A/N: We're at chapter 25 can you believe it?? I know I can't! This is probably one of the most action packed ones to date, so I would love any and all feedback you can provide. Thank you for reading As They Fall! <3

We waited for what felt like an eternity before Lord Marsh emerged from his tent and strode off in the direction of the wooden hut, his breaths coming out in short puffs of white fog, in time with his impatient gait. The moment he was out of sight we stepped out of the shadows and beelined for the cage, treading through the snow with precise and silent steps. There were two fresh guards standing watch near Lord Marsh's tent, engrossed in the game of dice they were playing on top of a large barrel. Merek darted forward, crouching behind a large, empty wagon, then whistled. At once, one of the guards spun around and scanned his surroundings.

"Did you hear that?" he asked his older companion, who was busy sipping from a flask.

"D'no what yer talk'n 'bout," he slurred in reply.

"I'll go look, stay here," sighed the young soldier, approaching the wagon warily. Merek had climbed up onto the driver's seat, his legs bunched in anticipation. When the soldier rounded the corner, he sprung, landing behind him with a muffled thud, his forearm pressed to his mouth, while his good hand held a dagger to his throat. The soldier let out a muffled cry but stopped when Merek dug the blade into his exposed skin.

"Call the other one," he hissed, his lips almost grazing the soldier's ear, "If you cry for help I'll kill both of you. Understood?" The soldier nodded weakly, his eyes wide with fear. Merek removed his forearm slowly and the young man took a ragged breath, before he said,

"Molin, come look at this!" Molin let out a grunt and lumbered over to the cart. Without a moment's hesitation Merek slit the young guards throat, his crimson blood staining the snow in a spray of steaming droplets. I grimaced at the sight. I had a morbid fascination with the way Merek could kill so effortlessly. I had killed twelve men in my entire life, and all of them had left a sour taste of guilt in my mouth, no matter how cruel they had been. Before Molin could cry out at the sight of his young companion, Merek dispatched him with a swift strike and tossed both of their bodies into the back of the wagon. He kicked snow over the patches of blood, before nodding to us and continuing toward the cage.

When we reached my uncle, my knees felt weak with relief to see his worn, but breathing figure. Tears sprang unbidden to my eyes and I wiped them away hastily before reaching into the cage to gently touch his shoulder. He groaned and opened his eyes, blinking tiredly in the dim light.

"Amelia? Is that you?" he croaked, his lips dry and cracked with thirst.

"Yes, uncle," I whispered, clutching his hand through the bars, relishing in the comfort his soft, familiar hands brought.

"It can't be. I must be dreaming again." He closed his eyes and dropped his head onto his chest.

"You're not dreaming uncle." I squeezed his hand tighter, willing him to look at me once more.

"Not a dream? Have you come to take me to the afterlife?" As we spoke, his warm, brown eyes were filled with child-like wonder, seeing everything and nothing at the same time. My heart fell as I saw what remained of my strong, intelligent uncle, nothing more than a broken shell, his mind fragmented and anguished, just as the matriarchs was.

"No, uncle. I've come to rescue you, just as you rescued me all those years ago." My tears were flowing freely now, as I stroked his face, tracing the lines etched into his skin by the passage of time. A small flicker of recognition stirred in his eyes and he raised his hand to my own, holding it tight against his face.

"Please my child. Save yourself, you cannot save me," he sobbed.

"Don't be foolish," I sniffled, "I came all this way to save you, I'm not going to give up now." Uncle Henry glanced up at me with a sad look, before he closed his eyes, overcome with exhaustion.

I glanced at the locked door Merek was trying to pick, his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated. He let out a grunt of frustration and glanced up at me, shaking his head.

"We need the key, I can't pick it," he sighed, his frustration evident as he tugged at the door in vain.

"Shit," I cursed, withdrawing my hands from the cage, "I'll check inside the tent."

"We'll keep watch, be careful," warned Charlie, his anxiety evident in his expression.

"I will," I promised, slipping through the tent flap at the entrance. It was larger than I expected inside, a fire burning in the centre, smoke escaping through a hole in the roof. The room was furnished with a thick assortment of furs that covered the cold ground, a trestle table laden with maps, several rolls of parchment, a stack of books, quills and an inkpot. Several armchairs surrounded the fire and a large cot lay in the far corner. I dashed over to the table and rifled through the paraphernalia, searching for the key. A flurry of wings caught my attention and I look up to see a raven swoop in through the hole in the roof. I blinked in surprise at seeing the bird, but quickly shook my head and resumed my search. To my dismay the bird began to squawk loudly and I shooed it, waving my arms frantically in attempt to spook it.

"Shoo!" it parroted, hopping along the floor toward me. When it was no more than a foot away it raised its wings, and began to transform, its features contorting into strange shapes as it grew until it towered a me. Before I could even register what had happened, I found myself face to face with Rihnunir himself, paralysed by his bright, yellow eyes. His features were so warped from the gentle beauty of the other elves it was hard to believe he was one. His lips curved upward, splitting his face into a twisted grin, revealing sharp white teeth and black gums. I opened my mouth to call for help but in a flash, he was behind me, his elongated fingers covering my mouth, a thin blade with an ornate hilt held to my neck. I was at his mercy, just like the young soldier.

"Let's go meet your little friends," his voice crashed into my skull and I let out a muffled shriek of pain. I felt violated, his voice invading the space in my mind where only my own voice belonged. He guided me out of the tent to where Merek and Charlie were cautiously waiting by my uncle's cage.

"Don't move. Don't speak. Just listen," commanded Rihnunir, choosing to speak aloud this time, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. Charlie removed his hand from the pommel of his sword but glared at the sorcerer, completely unafraid. "You, the blonde one, you will use the rope you carry to bind the other two, then I will tie you up. You will do this. Or I will kill the girl and feed you her heart." Charlie flinched at his words and slowly unravelled the length of rope he'd slung across his shoulder. He tied Merek up first and then tugged him forward and bound my hands too, the rope scraping against my wrists as he pulled it taut. Rihnunir removed the blade and bound Charlie, leading us in the direction of the cabin.

I cast a glance over my shoulder at my uncle's sleeping figure, stumbling as Rihnunir tugged on the rope, returning my gaze to Charlie's back. Seeing my uncle had renewed my determination and I was desperate to get all of us out this alive. When we entered the hut, Elizabeth was already kneeling on the ground, bleeding from fresh cuts on her lip and cheek. She glanced up at us, clearly devastated we had also been captured.

"Your hunch was correct Lord Marsh," drawled Rihnunir, pushing the three of us to the ground. Unbound, Elizabeth reached out to catch Merek who flashed her a grateful look. Glancing up from where we were sprawled on the ground, Rihnunir and Lord Marsh formed a menacing image.

"I know my daughter, even if she is a pathetic excuse for a Marsh," he responded, looking down at Elizabeth with nothing but disgust in his eyes. She bowed her head in shame and leaned against Merek.

"Even so, she put on an impressive show, wailing about being lost and how much she missed you," stated Rihnunir, giving Elizabeth a cursory glance before settling on me. I met his yellow gaze without shrinking, my jaw clenched and tilted upward in defiance. Lord Marsh stepped forward and began to remove our weapons, frisking us up and down in search of hidden weapons, passing over the dragon tears to my relief. After finding several knives of various sizes hidden on Merek he, bundlin up our assortment of weapons before tossing them into a chest in the adjoining room.

"What are you going to do with us?" I spat, glowering at him as he returned to Rihnunir's side. Rihnunir bore an amused smirk at my words but said nothing, while Lord Marsh acted as if he hadn't even heard me, his gaze fixed on Elizabeth who had still not looked up. After a few moments, he turned on heel and left, pausing to mutter a few words in Rihnunir's ear.

"Father please!" begged Elizabeth, her eyes glossy with unshed tears as she looked up from the ground. Her plea fell on deaf ears and he left without so much as a glance back at her.

"What an interesting man your father is," mused Rihnunir, staring at her before procuring a large obsidian rock from one of the many folds within his black robes, muttering a few unintelligible words. As he uttered the final word it morphed into the staff we had seen him carrying days before. The chunk of obsidian was now fused inside a cage-like shape atop a gnarled rod of what appeared to be ironbark. He rapped the base of it against the ground with a thud before pointing it at Elizabeth who shrank away from it in fear. Despite her struggles, Rihnunir managed to touch the tip of it to her forehead. As it made contact with her skin she froze, her pupils dilating until there was barely any green left, the light leaving her eyes as they became glazed over. Rihnunir handed her the thin blade he had held to my throat, before vanishing with a swish of his cloak, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Elizabeth! Are you okay?" demanded Merek, positioning himself in front of her. Elizabeth opened her mouth and a heartbeat later she was shrieking on the floor, her body convulsing and writhing as if she were on fire. In his panic, Merek tore his hand-less arm free of the rope, burning a layer of skin off in the process, before ripping his other hand free. I felt like I was frozen in place, watching her screaming and wailing over and over as Merek hovered above her, unsure of what to do. Getting to my feet I headed over to the small room our weapons had been stored in, tugging Charlie along behind me. Together we heaved the chest open and rummaged through our things, attempting to pull my dagger out of its sheath.

"Look out!" came Merek's cry just as the door slammed shut behind us, the lock clicking into place. I turned to see Elizabeth's face in the barred window at the top of the door, her lips contorted into a malevolent grin.