broke it. My throat runs dry as our eyes lock, and I subconsciously move behind my friends a bit. From behind Enderlox three more figures step into the cell, who I do not recognize. One is some sort of blue amphibian, with orange cheeks and thick whiskers sprouting from them. A large light blue fanned out tail stretches behind him, and a ridge just like it runs down the middle of his head. His eyes are black, like Preston's, but have a sheen to them. The second is, simply, a blue monkey. The third is a green lion, with a grassy mane. Both wield enchanted swords.

     "Enderlox? What are you doing here? And who are they?" Rob interrogates weakly, brow furrowing.
      "Long story, I'll explain on the way out. This is Bluemonkey and Weedlion. Their real names are classified, so that will have to do for introductions. And this other fella here is Quentin, one of my best friends, and our explosives expert. Now hurry, spread yourselves out."

     We all glance at each other nervously, but spread out none the less. Enderlox strides forward, and steps behind Vikk. For a second I fear he's going to kill Vikk, but then he reaches down, grabs the handcuffs, and pries them open with his bare hands as if they're toys. He moves to Lachlan, then Rob, me, and Jerome. After releasing Jerome, he reaches up, and cuts through the steel muzzle with his claws, letting it fall away to the ground with a clang. Jerome thanks him, rubbing his jaw.

     "Now come on, we need to get you to the palace. If... That's what you can really call it. How fast can you guys run?"
     "Not very fast, we've been fed with disgusting glop for the past who knows long. We're starving and weak and tired. And Rob's injured." Vikk reports.
      "Just try your best. Quentin, lead the way."

     Quentin nods, and ducks through the door. Enderlox follows, and Weedlion motions for the rest of us to proceed ahead of him and Bluemonkey. We all duck through the door, traveling down the humid narrow hallway in a light jog.

     "So... How did guys get here again?" Jerome asks.
      Enderlox glances back at him briefly. "Preston brought us here. Here's what I know from piecing together conversations: You guys got kidnapped just outside of the Spell kingdom, and Preston managed to get away. Preston then tracked down Seto who just so happened to still be in the kingdom, waiting for Rob to come and formally gain his position of ruler. And basically to sum up the past two weeks really quickly... Preston with Seto's help managed to quickly visit each of the kingdoms, rally up a ton of people, and then storm this place coming to free you and gain dominance over the kingdom. Last I checked Preston was headed to the castle to confront Roxanne. My and a few others orders are to bring you there." Enderlox summarizes.
      "Wow. He did all that in two weeks?" Rob affirms in awe.
      "Yes."
      "Preston's a boss." Lachlan praises.

     Soon enough we reach the exit, and even from a distance I can hear the cries and struggles of fighting. Quentin flings a block of TNT at the wall, and it explodes on impact, tearing a huge hole out of it and into the open. We rush into the open, and I survey the area.

    There's are bodies everywhere, and literally hundreds of people are fighting, blood caking the ground. I recognize quite a few people here, from all sorts of kingdoms, brought together as one to fight for the same cause. I see Stampy and Squid, fighting along side each other. Seto and his group of mages are felling opponents left and right, rushing around and healing tons of people on our side. I even spot Xenos amongst them. I see three assassins, who I remember from way back a long time ago when Vikk ambushed us, trying to kill me. I see Skybrine, taking down Rogues by the second, not even breaking a sweat. WitherMU is releasing Nether below him, transformed into the from that looks uncannily like an actual Wither, skulls flying down like rain. And what really grabs my attention is the young Enderdragon plowing through the enemies ranks, none other than Ian riding it, black sunglasses gleaming in the sunlight.

     "You weren't kidding." I mumble in awe.

     Enderlox roars, and immediately WitherMU and Ian, along with his pet dragon, come rushing over.

     "You are weak and we must get you to the palace before you're hurt or worse, killed. This EnderDragon is young, but will easily be able to transport two of you, along with Ian. WitherMU can take two also." Enderlox explains.
     "But one of them is going to have to stay behind, Enderlox." Ian points out. "We can't risk leaving them here."
      Enderlox shakes his head. "I know, Ian, but what choice do we have? We have no other mutants capable of flying! All our winged mutants are occupied."
    
      WitherMU lets out an intelligible ghastly cry. Enderlox's eyes widen, and he shakes his head.

      "Jason that won't work!" Enderlox cries, seeming to understand him.

      WitherMU cries again, eyes narrowing, harsher this time. Enderlox snarls back in some sort of secret mob language.

      "What is he saying?" Rob demands.
       Enderlox turns to him. "He's saying that I should carry one of you. But I don't know if my wing is ready yet. It has been almost a month, but Mitch broke a major bone, and I can risk jeopardizing myself and another because of it."
     
       I hang my head in shame.

       Jerome yelps as an arrow whizzes over his head. "Can't you try? Please Enderlox, we can't just leave someone behind."
       "I'm sorry, Jerome. I can't-"
       "Actually scratch what Jerome said." Lachlan buts in. "We won't leave someone behind."

       Enderlox turns to him, eyes wide in disbelief.

      "That's right. Either you carry one of us, or we all stay until we can get someone else to help, or we die. Your choice. And Preston's gonna be real angry if one of us gets hurt." Vikk threatens.
     
        Enderlox glares at him, the gears in his mind turning. Suddenly Skybrine slides over, scoffing in exasperation.

        "For Notch's sake, Ty! Just carry one of them will you?" He chides, yellow eyes narrowing.
        "But Adam-"
         "Your wing, is fine. Now hurry the flip up, this is no time for arguing."

        And with that Skybrine is gone again. Enderlox sighs in defeat.

        "Alright I'll carry one of you. But I'm carrying Vikk, since he's the lightest."

        We cheer in victory, even the young Enderdragon roaring its pleasure. Even though he tries to fight it, a smile touches Enderlox's lips, and he rubs the nape of his neck. Brow furrowing in concentration, the sling over his wing is suddenly torn to shreds, a strong and mended wing bursting out from its prison. He flexes it, gives it a few test flaps, and then launches into the air.

      "Let's go!"

       Enderlox curves back around, swoops low to the ground, and hooks his hands under Vikk's arms, lifting him easily into the air. WitherMU floats close to the ground, and Jerome and Lachlan hop onto him, hanging onto his ribcage as he flies speedily after Enderlox. The Enderdragon kneels low on the ground, and Mitch and Rob climb on. Ian lashes the reins, and with that the dragon rears up, roars, and takes off after the others.

~~~
Question of the chapter:

Predictions of when they get to the castle?

My answer: 🤐