Chronicles of the Regressor - Chapter 11

Chapter 11 - Infiltrating Drakon's Maw

The journey to Drakon's Maw was a brutal testament to the unforgiving nature of war. Kaelen, Seraphina, and Lyra Whisperwind moved like phantoms through the enemy-held territories, their covert unit comprising just the three of them. Every shadow held potential danger, every distant light a Vorlag patrol. Kaelen, still bearing the lingering ache of Varkos's dark magic and the fresh scar on his side, pushed himself relentlessly. The dark taint in his Aura, a constant, cold presence, was both a burden and a strange, new ally, allowing him to perceive subtle shifts in the ambient mana, almost like an extension of Lyra Whisperwind's elven senses.

They traveled mostly by night, navigating treacherous mountain passes and dense, unfamiliar forests. Lyra Whisperwind, with her unparalleled tracking skills and innate connection to the natural world, was their silent guide, her elven eyes picking out paths invisible to human sight. Seraphina, though grumbling about the lack of comfortable beds and hot meals, kept their spirits up with her sharp wit and her uncanny ability to conjure small, silent illusions for cover or distraction when needed.

"Are you sure this is the fastest way, Lyra?" Seraphina whispered one night, shivering despite her enchanted cloak. They were scrambling up a steep, rocky incline, the wind biting. "My feet are starting to feel like ice blocks."

"The main roads are heavily patrolled," Lyra Whisperwind replied, her voice calm, her movements effortless. "This path is less traveled, thus less guarded. Speed is not our only concern; stealth is paramount."

Kaelen, leading the climb, felt the familiar burn in his healing ribs, but he ignored it. His focus was entirely on Drakon's Maw. "Every hour we save is an hour Borin isn't suffering. And an hour less for Varkos to consolidate his gains."

As they drew closer to the fortress, the landscape grew harsher, dominated by jagged peaks and narrow, winding ravines. Drakon's Maw was a formidable sight, even from a distance. Built into the side of a sheer cliff face, it was a colossal structure of black, volcanic rock, its walls rising hundreds of feet, studded with watchtowers and bristling with ballistas. Its gates, massive slabs of reinforced iron, looked utterly impregnable. A dark, oppressive Aura emanated from it, a constant hum of malevolence that assaulted Kaelen's scarred senses.

"By the Light," Seraphina breathed, peering through her spyglass from a hidden vantage point. "It's even worse than the schematics. How are we supposed to get in there? It's a fortress, not a dungeon!"

"Indeed," Lyra Whisperwind murmured, her eyes narrowed, scanning the walls. "The wards are ancient and powerful. And the patrols are disciplined. This is no ordinary stronghold."

Kaelen studied the fortress through his own spyglass, comparing it to the fragmented intelligence he had from his past life. He remembered a hidden weakness, a forgotten tunnel, but the details were hazy, obscured by the trauma of his previous defeat. He needed more information.

"We need to get closer," Kaelen stated, his voice grim. "Find a blind spot. A weak point in their patrols. Lyra Whisperwind, can you find a path to the outer perimeter that avoids their magical detection?"

Lyra Whisperwind nodded. "It will be difficult. Their detection spells are layered. But there is a narrow fissure in the cliff face to the west. It is often overlooked due to the unstable rock. We might be able to approach from there, under the cover of the wind."

They spent the next day meticulously scouting the fortress's perimeter, using every trick of stealth and concealment Kaelen had learned. The dark taint in his Aura proved unexpectedly useful; it seemed to resonate with the fortress's oppressive magic, allowing him to feel the subtle fluctuations in its wards, to anticipate where they would be strongest or weakest.

As dusk settled, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and grey, they found their entry point: a narrow, almost invisible crack in the cliff face, just as Lyra Whisperwind had predicted. It was barely wide enough for one person at a time, leading into a dark, unstable tunnel.

"This is it," Kaelen whispered, his voice echoing faintly in the confined space. "Once we're in, there's no turning back. Seraphina, prepare a silence spell for our entry. Lyra Whisperwind, lead the way. I'll cover the rear."

The infiltration was slow, agonizingly tense. The tunnel was cold, damp, and filled with the scent of ancient earth. Loose rocks shifted beneath their feet, threatening to betray their presence. Seraphina maintained a constant, low-level silence spell around them, muffling their footsteps and whispers. Lyra Whisperwind, her elven senses guiding her, navigated the treacherous path with uncanny ease, her hand occasionally brushing a hidden pressure plate or a tripwire, disarming them before they could activate.

"Almost there," Lyra Whisperwind whispered, her voice barely audible. "I feel a faint draft. And… the scent of stale air. We are close to an internal passage."

They emerged into a dark, dusty storeroom, filled with crates and barrels. The air was stale, but the sounds of the fortress, muffled but clear, now reached them: distant shouts, the clang of armor, the murmur of voices. They were inside.

"Alright," Kaelen whispered, his voice firm. "Phase two. We need to locate Borin. Lyra Whisperwind, can you pinpoint his Aura signature now that we're inside the walls?"

Lyra Whisperwind closed her eyes, concentrating. Her brow furrowed. "It's… difficult. The fortress is saturated with Vorlag Aura. It's like trying to find a single drop of water in a raging river. But… yes. Faintly. He's deep within. Below ground, I think. In the dungeons."

"Of course," Kaelen muttered, a grim realization. "They'd keep a valuable prisoner in the deepest cells. Sera, we need a distraction. Something big. Something that draws attention away from the dungeons, but doesn't alert Varkos directly."

Seraphina grinned, a flash of her old fire returning. "Oh, I have just the thing. The armory. It's usually well-stocked with volatile reagents. A little 'accident' with a few fire spells… could be quite spectacular."

"Good," Kaelen nodded. "Borin's cell will be heavily guarded. We need to thin their numbers. Lyra Whisperwind, you'll go with Sera. Create the diversion, then return to a designated rendezvous point near the dungeon entrance. I'll go ahead, scout the dungeon, and prepare for entry. We meet at the dungeon entrance in thirty minutes. Any longer, and I proceed alone."

"Alone?" Seraphina protested. "Kaelen, no! That's too dangerous!"

"We can't risk all of us being caught in the diversion," Kaelen countered, his voice firm. "And I need to assess the dungeon layout. I have a rough idea from my memories, but fortresses change. This is the most efficient way. Trust me."

Lyra Whisperwind placed a hand on Seraphina's arm. "He is right, Sera. We must trust his judgment. We will meet you, Kaelen."

With a nod, Kaelen melted into the shadows of the storeroom, moving with an almost unnatural silence. He navigated the fortress's winding corridors, avoiding patrols with practiced ease, his Aura, with its dark resonance, allowing him to subtly dampen his footsteps, to blend with the shadows. He felt the cold hum of Varkos's dark magic growing stronger the deeper he went, a chilling presence that prickled his scar.

He found the dungeon entrance, a heavy, iron-bound door guarded by two hulking Vorlag brutes. Kaelen slipped past them, a phantom in the darkness, and descended into the cold, damp depths. The dungeons were a labyrinth of stone cells and narrow passages, reeking of despair and stale blood. He moved cautiously, his senses straining, searching for Borin's faint Aura signature.

Suddenly, a metallic clang echoed from ahead. Kaelen flattened himself against a wall, drawing his Aura-infused dagger. Two Vorlag guards, their voices low, were dragging a struggling figure down the corridor.

"Move it, prisoner!" one snarled. "General Varkos wants you in the interrogation chamber! He thinks you know more about that 'Silent Blades' leader!"

Kaelen's blood ran cold. Borin. And they were taking him to Varkos. This was worse than he anticipated. Varkos wasn't just parading him; he was trying to break him, to extract information about Kaelen.

He followed them, a silent shadow, his heart pounding. They led Borin to a heavily reinforced door, guarded by four elite Vorlag knights. Kaelen knew he couldn't engage them all. Not yet. Not alone.

Just then, a distant explosion rocked the fortress, followed by shouts and the frantic ringing of alarm bells. Seraphina's diversion. Perfect.

"What was that?!" one of the knights guarding the door yelled, his attention momentarily diverted.

"Probably those blasted Academy brats again!" another growled. "Stay alert! Don't let them get past!"

Kaelen seized the opportunity. He moved like lightning, his Aura-infused dagger a blur. He slammed into the first knight, not to kill, but to stun, to disorient. The knight crumpled, his armor clanging loudly. The other three turned, startled.

"Intruder!" one roared.

Kaelen didn't give them time to react. He moved with brutal efficiency, a whirlwind of precise strikes, targeting pressure points, joints, and weak spots in their armor. He felt the dark taint in his Aura surge, amplifying his speed, making his movements almost supernatural. He fought with a cold, desperate fury, a silent promise to Borin.

He neutralized two more knights, leaving them stunned and gasping on the ground. But the fourth, a seasoned veteran, was too quick. He parried Kaelen's strike, then slammed the pommel of his sword into Kaelen's already injured side.

A fresh wave of searing pain exploded through Kaelen. He gasped, stumbling back, his Aura flickering wildly. The blow reopened his wound, and he felt a warm gush of blood. His vision swam.

"You're good, boy," the knight growled, advancing, his sword raised. "But not good enough!"

Kaelen gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. He couldn't fail. Not now. He heard Borin's muffled shouts from beyond the door.

Suddenly, a volley of arrows hissed past Kaelen, striking the knight's sword arm and leg. The knight roared in pain, dropping his weapon. Lyra Whisperwind had arrived, her bow drawn, her eyes narrowed. Seraphina was right behind her, mana crackling around her hands.

"Kaelen! You idiot! You went in alone!" Seraphina yelled, but her voice was filled with relief. She immediately unleashed a focused mana bolt, stunning the injured knight.

"Borin's inside," Kaelen gasped, clutching his side, blood seeping through his bandages. "They were taking him to Varkos. Interrogation."

"Damn it," Seraphina cursed. "Lyra, cover us! I'll blast the door!"

Lyra Whisperwind immediately took up a defensive position, her arrows ready. Seraphina channeled her mana, a powerful, explosive spell forming in her hands. The iron door shuddered, then exploded inward with a deafening roar, sending splinters of wood and metal flying.

Beyond the shattered door, a short corridor led to another, slightly smaller room. And in that room, illuminated by a single, flickering torch, was Borin, chained to a chair, his face bruised and swollen, but his eyes still defiant. And standing over him, a cruel smile on his lips, was a figure Kaelen knew all too well.

General Varkos.

"Well, well, well," Varkos sneered, his dark Aura flaring, his gaze fixed on Kaelen. "The little phantom returns. And you brought friends. How… predictable." He had clearly anticipated their arrival, or at least Kaelen's.

Kaelen's heart pounded, not just from the pain, but from the raw, consuming hatred that flared within him. Varkos. The man who had destroyed his family, who had marked him, who now held his friend captive.

"Let him go, Varkos," Kaelen growled, his voice low and dangerous, his Aura, with its dark taint, surging, making the air around him crackle.

Varkos chuckled, a chilling sound. "And why should I, boy? He's a valuable source of information. And a perfect bait. I knew you would come. Your sentimental weakness is your undoing, Valerius." He moved to Borin, his dark blade resting lightly on Borin's throat. "One step closer, and his life ends."

Seraphina raised her hands, mana crackling, but hesitated, seeing the blade at Borin's throat. Lyra Whisperwind's bow was drawn, an arrow nocked, but her aim was uncertain with Borin so close.

Kaelen felt a cold dread. He had walked into another trap. Varkos had anticipated his every move. His foresight, his knowledge, had led them directly into the enemy's hands. He was hurt, his team was vulnerable, and Borin's life hung by a thread. This was the true cost of trying to change destiny. The war was far from over, and Kaelen was learning, in the most painful way possible, that even with knowledge of the future, victory was never guaranteed.