Dedicated to Hope-Adon because inspiration.

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Chapter 6 - Retrieval

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"This would be much easier if you were to comply," said the Commander. 

Skye didn't answer. 

She couldn't. 

Her vision was glassy. Her head was lost in a buzzing that replaced silence itself. She was vaguely aware of how much of her blood stained the table top. The only way she could endure this torture as the blade rose and fell over her skin was to fall back into the very place the blade assaulted--her soul. 

There was a light in there. It warmed her thoughts, pushed her on, kept her mouth shut and her stubborn determination high if she embraced it, which she did. She didn't have another choice. Outside of the small bubble of security was a cold, war-torn surface full of exquisite misery. 

"Do you know--" began the Commander, his sentence interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open on creaking hinges. 

"Commander, sir! Silverborn have been sighted outside Darni. They appear to be preparing for an attack."

The Commander's low growl made the hairs rise on Skye's neck. "I doubt it. The Silverborn would have run back to Alguarde with their tails between their legs by now. To be out still is suicide for them."

"Just reporting what the scouts have seen, sir."

A few more words were exchanged between them that Skye tuned out, once more slipping below the surface as unconsciousness tried to take her. She felt the Commander's eyes study her for a long, heavy moment before he placed the blade on the table directly between her shackled hands and left the room, leaving her alone in the half-lit room with the blade that glowed the colour of twilight. 

The light that'd nursed her changed with the slam of the door. It became urging, telling her to take this chance before it slipped away. 

Shackles only open with magic. Skye's bleary thought drew her eyes to the soul blade resting on the table, glinting at her. It has to be magic. Has to be.

Her fingers scraped the hilt of the table for the discarded blade. The metallic handle was warm against her skin. She brought the tip of the blade around and dug the point into the thin line until the shackles split. Her eyes were closed as the shackle around her left wrist snapped open, revealing the bloody skin it'd held. 

Skye took the blade in her now-free hand. Her fingers refused to move correctly, but the second wrist should be easier to free, shouldn't it? Lines of fire traced up the arm she didn't want to look at. She refused to acknowledge the damage the Commander had done to it and remember the Master's mark. 

Just have to open the cuff. Just have to open... She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep herself together, ...open the cuff. 

A wave of dizziness swept her thoughts away, leaving her face feeling strangely numb. 

Specks of light danced across her vision, and Skye succumbed to darkness. 

*+*+*+*

With movement inside the head-height walls that encased Darni's urban centre, Tayne knew they didn't have any time left to prepare. 

He checked Wing's girth and threw himself into the saddle, standing up in the stirrups to face the seventy-odd Silverborn gathered behind him. 

"Silverborn!" called Tayne. "You have your assignments! You know what is at stake--something the corruption thinks to have claimed for itself! Once inside the gate, the serpents follow Andro, the eagles with Nissa, and the foxes with Luke! I shall have the honour of fighting beside the rest of you!" 

He drew his sword, raising it above his head to let the gleaming metal catch the late afternoon sun with his shield as his chest. 

"The corruption has taken Darni, and we have little time before the shadow cycle brings a well-known hell upon this land. We strike swift and we strike now to avenge the souls of those the corruption has claimed!"

The Silverborn mirrored his action, holding their various weapons to the skies. The unified song of metal on leather resounded through the air, racing down the hill to clash with the beat of chaotic organisation inside Darni's walls as they realised they were under attack. 

Tayne turned towards Darni and pointed his sword at the gates. 

"Charge!" 

The Silverborn didn't stop as the corrupted inside tried to close the gates on them. They crashed through, cutting down the humans that had likely once made up the population of the town before it was claimed. The Silverborn's sub divisions fanned out as previously planned, covering the large, tiered town to stop anyone from escaping without notice while Tayne's larger group continued on to the centre.

A few metres in, and Tayne knew the Silverborn had another problem. 

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the heavy feeling plaguing him. "Wrain, they've got a dampener here somewhere!" 

The elder Silverborn grunted his agreement. "It's getting stronger the closer we get to the centre. That's where it'll be. Find it and shut it down."

Tayne swung his sword at a corrupted trying to take a shot at Wing's legs. Her armour should protect the mare, but there was always the chance a corrupted would get lucky. Another corrupted attempted to hit him with an arrow, forcing Tayne to raise his shield to deflect it. 

The mare's hooves rang out on the cobblestone ground. With the other Silverborn horses adding to the noise, they were thunder rampaging through the streets. The corrupted stood little chance at mounting a defence against them, and they soon realised it, retreating into the narrower alley ways and buildings to likely regroup where the Silverborn couldn't use their horses.  

They reached the centre, marked by a broken fountain. 

The dampener's effect, as Wrain had predicted, had only grown stronger. As he suspected most of the other Silverborn were doing, he drew a deep breath in through his nose in an attempt to ground himself. 

"Silverborn," said Tayne, voice quiet. He dismounted Wing, and his knights followed suit. "Find the dampener. It could be any of the objects around here and it's probably under some illusion spell as well as maintaining one. Stay in pairs. Find it. Break it. Spread out!" 

They moved to do his command. 

Tayne found it hard to concentrate. Around him, the streets were filled with signs of a struggle. A broken lamp post. Dried blood pooled and spattered across various surfaces. Market stalls that would never be repaired. He couldn't help but imagine the terror the people had felt as demons invaded their home. 

That terror bit into his thoughts, slowly tearing the breach in his mental armour wider. 

It's the dampener, Tayne told himself. The shield was heavy on his arm. The dampener inhibits positive emotions. 

Tayne focused on his sword, feeling it warm through his gloves as it sensed magic. Several objects caught his attention--abandoned stalls, empty crates, a wagon, a small blacksmith's shop, the list went on--but none of them seemed right. After a minute of searching, moving around the open courtyard area, he was no closer to locating the dampener and he suspected he knew the reason. 

Why did it have to be the shadow element to become corrupted? 

It wasn't the first time he'd asked himself that question. According to Wrain, shadow, being the element of illusion, was the most frustrating to deal with. Sentinels who wielded the shadow element could trick the eyes, hide things in the image of another and toy with the internal workings of a person's mind if they were skilled enough. Take one thought and twist it until you'd convinced them of another.

And thus, realised Tayne, hopelessness sinking in. Is why any one of these things could be the dampener and we may never find it.

He was moving to examine a suspicious looking crate when a familiar hand clapped him on the back. 

"It's possible the Master took whatever was escorted here with him," said Luke in a low voice. "We may be here for nothing, about to die some horrible death."

The near misery in his voice tried to pull Tayne down with it, but he resisted. He put a hand on Wing's warm coat, finding strength in that. 

"It's still here," said Tayne. He tried to make his voice firm. "A gut feeling's telling me it is. The Master didn't take it. Aren't you supposed to be--"

Luke shrugged. "Perimetre's secured. Corrupted fled into buildings we couldn't chase them into because they kept shifting around. We ran into a wall--literally--trying to chase them down because of this damned dampener and its deities cursed illusions!" 

Luke slammed his hand into a nearby lamp post, which shook under the impact. The violence drew attentive heads from the surrounding Silverborn.

All except one, who was staring intently at a hitching post near one of the cobblestone paths.

There was nothing special about it, from what Tayne could see. Three wooden posts nailed together to form a rectangle with the ground and a trough underneath where the water would go. It wasn't hard to imagine horses tied up to it as the market went on around them, but something about it had this young Silverborn's undivided attention.

Tayne watched the Silverborn as he ran his fingertips over the worn down areas of wood where countless ropes had secured the horses to the posts. There, his hand stopped uncertainly, pausing before it backtracked across the post and examined the trough below.  

Most of the Silverborn were watching him now, but the youth was oblivious. With a hesitant movement, he reached down and pressed the hilt of his sword against the trough. 

A small glimmer of light erupted around it as the spell-breaking properties of a Silverborn's sword ripped the illusion apart. 

The facade of the hitching post shattered, leaving behind a glowing purple crystal embedded in a slender metal pole. With the post's image gone, the youth who'd broken it seemed at a loss what to do next. He looked around and backed away. 

Luke picked up the slack. With seven steps and one strike, the dampener shattered. 

The effect on the surroundings was immediate. Tayne felt the heavy aura lift around them and a ripple ran from the crystal, wiping clean the deceptive magic hiding parts of the town from unwanted eyes. More than one doorway and alley suddenly appeared while others vanished. 

"Well then," said Luke, sounding amused. He raised an eyebrow. "I suppose we're losing our touch, Tayne. New guy is better at our job than we are." 

The Silverborn youth's face turned bright red. He stared at the ground, the hilt of his sword requiring the full attention of his fingers. He nearly jumped out of his skin as Tayne approached. 

"Uh, I'm, sorry, I just--"

Tayne resisted the urge to laugh. "Relax. How'd you notice that?" 

The youth became flustered, managing to make confusing gestures between where the post had been and where Tayne himself now stood. 

"Uh, um... yea, I really didn't mean to go against you or, like, something, but it really just seemed odd that there was a hitching post there, you know? In the middle of a marketplace! These places get so crowded, any horse tied up this close to the stalls would probably break free and kick someone in the head! Usually you, I mean, in Alguarde anyway, there's a spot provided that you tie them up away from people, so I just thought--"

He can't be older than nineteen, thought Tayne as the babble continued. One of our newest recruits Luke's been working with. 

"--I used to work on a farm, before I joined the Silverborn, so I know how that kinda stuff works and it just seemed off and it was a bit darker, so I thought--"

Tayne raised a hand, cutting off the stream of confused words. 

"What's your name again?" he asked. "James? Jesse?" The boy nodded furiously at the second guess, the mop of blonde hair moving energetically. Tayne hid his smile. "Well, Jesse, that was some amazing work. We'll have to specialise your training into spellbreaking when we return to Alguarde. You appear to have a knack for it."

"Thank you sir!" Jesse saluted, causing a fit of mirth to erupt from Luke. Wrain simply stood behind him, shaking his head with mock sorrow. 

"Enough of the sir, Jesse" said Tayne. " We're all equals here." Movement in the windows of a nearby building caught his attention. "Speaking of which, you're coming with me." 

Before he moved, a slight tingle from his right bracer alerted him to one of the sub-division leaders attempting to make contact via Whisper, the telepathic link Silverborn equipment was able to share messages between them. 

Tayne touched his fingers to the bracer. Nissa's mental voice echoed through his head. 

We're at the lake, she said. It's clear, but the ether residues are beyond what we can measure and track. The only explanation I have is that the Master was definitely here, or there's something else with the same level of power as he possesses.

Tayne caught the meaning. The Master might not be the only thing they had to worry about. Anything else? 

Signs of a scuffle. We have a dead corrupted or two, killed with magic judging by the lack of physical wounds. Dried blood, gouges in the-- her voice stopped, coming back a second later. Have a few corrupted attempting an ambush. Nissa out.

She dropped the connection. 

His conversation hadn't gone unnoticed. Wrain and Luke glanced at him, and Tayne relayed what Nissa had said. 

Luke gave an exasperated sigh, twirling his sword around by the hilt. "Damn. I was kind of hoping they were planning a welcoming festival for us, not some magic-using monster."

That earned him an odd look from Jesse. Luke winked in return.

"So what's the plan?" asked Wrain, ignoring the shenanigans as per usual. 

Tayne's eyes were still drawn to the building with the internal movement. He nodded towards it. "We're going in there, Luke, you, myself and Jesse. Won't have much room to move around in there, we'll trip over ourselves if we bring more." Then, louder, he added, "Silverborn! I want these buildings searched, any documents, weapons or artifacts recovered as soon as possible!" 

Orders given, Tayne strode towards the building. Luke hung back with Jesse, their murmured voices likely discussing what they'd do once inside. Wrain ran a few steps to catch up with Tayne. 

"Why take Jesse?" asked Wrain. "Us three can handle it."

"He broke the illusion," said Tayne. "No doubt the same spell will be used, and if he's got a knack for breaking it it'll save us time. If this thing the corrupted were escorting is half as important as we think it is, it's going to be guarded with a whole lot more than just illusions."

Wrain nodded his understanding and fell silent once more. 

Tayne reached the door and pushed it open slowly, sword drawn and ready for use. 

Was he doing the right thing? If Jesse cracked under pressure, they'd have a whole other problem--but no. Luke wouldn't have brought someone who wasn't ready on patrol. Younger or not, Jesse hadn't cracked so far or they'd have heard about it. 

The building appeared to be some kind of central business building for Darni. Long hallways stretched left and right of the main foyer Tayne and the other Silverborn found themselves in, and a spiralled staircase marked the centre, leading to the floors above. 

Scuffled footsteps ran across the floor above their heads. 

Tayne nodded, silent, and waved them forward. He took the lead up the stairs, keeping his shield flat above his head as precaution to an unseen strike from the higher ground. 

The four of them made it to the second floor. Jesse hung back at the mouth of the stairway, glancing nervously behind him. Tayne knew exactly how he felt. When he'd been on his first retrieval under the title of 'Silverborn', he'd been ready to fight anything that moved. It was an incident that Luke was yet to let him live down. 

Something fell, hitting the ground with a quiet thud. 

Tayne's senses went into overdrive. 

He grabbed Jesse by the arm and pulled him back as black-clad corrupted--all humans--poured through the doorways and up the stairs, herding the Silverborn into the back of the room. Tayne kept Jesse behind Luke, Wrain and himself as they gave ground, not willing to commit to a decision before he knew what they were up against. 

Shield on one arm, sword firmly grasped in the other, Tayne pointed its tip at the mass of people waiting to attack. Luke and Wrain followed suit, and Tayne caught a glimpse of Jesse's sword behind him. 

"Don't suppose you just want to let us go?" asked Luke hopefully. "Blood's kinda hard to get out of my armour while we're travelling." 

The tallest corrupted among the group shoved his way forward. A velvet cloak hung from one of his shoulders and a dark, slender sword protruded from a hand hidden beneath it. Tayne immediately realised that the sword was covered in blood. 

Did he get a Silverborn? Tayne's mind raced. Not that I've heard about, and all the sub-leaders reported no substantial injuries--

"Silverborn," said the tall corrupted. His voice was like gravel, and Tayne tried to place where he'd heard it before. "I am the Commander, and you are interrupting. For that, you shall bow to the shadow eternal after I am through with you and the Master has been informed."

Luke clicked his tongue. "Don't think so," he said, without taking his eyes off them. "I count thirty seven, thirty eight if you include cape-boy over there. Almost ten each. I really don't like those odds." He pouted, sparing the corrupted a glance as if in afterthought. "For you lot, I mean. This is going to be really boring for us." 

The Commander's eyes blazed. He threw back his head and ripped the air with an unearthly howl, one that explained why the voice had sounded familiar. Tayne didn't get a chance to ponder on the subject more as the corrupted charged the Silverborn line with attempted war cries of their own. 

With Wrain on his left and Luke on his right, Tayne moved his sword in a graceful arcs that were little more than a flash of silver. His enemies couldn't match the speed, strength or accuracy with which he placed the blows and one by one, they fell to the knights that dodged, parried and cut at anything was wasn't silver. 

The only good thing about their position was that they couldn't be swarmed. The size of the room ensured that. Even if the corrupted managed to engage on a Silverborn two to one, he knew it'd be an easy fight. 

As half the corrupted ranks lay still on the floor, Tayne wished it was demons they were fighting. They were easier to deal with--not physically, but mentally. When it was corrupted they faced, humans that hadn't yet been moulded into a hardened demonic shell, Tayne found himself imagining people he knew instead of a stranger, screaming in pain as he cut them down. 

They were like me, before the corruption claimed them. 

But he forced himself to keep going. Killing them meant releasing their soul from their mortal bodies into the Nether realm, where hopefully the deities would save their essence from the corruption. 

At some point, Jesse joined in on Tayne's left, slicing his sword through the shoulder of a corrupted trying to edge in on Wrain. When there was only five corrupted remaining, the Commander stood exactly where he'd been previously, apparently boiling in a fit of his own rage. He squealed orders at the remaining soldiers, murder written across his face as he slashed his own sword across his forearm, letting dark blood leak down his arm and cover that already dried. 

The five remaining corrupted rushed at Tayne, ignoring the other three Silverborn. Tayne blocked and drove his sword into one of their sides as Wrain and Luke took out another two.

It was then, in that moment when Tayne was distracted, that the Commander charged in behind them, the tip of his sword aimed at Tayne's throat. 

Everything slowed down. His sword still in the side of the rebel, his shield caught on the curved edge of a corrupted's hilt, Tayne knew there was no way to avoid the incoming strike completely. The Commander's eyes were wild, consumed with the all-devouring fury of a man who no longer cared for his own life. He just wanted revenge on the leader of the silver knights who'd ruined everything for him. 

Crowded in by bodies, sword sheathed in flesh and shield useless, Tayne knew he was dead. He just hoped Wrain or Luke would be able to take over and succeed in the place where he'd failed them. 

The Commander grinned, knowing he'd already stolen a life, when Jesse leapt forward. 

He lunged in front of Tayne, shoving him back as he shoved his bloody sword through the chest of the Commander. The two remained frozen for a moment, the Commander's eyes wide in shock. 

The sword fell from his hand.

Jesse pushed the Commander's body off the sword, breathing hard. He stooped over the corpse, hands on his knees as his blade joined the Commander's on the floor. Tayne blinked rapidly, sprawled across the floor, gazing at his unexpected saviour while the rest of his body realised it wasn't dead. 

The last of the corrupted dead, Luke made a choked noise and moved over to Tayne. 

"What happened?" he asked, offering Tayne a hand. "I mean, I just saw you fall and I thought the worst had happened--you do know that it's really rather sad that the newbie had to save you, don't you, Tayne? You must really be--" 

Luke's teasing was cut short by Wrain, who'd moved over to the Commander's corpse. 

"He's a tainted," said Wrain. He flicked the cloak away from the body with the point of his sword, revealing a short, stumpy tail bound with several metal rings to hide its length. "Or something like that. I've never seen his type before, almost like a halfbreed or something."

"Can't be right," said Luke, tilting his head. "Scouts didn't report any demonic activity after the escort party."

Wrain's gruff voice sounded patient. "Apparently it is. At least now we know why the escort came here and not--"

Jesse collapsed on the floor, clasping his side. His heavy breathing had devolved into ragged gasps, his face screwed up into an expression of agony every time he drew breath. 

"Deities light," cursed Tayne, dropping down beside Jesse. 

He gently rolled the Silverborn over, looking for the injury. After prying Jesse's fingers away, he saw the place where the Commander's sword had penetrated the plate armour and sliced the flesh open beneath more than just a little. 

Tayne frowned. Silverborn plate was enchanted to deflect or block attacks. It was the reason they were so successful and lost so few. Only continued heavy assault or certain, enchanted weapons could pierce it, and the Commander's blade was nothing out of the ordinary. 

"Jesse?" said Tayne, tapping the side of Jesse's cheek in an attempt to get his attention. "Jesse, come on, talk to me! Don't fall asleep, we'll get you help."

The dazed, whispered tone of Jesse's voice made his heart sink. 

"Uh, yea...I don't suppose this is good for my first... um... retrieval mission, Sir--uh--Tayne." His voice weakened. "Uh, sorry... um... Tayne..."

His eyelids fluttered shut. Panic took Tayne. 

This was his fault. He'd brought Jesse. Wrain had questioned it, but let him, as leader, make the final call. It hadn't even been Jesse's fault he'd been injured. It'd been Taynes, and the kid had to throw himself in the firing line to save his idiot of a leader who apparently couldn't handle himself. 

Tayne pressed a cloth Luke handed him against Jesse's side, trying to stop the blood that just kept pouring out. It quickly turned the white cloth crimson, and the scene flashed through Tayne's head.

The howl. The Commander, ordering the corrupted to attack--attack him, he realised. The Commander, waiting at the back, slashing his own arm to draw blood and coat the steely surface of his blade. Wrain's confirmation of his suspicions--the Commander was some new breed of tainted. 

If the blood was on the part of the blade that'd hit Jesse, they were in trouble. Demon blood was like poison, and it was one of the very few things that could penetrate the Silverborn enchantments. Cures could be made for that, the limited magic in the Silverborn's swords had healed demon bites more than once among them. 

But it was worse than even that. This wasn't regular demon blood. It was the blood of a tainted, the kind of demon formed when a shadow Sentinel warped a soul--willing or not--into a demonic entity before the original body had been killed. 

It was ten times more potent, and the only cure that'd ever been found was a Sentinel's magic or equivalent artifact. When the only known Sentinel left was the Master himself, Jesse's chances of surviving the painful death were nearly zero. 

Wrain had come to the same conclusion. "Tayne," he said gently. "You know that won't help. We don't have anything powerful enough to save him."

Luke stood nearby, an arm covering his head. He'd been the closest to Jesse, having taken him into his training group with some other newer recruits. It was probably the only reason Jesse was trained enough to be on this mission. If not, he'd have been back, safe inside Alguarde running packages and escorting smaller groups to--

It hit Tayne like lightning. Escort. He stood up, whirling around. The escort that came to Darni, what if...

He didn't let himself finish the thought. "Wrain, Luke, pick him up!" Tayne grabbed his fallen sword, a faint hope rising, driving him on with a new vigour. 

"Tayne--" began Luke. 

Tayne waved him forward without looking. "Follow me!" 

He ran for the hallway the Commander had come from, in addition to navigating with his sword as it warmed, picking up on a magical energy. Nissa had found the ether residue outside, what if it hadn't been from the Master? What if they'd brought back an artifact and the Master had attempted to use it, but it'd been too much for even him? 

Tayne ignored the problems of that scenario and pushed forward. The other three followed behind him. Jesse's grunts of pain as he was lifted and forcefully moved. Tayne relished the sound--it meant the kid wasn't dead. Yet. 

One by one, Tayne threw open the doors and made a desperate search around their interiors. His sword was warmer than it'd been since arriving, which meant they were close, but hadn't yet found it. Old books from the Sentinel's library, various weapons, ammo and coins he found. Useful, but nothing that could save Jesse. 

He reached the final door. His sword was as warm as it'd ever been, or so he allowed himself to think. It had to be in here. 

Tayne twisted the handle and shoved, but the door refused to budge. The flicker of excitement welled up--none of the other doors had been locked--and he attempted to kick the door in. When unsuccessful, he tried slashing at it with his sword. As it made contact, the blade of his sword glowed. 

The door itself is enchanted, realised Tayne, and hoping that wasn't what the weapon was sensing. 

Another few seconds of hacking and slashing gave no result. The door remained as unmarked as ever. The spellbound metal of the Silverborn's blades wasn't enough to break the enchantment as it had been outside. With the time it'd take to whittle away at the spell, Jesse would be long dead. 

One last-ditch effort saw Tayne thrust the point of his blade between the door and its frame to try and prise it open. It didn't budge.

"This is not happening," said Tayne. He slammed a fist into the door."Not when we're so close!" 

It was then that Wrain stepped forward, passing Jesse to Luke. He drew his sword. 

Tayne snorted. "It's no use, Wrain! The damned thing is completely unmarked!"

Wrain didn't respond to Taynes criticism, instead calmly lining his sword up with the hinges of the door. He swung and knocked the first set clean off. 

"The problem with enchantments is that the slightest detail can mean the unravelling of the entire spell, no matter how strong it is. It took me two hundred years to learn that, and I suggest you make use of my wisdom," said Wrain before continuing to knock off the second set of three hinges.

Tayne tensed, cursing himself for his stupidity. Instead of working his way through the problem, his first instinct had been to try and force the issue away, wasting the limited time they had. 

They shouldn't have chosen me to lead, thought Tayne. Wrain would have been the better option. Surely, someone with three hundred years under his belt should be the leader of the Silverborn, not some twenty two year old guy who got the surprise of their life five years ago. 

The third hinge came off. Tayne held the handle of the door to ensure the slab of wood didn't fall as Wrain took the other side and together, they dragged it out into the hallway so they wouldn't crush whatever lay inside. 

Tayne stepped into the darkness of the room. 

No surprise attacks came as his eyes adjusted to the half-light, provided by a solitary, curtained window on the far wall. There were several large bookcases edging a long desk and what looked like a dining table in the centre of the room lacking chairs. 

But as the shapes began to take on detail, horror sank into Tayne. 

A girl lay unconscious and collapsed across the table, one wrist shackled to the surface. Lifeless brown hair with a dull teal streak spanned across the table, covering some of the long, seeping lines that criss-crossed her arms, her back, her neck. Some looked like they'd healed, only to be reopened shortly after. The tattered hunting tunic she wore was filthy, but despite however long she'd been here, she'd somehow survived. 

And still tried to escape, thought Tayne, noting the way her right hand was closed around the handle of a short lilac dagger, its tip in the surface of the remaining shackle. 

His own sword warmed as he approached, eyes on the blade in the girl's hand. Was that what it'd been reacting to, some enchanted dagger that wasn't going to save Jesse?

Still have to try. 

Tayne reached for the dagger. His hand brushed against the girl's skin, intending to pry her fingers off it when they tightened. 

Like wind, the girl whirled around to face him, dagger bared and pointed towards him as she warned him away from her restrained side. Tayne held up his hands, pointing his own sword away in what he hoped was a friendly gesture. Her hair shifted, falling across wild green eyes and revealing the tips of pointed ears. 

"She's an elf?" said Wrain, sounding more off guard than Tayne had ever heard him. 

That snapped her attention from Tayne as she analysed the new threats in Luke and Wrain. In the dark, her eyes flicked between them with sharp, birdlike movements. 

Tayne couldn't help the monumental disappointment crashing down inside him. This was the prisoner likely seen making an attempt at freedom earlier and, elf or not, she couldn't save Jesse from the tainted's blood. By the stars, Tayne was having a hard time believing she could help anyone in her current state. 

The elf's gaze fell on Jesse, and something changed.

Her lips parted and the dagger in her hand lowered to her waist, a second later laying on the table forgotten as she fixated on the injured Silverborn. Chains around her feet clinked when she tried to move towards him, frowned when she couldn't, and instead, stretched her free hand towards the boy who was barely breathing. 

Her palm made contact with his side, and the room exploded into a brilliant emerald light. 

The magic lit Tayne's sword with its silvery sheen. He threw up an arm to shield himself from whatever magic it was that lit the darkened corners of the torture room. But this magic wasn't evil. For the first time since he'd been a Silverborn, Tayne felt magic that wasn't malicious, wasn't corrupted, and it was beautiful. In the brief instant that it radiated throughout the room, it sang of harmony and a burning desire to be free. 

All too soon, it was gone. 

Tayne's eyes remained dazzled. The silhouette of the elf swayed. Acting more on instinct than anything substantial, Tayne reached out and caught her before she fell. He leaned her deadweight body into his chest, trying to get a grip on what'd happened. 

He took her right arm, supporting it under the elbow and was about to call for Wrain or Luke to get her other wrist out before something on the elf's bicep, under the tattered remains of her tunic shimmered up at him. 

Tayne moved the fabric aside, trying to get a clearer view of whatever it was. 

There, imprinting into her skin even as he watched was a curved, green line the shape of a sideways 3. The image of flowers bloomed around its edges nearly made Tayne drop her out of shock. 

He dragged his eyes up to meet those of his Silverborn companions, and, barely believing what he was about to say, whispered:

"She's a Sentinel."

*+*+*+*