The streets are deserted as we approach the citadel's closed door. The moon is high in the sky, and the stars are clearly visible.

The massive stone door, decorated with intricate patterns, is securely closed. Two guards stand on either side of the door, wearing full reddish metal plate armour, and both are holding halbert.

Ezlti approaches them with confidence. "Good evening, fellow frost elves," he says. "Our sensors have detected a malfunction in the magical enchantments in your prison section. We are here to look into it and, if necessary, fix it."

The guard looks over to his colleague, who responds with a shrug. "I apologize," the guard says. “The citadel is in a heightened state of security. Nobody is to enter or exit."

Eztli shakes his head. "What if the spells that bind the prisoner fail? You would not want all of your prisoners to suddenly escape, would you?"

The guard shrugs. “I am just following orders, sir.”

The other guard interrupts him. "If you prefer, I can go get our supervisor."

"No, that would not be necessary," Etzli says. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a piece of honeycomb and a snake tongue. He keeps the materials palmed and out of sight of the guard, but I can see them clearly. He crumbles the honeycomb in his hand, and the aroma of honey fills my nostrils again.

"I suggest you skip the effort and simply let us pass."

The guard shrugs again. “Very well.” He presses his hand against the door, which opens. Eztli enters, and I sheepishly follow him.

We step inside the citadel's dark central hall. I am once again confronted with the spiraling staircase and Correlon’s statue, but this time from a different angle. The statue actually looks better from this angle because his proportions appear more natural. Unlike the last time I was here, the hall is pitch dark and completely empty. Fortunately, elves like me can see perfectly in the dark.

After the door closed behind us, I turn to face Eztli. "Did you use magic to mind control that guard?"

He smiles. "I do not consider it mind control. Suggestion is quite a low-level spell. It cannot force anyone to do anything they would not do anyway. I am not mind-controlling them, but rather guiding their thoughts in a specific direction."

He begins walking, entering the gallery and following the spiral upwards.

I follow him, crossing my arms. A realization dawns upon me. "You cast that spell on me earlier, right? To make me undress in front of you.”

He nods.

I scratch my arm against the rough fabric of my dress. “Dude. That is not okay."

He shrugs. “As I said, you probably would have done that anyway. So, do not blame me; blame yourself. You have probably always had exhibitionistic tendencies."

I clench my jaw. “I do not.”

He shrugs. “Well, maybe look at it like this. You would have undressed anyway if I had left the room. I just made you do it under slightly different circumstances. No big deal.”

"You are unbelievable," I curse.

He scoffs, "Would you have preferred that I had risked the entire plan and wasted valuable time just to enable your kind's strange hangup on nudity?"

“You are a fucking psycho,” I hiss at him.

He ignores my outburst and nods at the door to my left. "That is the door to the prison."

I frown. “Is it? It looks so ordinary. Like any other door.”

“It is here, believe me. Now, put on the ring and place your hand on the door.”

I comply. Both the ring and the door begin to glow in a soft blue, and then stop. I push against the door, but it remains firmly closed.

Eztli sighs. "I should have known your boyfriend sold me garbage."

I clench my teeth. “He is not my boyfriend.”

He ignores me. "I believe we need to use Plan B.

He places his hand on the door and whispers an incantation. A deafening knock sounds, nearly shattering my eardrums. The door opens with a click.

I look around. I appear to not be the only one who heard the knock. Many doors on various levels open, and a large number of people, including guards, begin to enter the hallways.

To my surprise, on of the people walking onto the gallery is my Mom. I blink, and then notice it isn't my Mom. Her eyes are a different colour, she has a large scar on the side of her face, and she appears much older. Aside from that, she looks exactly like Mom. She is dressed in a long purple robe with a golden crown on her head.

Eztli grabs my arm and drags me inside before I can process what is going on. He closes the door and speaks an incantation in a loud voice. Behind the door, a huge white barrier appears.

"This should slow them down, at the very least," he says.

“Sure, but you locked us in. "How the hell are we going to get out of here alive?"

"Do not worry." Eztli smiles. "I have a plan."

I look around. The room I am standing in is much smaller than expected, perhaps 3 by 5 meters. Two large sapphire pillars stand next to the door, and five stone benches line the opposite wall of the room. Each of them is adorned with glowing symbols, and seats a single person.

A fire elf sits on the leftmost bench, dressed only in shorts. He is quite muscular, with dark red skin and two massive grey horns. He is staring in front of him, seemingly lost in thought.

Three of the others are humans. They are just as scantily clothed, but unlike the elf, they appear to be frozen in agony. I immediately recognise the fifth person. It is my mother, dressed in the same black hooded tunic I last saw her in. She stares into the distance, expressionless. She does not appear to have noticed me.

I run over to her. “Mom!" I grab her shoulder, and her skin is icy cold. This bench must be cursed with some terrible spell.

I grab both shoulders and drag her off the bench. She is startled, as if she has just awoken from a trance, and grabs me to keep me from falling.

She shakes her head, puzzled, and looks at me. "Sapphire." she whispers.

I hug my mother, nearly crying in her arms. “Mom, I found you. You are finally safe.”

“Darling,” Mom whispers. "I accept my fate in order to save your life. You should not have gambled your life on saving mine."

I sigh. "You can thank me later, Mom. First, we need to get out."

I look at Eztli. “What is the plan?” I ask.

Eztli ignores me again. He stands in front of the fire elf, studying him.

"You can simply remove him from the pedestal," I say. “That will wake him up.”

Eztli shakes his head. “I am not exactly here to free him. Do you know who he is?”

I shake my head. “No idea.”

Mom places her hand on my shoulder. Her voice is still soft and weak, and her eyes are filled with confusion. "He is the crown prince of the fire-elven kingdom."

“Exactly,” Eztli replies. "Yesterday, the frost and fire elves reached an agreement regarding his release. Now, if he died unexpectedly the night before, diplomatic relations between the two empires would quickly deteriorate."

He displays a large, curved sword. It is pitch black and appears to emit dense black smoke. I can feel the magical energy oozing from it, which appears to darken the surrounding room even more.

He strokes the back of the sword with his fingers, as if he is pleasuring it. “This baby is called the nightblade,” he explains. "A magical weapon that feeds on the souls of its victims. Anyone killed with this, will be unable to be ressurected by any means."

In a single movement, he chops off the fire elf's head.

My heart races, and I resist the urge to scream.

“Okay,” I say. “What is the plan? "How do we get out?"

Eztli laughs. "Oh, my intention was never to let you two leave. I needed a scapegoat."

He whispers a spell, and gradually fades. I realize he is not gone; he is just become invisible. I try to locate where he is standing, but to no avail.

Suddenly, the magical barrier that was blocking the door vanishes, and the door opens.

Two guards walk in, aiming their crossbows at us.

“Wait.” I yell. "There are three of us; one is just invisible."

The guard scoffs. “Shut up and raise your hands.”

I. 8. The execution

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