"Haa...haa...haa..."

Jaspen's concentration was broken by Mona's rapid, heavy breathing. He got up from sitting and sat as close as possible to Mona. His Aura leaked out, probing inside of Mona's body. Horror plastered on his face.

"I need to force him out of his meditation, quickly!" Jaspen's bronze red Aura seeped out quietly. He had to deal with Mona's situation, without raising suspicion among the guards just a few meters away. He began to sweat from the intense pressure he felt, as he had to control his gaseous Aura to first inter Mona's body, guide the young noble's Aura around his channels, and then bring him awake, all attempting to keep his pain at a minimum.

His Aura coalesced into droplets on Mona's skin, absorbed quickly by Mona's pores. Through his Aura, Jaspen realized that Mona's Aura had hit a massive blockage near the Source of his Aura.

"The Mortal Curse..."

Jaspen's hope of solving the situation sank with his heart. How would he break the passage of such a fatal illness. One slip, and then...Jaspen didn't want to think of the scenario.

Jaspen's voice lost its calm, gradually growing more heavy with each moment in that dark cell. His Aura entered into Mona's channels, surrounding the single tinge of Mona's Aura. Jaspen inwardly praised Mona's talent at withstanding the urge to scream in the situation.

As his and Mona's aura merged, he silently extracted the small portion out of Mona's body through his right arm. For a minute, the strand struggled to leave, but eventually gave in. The addition to Jaspen's Aura was minimal. However, seeing Mona's hurt expression fade away brought him relief.

Jaspen looked at the blood pool left around the sleeping Mona. It was still fresh on the floor, an eerie mirror of his silhouette looking back towards him.

"Noble Aurum..." said Jaspen. His voice was reduced to a whisper as he looked at Mona. His organs were shifted, and several major arteries bled. Although I stopped his injuries, it may take a while to heal him...unless...

A thought arose in Jaspen's mind. His face saw a rapid improvement, almost to the point of joy. However, that thought quickly fled as realized the extent of the chains that bound him to the other wall of the cell.

He sighed. I have to wait until Noble Aurum wakes up... How long would it take a Mortal's body to heal from those injuries, along with a Mortal Curse? Such a rare case, he couldn't come up with any ideas.

Left with no alternative, he walked as close as possible to Mona until his movements were hindered. At that point, seven feet from Mona, did he sit down and continued his meditation on the Auric technique. Silence reigned once more.

*****

The setting sun fell before Reithar's eyes. His worry only continued to increase as the Sun was replaced by the Deiforan moon. It's light filled the prison, giving rise to a few sighs among the imprisoned.

Tonight, a few would take their final breaths. Reithar envied those starving men, who no longer had to worry about the outside world.

Aeron got up, his hand latching on Reithar's shoulder. The other had turned and looked at Aeron, only to find a face no better than his.

"Reithar, it's best if you sit down and eat." Aeron lifted his hand, revealing the loaf of bread Reithar didn't eat at the yard. It was cold, and it crumbled in his hand.

"How can I eat when Mona is in the dungeons, where he isn't getting meals?" Reithar grabbed Aeron by his upper arms, his grief billowing from his voice.

"How can I...when those men get to walk freely, and Mona gets such a sentence without lifting a finger? I'll eat when Mona comes free." Reithar's voice had grown colder with each word.

Those men were clearly Taizen and his friends. They had attacked first to swipe their food. Reithar and the Varlier brothers intervened, only to see a guard openly target Mona in front of everyone. It was clear at that moment to all of the inmates that Mona was someone to avoid.

Reithar remembered how Taizen's other friends had mocking gazes at them from the morning food distribution. No one had attacked them for their food, only staring. Those stares had a hint of enjoyment at their suffering. He gnashed his teeth remembering these moments.

"Reithar, you should eat. Nothing is settled yet. We need our energy to train Aura and continue the plan." Mithal remained level headed throughout all of this, thinking everything through.

"But in those dungeons they don't even give food. And without nourishment through Aura, he will starve in four days at most. And besides..." Reithar's face became grim, "...we don't know if he was locked in a cell with someone else. The dungeons hold men the general guards couldn't handle them even with the Aura of a mid-Warrior level."

Aeron's face grew ugly at the mention of Aura levels. Mid-Warrior levels? They need guards higher than mid-Warrior levels to be restrained? Aeron couldn't even compare his strength to such a level. It was like comparing a firefly to the moon.

Mithal nodded towards Reithar, but soon spoke again.

"Remember this well, a true soldier never surrenders without seeing his leader's dead body."

Mithal rose, taking steps towards Reithar, his voice calm.

"Don't give up until you see Mona Aurum's dead body with your own eyes. Until then, keep your feelings on pause and train. That way if he is safe, you aren't left behind when we leave."

Reithar sighed again. He understood Mithal's words. Unless Mona came back without a sign of life in his body, their was no guarantee Mona died. Even if the guards came and said he died, it could be a lie crafted by the Alberdans to crush hope on both sides. Such a tactic would not be beyond them.

However, he couldn't help worrying for Mona. All his years as one of Mona's only friends had taught him how fragile his companion was. How the frail body would quake from forces that were relatively weak for a Mortal Aura practitioner. How that smile his friend carried hid the scars on that heart, buried under layers and layers of false appearances.

Reithar's heart lurched at the possibility of seeing Mona's eyes glassed over, his body limp.

Mona....please don't be dead.

*****

A guard had walked into the main administration block of the prison. After the renovations, the block of the prison that faced the Alberdos Empire was fixed and served as the base of the Alberdan forces in the surrounding area of the Grand Basin Province, the new name for the Leafwind Kingdom's land.

The guard was that fellow with the gash in his arm, the sight of it giving rise to respect from fellow guards. To make it out alive with such a mark was a symbol of willpower.

Few could survive from such a injury from a beast. The guard's tale had spread among the whole complex, and his position in everyone's hearts was revered.

This guard refused to think that way. Outwards he didn't flaunt his battle injury, and this humbleness won him many friendships among the men.

But deep inside he hated his position. Before the Warden had come, he was selected to advance through the ranks, the entire Darknorth Prison under his control.

The Warden, however, had taken the position away from him at the last moment. His rank several levels below the Warden, he remained the head of the first set of guards. His displeasure was hidden deep within his heart.

After all, those who provoked the Warden didn't see the light of day. The man's Aura training and battle record was remarkable. At his age, becoming a marshal was quite possible.

In fact, with the addition of the Grand Basin Province, more soldiers would be needed to watch for any movements from the Madrag Empire. Being already in the province meant that he would have a better chance than many other skilled soldiers back in the Alberdos Empire.

A warmonger with a shrewd mind was a dangerous combo. For this reason, the guard felt it sensible to bury his feelings. Perhaps following this man could take him to greater heights.

"I'm here." The guard appeared in front of a double door entrance. The secretary nearby took notice, activating a Creation. Upon speaking into it, the secretary placed it down again.

"You may go in. The Warden is waiting for you." Her voice was clear, like a stream in Spring.

After a moment of watching the secretary, the guard pushed open the two doors. He walked down the hallway, torches held on each side to provide lighting.

He took a deep breath and suppressed his uneasy heart. Then he knocked on the second set of double doors.

"You may come in." A voice replied from another side, steady and clear.

The guard opened the door, and half knelt before a seated figure behind a desk. His scarred arm held his helmet, his head bowed down, not daring to look into the eyes of the Warden.

The man's hair was untamed, his eyes shining with anticipation. He looked at the guard in front of him and smiled.

The kneeling guard kept his voice humble and submissive, as if the Alberdan emperor had order him to appear immediately from the front lines.

"It is an honor to serve your excellency, General Gryfor."