A whirlwind of emotions flew through my head like the blur of cobblestone walls that flew by infinitely fast. Fear thumped my chest rapidly as the thudding of footsteps growing louder pounded against my ears, and the rush of adrenaline was matched by the rush of air smacking me mercilessly in the face as I ran.

It wasn't a conscious effort, but rather a primal instinct that had triggered within me, allowing my legs to stride faster than I could have thought was possible, and my mind to remain somewhat calm instead of immediately combusting because of my heightened senses.

I dared to whip my head back for a split second and spotted the bobbing metal helmets of the guards and the batons they waved wildly. Needless to say, I had known that even one strike from a baton was not all pleasant, so I grabbed my legs, concentrating all the strength I could muster into them. One, two, one two. As I ran, where I was not sure but away from the guards, everything, the cobblestone walls, the wooden floorboards, the rapid footsteps that thumped in cue with my heart, had slowed down and the world seemed ethereal for a moment.

Quite like meditation, but rather being from a gradual standpoint, it had crashed over me like a colossal wave that had swallowed the entire world under the water. We turned around a corner, spotting the guard that we had been searching for and would have been overjoyed to find if not for the current circumstances. Gentle snores broke the tense atmosphere as the guard smiled giddily in his sleep, the metal helmet cast over his head like a blindfold.

The wooden door that I had last seen held the prisoners, betrayed by my actions, came into view and I screeched to a halt, the world rushing back to my head as time smacked me in the face. The burst of adrenaline had nearly worn off, and as I scrambled to call out to Matilda and Ken, the reality of the situation came crashing down as I realized if it didn't work, everything would end here.

"What?!" Matilda whipped her head around, poised to fight the onslaught of guards. "You want us to go into cells?"

"Well, the guards can't catch us there," Ken chuckled but hurriedly dashed over to help me open the door.

With a grunt, the door burst open, flooding the cells with light and the prisoners' sunken faces seemed to lift up at the sight of us. Matilda, seeing that the guards were gaining each second she hesitated, sprinted inside the room as I sealed the door shut, barricading with the help of Ken.

"May I please ask what in the world are we doing here?" Her voice didn't seem to hold a hint of spite, only desperation as the footsteps of the guards slowed ominously, growing closer and closer to the door.

Panting in between words, I spoke up. "Well, we won't fare well against a dozen or so guards, but a dozen of us will."

I nodded at the prisoners, whose once murky eyes had cleared, light radiating from them, and curled-up bodies had straightened as they stood up—some of them puffed out their chests as if it would make them seem more appealing.

"You all may not live," I said, "but would you rather be stuck in this hellhole?"

A unison of no's and whoops erupted from within the cells as newfound confidence radiated within them, and though they had accepted they were going to die, they weren't going down without a fight. The tiny lightbulb only dimly illuminated the large room, yet the faithful air that had been draped over us like a gentle blanket was almost tangible. They had put their trust in us even in such bleak times, and frankly, one does not go far without the help of others.

"Glad you came to your senses," The boy smirked, running a hand through his tousled hair to reveal his relieved eyes.

"So we're gonna free the prisoners," Ken mused, rubbing his chin. "That doesn't seem too bad, considering the situation."

A sharp knock jolted him and me as the raspy voice of a guard barked out an order, "This is Hortrum security, open up!"

We remained silent, our bodies outstretched to cover most of the door as Matilda hastily unlocked the cells, the padlocks letting out a satisfying groan as they fell to the ground. The prisoners, young and old, with scars and bruises, etched into their bodies, grinned almost sadistically as they stared hungrily at the bulging door that threatened to burst open at any moment. Their sworn enemies only awaited a mob of driven individuals who were held by no moral convictions and would scratch and bite until the last drop of blood trickled out of the former or the latter.

"I'm going to tell you this one more time," I could almost see the vein growing larger on the guard's forehead. "Open up, right now!"

Flashing a thumbs-up to Ken, we stepped aside, and the door came crashing down, nearly crushing my toe had I not leaped out of the way just in time. Under the eerie glow of the light, the prisoners' callous expressions seemed not even to show a hint of pity as they lunged at the guards, one after another like a thirsty pack of wolves lurching onto a helpless herd of sheep.

Hot, gooey blood spilled from one of the guard's chest, which upon closer inspection had been clawed at repeatedly, cutting through multiple layers of skin and exposing the meaty flesh. Another simply lay frozen, the blood drained from his face literally—a large gash on his cheek reminiscent of the prisoners' late comrade.

Yells of agony erupted from outside the doorway, batons flew through the air as the prisoners disarmed them one by one, and a lucky few, those that had been the farthest away, had scampered off, leaving their friends at the hands of what I could only describe as pure rage.

"Reinforcements, get them!" One managed to yell before being engaged by a prisoner, escaping only as another filled in his place.

Down the corridor, the infamous blue and gray morphed into a blur as they rushed down the corridor, their heavy boots thudding against the stone in perfect time. Their synchronized gaze swept over the prisoners, casting frost upon anyone who dared return the look.

And in the midst of the array, a flame flickered against the darkness. One that would have made Ken's seem puny as illuminated the area in a fiery ambiance, a striking sight if not for the unfortunate situation. Mages.

They, too, it seemed were not going down without a fight—if they had to destroy the whole prison, so be it. The prisoners looked up, blinded by the sudden influx of light, and for the first time, I could see a flash of worry on their faces, but it vanished as soon as it appeared. Jaws set, shoulders square, and poised for an attack, they were admirable but I felt pity churning in my stomach as they simply didn't know what was to come next.

Or perhaps they did, as one lunged forward with such speed that I hadn't comprehended what had happened until another followed promptly like a pack of wolves, but now against an army of shepherds here to avenge their bleating sheep—dead ones at that.

I watched closely and it seemed as if one of them, hands outstretched and teeth bared, was about to reach the guards, but with a swift motion, a white-haired mage blasted him to the side with a sliver of air like he was a little flea that clung annoyingly onto his skin.

The prisoner—I recognized him to be the man across from my cell—tumbled a few times before crumpling against the cobblestone walls with a sickening crack, his neck dislodging from its place and revealing a rapidly opening cut that spewed blood wildly.

Seeing one of their own slain effortlessly surprisingly didn't diminish their morale, but rather boosted it as they led another charge, crying out incoherent sentences that could only be deciphered as their rage finally let out.

The boy stood back to back with another, flying punches but soon found himself flying against the wall. Bloodied, he and what remained of the prisoners fought.

"C'mon, we've got to fight fire with fire."Ken stepped out from the room, his hands a furious red and Matilda had snatched a small knife from a guard's pocket, slashing at any remaining guards that dared to come near.

Flame met flame as Ken's outstretched hands trembled against the pressure from the other man's seemingly effortless wielding of his affinity, pressing his flame slowly but surely. Only a few prisoners remained of the original dozen as we slowly formed a defensive formation, Ken holding off the mages, Matilda on any of the guards, and the prisoners striking here and there, fueled by their inexhaustible rage.

Yet as I stood frozen, my mind caught up in the chaos, Ken's arms trembled ever so more, and beads of sweat were immediately evaporated by the blaze. More guards had arrived, marching ominously down the corridor, and Matilda was barely able to stab one guard before pulling the knife out to do so to the other. Another prisoner had fallen, hacked down by a guard whose face spoke of deep scratches and bruises, and the circle shrunk further.

A falter, then like dominos a row of guards stumbled out of position and the formation parted. Behind it revealed a squad of three hooded figures, water-infused hands swirling in the air for one, while the others slashed at the guards with daggers.

The three bound over to us, forging a path for themselves with steel and water. The water mage stopped, cocking his head as he studied Matilda curiously, a flash of recognition connecting both of them for a moment before Matilda snapped away abruptly.

"I thought you quit," The water mage licked his lips, shielding an air blast with a well-timed counterblow of dispersing water droplets that fizzed against the air.

"Things... have come up," She muttered and turned to face another guard, sinking her knife into his arm.

I stared at her strangely. "Matilda, who're they?"

"The aquageists," The prisoner beside me muttered, jaw slack for a moment before clenching it in newfound determination. "What're you doing here for?"

The water mage jerked his head over to the prisoner, jutting out his chin disdainfully. "There's been too many losses recently and the higher-ups are not pleased, to say the least. They've sent us to pick you idiots up, but there doesn't seem much left."

He cackled, a sadistic sound that rivaled the prisoners' battle cry, and shielded an attack from the guards this time.

"You!" The prisoner's glassy eyes stared at me woefully as if they had seen enough of the world, but there was still a hint of fire left in them. One more fight left to be had. "We have help, but we're going to blow our edge if he remains. One chance. I shall distract that flame mage so that you can get him. End him."

"You!" His glassy eyes stared at me woefully as if they had seen enough of the world, but there was still a hint of fire left in them. One more fight left to be had. "We have help, but we're going to blow our edge if he remains. One chance. I shall distract that flame mage so that you can get him. End him."

"Me?" I shook my head quickly, my eyes widening at the colossal flame that the man held. "I could never..."

The prisoner smiled grimly as he patted me on the back with his shaking hand. "Believe me—no, in yourself. I watched you earlier. Your flame, though small, holds the strength and power of that one. But it only will if you truly believe in it."

"But—"

Before I could ask him anything more, he flashed me a toothy grin, a hint of sadness in it, and lunged towards the mage, howling with sadistic laughter. "This is for my sins! I shall meet you in hell—"

He spun around mid-air, winked at me, before he was engulfed in the flame that devoured him hungrily as if he were a wax figurine. The mage had whipped around to deflect him before burning him to ashes, revealing his backside, and with a quick glance at Ken, he fired a piercing flame, a testament to all the strength he could muster.

Striking square in the man's back, he cried out in agony as he slammed into the cobblestone walls, forming a spider web of cracks, and the flame spread hungrily over himself.

But as he focused on the man, a blast of air struck him in the side and he tumbled against the wall. "Wallace... do it."

Me? Thoughts raced frantically through my mind and with the man starting to regain his composure, I shut my eyes, concentrating everything on creating the flame. The late prisoner's voice resonated within my mind, a gentle reminder that helped calm my nerves. Believe in yourself...

The familiar sensation of energy coursed through my arms and bit by bit, the intensity of the flame, though only a fraction of Ken's or the man's, grew, standing firm as a tribute to the prisoner's words. The man had begun to stand up, heaving himself with the help of the wall, but before he had time to even comprehend, I thrust forward with what strength I had remaining and fueled the flame with the vivid image of the prisoner as he faded away with a twinkle in his eye.

I had shut my eyes, partly due to the immense heat that coated the air surrounding me, but also because I couldn't bear to witness the man die, even if he deserved it. Yet I had forgotten of the screams of pure agony that erupted from the man's heart as it throbbed painfully, desperately pumping blood just for another second of life.

The cries ended after an excruciating amount of time, and I opened my eyes to the sight of a great ashen body whose chest did not move, eyes did not blink, and mouth that would never speak again. Seeing my horrific display of power, the guards and the remaining mage quickly scurried off, afraid that they would be my next victim.

I stared at my palms, still red but beginning to diminish to their original state. I had become a monster, killing those who opposed me, and striking fear into others so that they wouldn't. He had deserved it, but to suffer like that? That was the work of a true monster.