Caitlin's POV (Good job to everyone who guessed!)

The prison was cold and ominous. The wind whistled through the endless maze of corridors and it raised goose bumps along my arms, hairs standing on end and a shiver rattling down my spine. No sense of hope or even a sliver of happiness could be sensed in the atmosphere of this hellish place – only despair and pain. My hands twitched, feeling the magic at my fingertips, prepared to use whatever measures I had to in order to get Jordan out alive. One of the few advantages that came with my... condition, was that I was extremely good at being stealthy. Controlling the shadows that I hid in meant that anyone who looked my way merely saw darkness where I stood – a veil of black shielding me from the curious eyes of the world.

I could hear whispers all around, echoing down the corridors from where the guards stood and the hisses from the prisoners as I passed them by. The madness that was seeping into their minds was evident, their chanting of unintelligible nonsense and the constant rocking I could see out of the corner of my eye made me wonder how long some of these people had been here. I could have become like them if Ianite hadn't freed me in the old world – if we hadn't beaten the Shadow in war and if Jordan hadn't made his decision that altered the minds of all those around him. Yes, I remembered. Even Jordan himself can only revisit the locked memories in times of stress and mental weakness, in the forms of nightmares and panic. It was my lady's gift to me, allowing me to remember the people who had freed me from my tormenter. I had therefore made it my vow to protect them in any way I could.

I ventured further down, heading into the bowels of the prison – using my magic to read the air ahead of me, paranoia causing me to move slower than usual. The sound of alarms blaring on the upper levels startled me, the pounding of heavy booted soles and raised voices thundering past my hiding space causing my breath to quicken and the caterwauling of the prisoners to cease for a few moments. Once I was sure that all the guards had cleared out, I slipped out of the shadows and snuck down the last staircase – the mossy cobblestone cracking in several places and the steps being so steep to walk down that it would be hard to escape without giving yourself a concussion.

"Jordan? Andor?"

All I could hear were pain filled groans and heart-wrenching whimpers, coming separately from the two cells in the corridor – the figures within the dark, moulding cells almost impossible to see in the blackness. The figures were thin, curled into balls and rocking slowly back and forth much like the other prisoners I had seen on my way down here – except these two were surrounded with blood spatters. Dry, crusted blood coated the floors of both cells, the stench of iron causing my nose to wrinkle in both disgust and sympathy for the pain these two had endured. I stepped towards the right-hand cell and gently broke the lock on the door – stepping into the cell and edging across the room to see the tortured soul. Old, dirty bandages and haunted eyes gave me all I needed to know – this was Andor. His wings were gone...

After getting Andor's attention, I unlocked the other cell knowing who would be inside. I sat next to the broken shell of a man and waited in silence – knowing that if I tried to get his attention it could drive him further into darkness. Jordan's head lifted after what felt like an age and his normally warm brown eyes were empty and void of all joy. Recognition flicked across his face, along with confusion – as if he was staring at a ghost he once knew. I sighed and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet and gesturing for him to help me carry Andor out of this hell hole. With one arm over each of our shoulders, the wounded prince began to stagger out of the prison – hopefully to freedom.

Jordan's POV

The piercing alarms would not stop ringing; growing louder with each staircase we climbed in our search for an exit. I had no idea how this figure had gotten into the prison and how we were managing to sneak past groups of guards without being seen with a heavily injured prisoner wedged between us. It took a lot of effort to move my feet forward, most of my energy spent on trying not to pass out from exhaustion and malnutrition.

The girl refused to talk to me, no matter how many conversations I tried to initiate – on constant high alert that the guards would find us and throw us back into our cells, our saviour included. Andor merely dragged his feet, only really taking some of the weight off our backs whenever the sound of raised voices got a little too close for his comfort. Soon we reached the courtyard where we had entered in the first place, the shouts of individuals who were clearly not part of this facility and sounds of a sword fight clashing in the background. The girl pulled Andor and me over to the side, a conflicted expression on her face as the voices came closer and closer, the familiar voices nudging at the corner of my mind – faces floating before my eyelids but no names coming to mind.

"Listen to me. They'll take you home; you'll be safe with them for now. Try to heal, recover from the trauma you've been through. Help one another; you went through this together so it's better to heal together. If you want to get in contact with me, go to the End. Leave some form of note there – with Ianite, she'll know how to reach me and I'll come running as soon as it's safe enough to travel. Do not tell them who I am."

With those words, she propped Andor up against the wall and took off running, the shadows swallowing her up until she was gone from sight – as if she had never been here at all. My mind raced, Ianite was here? Was she the same as my Ianite or would she not even recognise me? How would she react to the torment Andor and I had been through?

My internal rambling was interrupted by the presence of four individuals rushing round the corner, almost colliding with poor Andor who was struggling to remain conscious against the wall. They all stumbled to a halt and stared at the pair of us, relief and confusion in their eyes as they took in our disreputable state. I couldn't really blame them, we were both covered in dried blood and our clothes were dark and stained with the grime that had coated our cell floors. Now I saw them in front of me, their names came back to me – Tom, Sonja, Wag and Tucker. I gave them a small smile, not willing to open my mouth until they broke out of their stunned silence.

"What the hell did they do to you two?"

This was Tucker's initial reaction, disbelief and anger in his voice that rose in volume as the question went on. I shook my head, knowing we had little time until the guards came hunting for the two high priority prisoners and I didn't want my friends to end up in the same state I was in.

"We need to get out of here. I'll explain later, escaping here is more important than catching up. I presume however you got here is still available or do we have to improvise?"

Tom grabbed Andor, slinging him over his back as gently as he could, given the agony, Andor was already in and started to jog back towards the main entrance to the facility, presumably, a dock since I knew the prison stood in the ocean – how else would non-godlike workers get in and out? Sonja and Tucker ran ahead with their swords drawn, their choice of bright green armour being ridiculous as it meant they stuck out like sore thumbs. Wag walked beside me, his hood still up but his eyes visible in the dim light – blazing with anger and fury, not at me but at those who had done this to myself and Andor. It was comforting to have his quiet presence by my side.

We rounded the corner as a unit, Tom and Andor protected by Sonja and Tucker – with Wag handing me an extra sword and covering my back. I could see what looked like a bright purple RV, floating just above the water's surface – that was obviously our escape route but between us and freedom stood an army of guards. They were all dressed in the same armour my friends were wearing, their swords glistening in the light of the sun, the same expression of fury and confidence across each of their faces.

Exchanging looks, we moved forwards as one – not wanting to be deterred when we had come so far. Tom and Andor snuck around the side of the building, edging across the courtyard in an attempt to reach the guard's station, according to Wag that was where all their actual belongings were taken – including anything that belonged to myself or to Andor. Nobody noticed them moving, they seemed to be hidden from sight yet we could see them, it was odd, to say the least, but I didn't particularly want to point it out.

Sonja and Tucker barrelled into the line, all caution is thrown to the wind as they descended upon the guards. Wag and I skirted around the outside of the fight, heading towards the RV in hopes of getting it started and escaping this hellhole. Thankfully we made it with little confrontation, excluding the occasional guard that we had to knock unconscious and throw to the side. The doors opened automatically and I was greeted by the sight of Andor, slumped in a chair and being tended to by a worried Martha, who hadn't noticed me yet. Tom was on the top of the RV, stressing and attempting to refill all the fuel tanks before Sonja and Tucker got on board.

"Jordan! Thank Ianite you two are alright. Well... alright isn't the word I'd use to describe Andor."

Martha's kind voice brought a sense of relief to the rising panic I was feeling whilst watching the battle unfold outside, her hand grabbing me by the chin and turning my face to look me straight in the eye, her knowing violet eyes flickering with emotions I couldn't decipher. She seemed to know what I would refuse to tell the others when they asked, seeing the demons I had yet to face and the new ones that had come to fill the empty void that was my mind.

I stepped backwards, jerking my head away and turning to climb onto the top of the RV, grabbing the fuel out of Tom's hands and putting it in the correct slots – ignoring the yammering from Tom that he knew what he was doing. It was good to be doing something useful. Sonja and Tucker were edging towards the RV, keeping the armada of guards between them and the prison instead of them and the escape route as it had been a few minutes earlier. Wag was standing nearby, waving his hands in some intricate rhythm and chanting, causing fireballs and waves of TNT to fall from the sky – some of the guards being catapulted into the air and slammed back into the ground.

Sonja and Tucker jumped on board, ignoring the angry shouts of the guards and we fired up the engines, Tom lunging back into the RV to strap himself in whilst I remained on top – holding myself against the other side of the engine and allowing the wind to buffet against my face. The sea-sprayed as we passed over it, the salty mist dampening my clothes and causing my hair to spring up in an unruly mess. I could hear the others laughing and messing around inside the RV without me but it didn't particularly bother me. I was alive, Andor was alive and my friends had come to save me. They may not have been the people who had actually saved me, the mysterious girl was to thank for that. I was going home.

With a lot of questions that had to be answered and a lot of scars that needed to be healed.

A/N

Welcome to 2016 everyone.

To start off this new year, here is a new chapter (finally I know).

I'm very sorry that it has been two whole months since I last updated, I had hit a bit of a wall that required a lot of time to get around - time I didn't have to spare. I'm in my second last year of secondary school (Im British for those who dont know) and the level of work and extracurricular I do is stealing all my free time. 

But my new years resolution is to write at least 200 words a day.

Which means there should be a new chapter at maximum every 10 days. Which is good news for you guys!

Thank you all so much for the support you guys have given this story whilst I have been AWOL, we hit over 2000 reads which is phenomenal!

Hopefully I'll finish this story before Mianite Season 3 comes around aha. (#BlameDec)

Happy Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy whatever you celebrate and here's to another year of amazing writing.

Much love <3

Caitlin