I'm sure it's been weeks since I was locked up in here. I don't know anymore. I've lost track of time.
I wonder what happened to Chrome — such a weird guy. I can't believe I'm thinking about someone I just met in prison, but if it keeps me from loosing my mind in here, then by all means.
I rot in this cell, each sunrise melting into the next. My body heals in fragments—if being able to stand without instantly collapsing counts as healing.
Every moment, my thoughts circle back to Eli. Did she escape? Did she decide I wasn't worth saving?
No… she isn't like that. She wouldn't.
But if she did, I wouldn't blame her. After what happened, I wouldn't want to save a stubborn jerk like me either.
Crank.
The iron door screeches open, tearing me out of thought.
| "You're one resilient creature, I'll give you that," sneers the guard who's never missed a chance to call me filth. His voice drips with disdain as he grabs me, yanking me to my feet with cruel roughness.
| "Today's your lucky day."
His breath is sour, his grip iron.
Somehow, the words feel like a death sentence. My chest tightens. For a moment, I believe this is the day I die.
He pulls me along the corridor — the same one Chrome was dragged through. The only difference is, with me, they must've thought a single guard was enough. They're not wrong though, if I was pinned against a fly right now, I don't think I'm winning that one.
Keys jingle as he unlocks the door to the main building.
And in that moment — right when dread grips me — I realize how much I want to live. My heart screams it, louder than anything.
And maybe the universe hears me.
Dragged out into the main building, the world opens up again. Even in a prison, the marvels of elven architecture glisten. Guards march in rhythm across leaf-carved tiles. Above, a glass roof bends sunlight into a kaleidoscope, transforming this place of chains into a sanctuary of light.
We reach the entrance. And there — panting, strands of her golden hair glued to her forehead by sweat, eyes a little red and watery — she stands. Eli.
Relief washes over me. I had started thinking I'd never see her again.
And beside her…
A giant of a man.
Is that—my uncle? Phil?
At first, I barely recognize him — long brown curls flowing past his shoulders, a golden monocle perched on one eye, his white beard framing a face too young for its years. He towers at six foot nine, broad-shouldered, dressed in a sharp charcoal coat over a dark turtleneck, leather gloves, and boots polished to a black shine. It's modern, regal, yet fierce. And this man is supposed to be older than my father? What in the gods' name do elves eat?
| "Look who it is," he says, voice trembling with relief, eyes gleaming like sunlight through glass.
| "My nephew. In the flesh."
The guard unlocks my cuffs, bows stiffly, gives me a 'you lucky bastard' look, and scowls before slinking away.
Uncle Phil strides forward, arms open wide. He crushes me in an embrace, lifting me as though I weigh nothing. If it were any other circumstance, it would be embarrassing. Now? I don't mind. It's been years since I last saw him.
| "Your father would've killed me if I didn't get to you in time," he laughs, voice thick with joy,
| "My father? Is he?" My voice comes out as a whisper, he looks at me
| "we will talk about that later" He says glancing at Eli, warmth softening his face.
| "And thanks to this young lady, I found you just in time."
He gently puts me down and releases me, notices the silence stretching between Eli and me, and steps back.
| "I'll give you two a moment."
Then he heads toward a sleek, midnight-black car parked at the entrance — its silver frame gleaming, its doors shaped with elegant curves like folded wings.
I move toward Eli. Slowly. Each step heavy, until our faces are inches apart — close enough to feel her breath against my lips.
| "I told you not to do it," she whispers, voice trembling, eyes brimming.
| "I know."
It's all I can manage, my gaze fixed on the floor.
| "I told you we'd die if you drew attention," she says, voice breaking.
| "I know."
Only now do I really see her. Her green hoodie is torn, dirt-streaked into a dull brown. Her hands tremble as they clutch the fabric's hem. Her body shivers as though the fight still lingers inside her. Come to think of it—how did she even find my uncle in this massive city?
I hate myself more for making her stray from her plan like this.
| "What if I couldn't have made it to your uncle in time?!" Her voice shatters, breaking into sobs.
| "Look at me, Nova! What if—"
The weight of her pain crushes me. She's already lost so much, and here I am—her burden. My chest aches, my throat burns, but I can't move. I can't even reach out to hold her. I just stand there, loathing myself.
Anyone meeting Elizabeth for the first time would think, Who does she think she is?
But when you get to know her, you realize that underneath that tough exterior, she really is a caring person. And knowing all that doesn't make this moment any easier for me.
She wipes her tears with trembling hands, turns her back to me.
| "Let's go," she murmurs, her voice hoarse, and walks toward the car. My body obeys, wordless.
The drive is suffocating. Silence thickens the air. Uncle Phil cracks jokes, stops for food, gestures at the scenery—but the weight between Eli and me won't lift.
I don't know how to fix this. She saved my life. I'd have done the same for her.
But how do I show her that without making it worse?
Finally, we stop in front of a gate. Enormous ironwork etched with a sigil: wind sweeping a lone leaf into the sky. They creak open, revealing a garden vast as a meadow, trimmed paths winding like veins toward a mansion that rises at the end of the road.
| "Welcome to my humble abode, kids," Uncle Phil announces, grinning.
The mansion looms before us—a castle reborn in modern elegance. Turrets shaped with glass and steel, ivy clinging to ancient stone, balconies flowing outward with silver railings. Light spills across its polished windows, reflecting a sky that trembles with rainclouds.
At the front doors—tall, arched, and carved with faint runes—a servant waits. A butler.
He opens the doors with graceful precision. His aura radiates calm—too calm for a man built like my uncle. His hair, long and white, is tied back into a sharp ponytail; his beard flows past his chest. His eyes… sharp, studying, almost predatory.
| "Welcome, Master Phil," the butler says, bowing.
| "Jarvis, old friend!" my uncle beams, shrugging off his coat.
Jarvis's eyes shift to me, then to Eli. His gaze is like a scalpel, dissecting.
| "So… this is the nephew you spoke of?"
| "Haha! Keen eyes, Jarvis. One hundred points for you," Phil laughs.
| "Yes, this is Nova King. And this…" he gestures proudly,
| "is Elizabeth."
Eli stiffens at the sound of her name.
Jarvis nods deeply.
| "Then welcome, both of you."
| "Jarvis, make arrangements for them," Uncle Phil says—only for Eli's voice to slice through his words.
| "I'm not staying."
Her words freeze the air.
| "What?" My voice cracks.
| "Eli—"
Phil lifts a hand, silencing me. His joy drains, replaced by stern gravity.
| "Where will you go?" he asks, his voice hard.
| "You don't need to worry about that. I have my ways," she says, turning toward the rain-streaked garden.
| "Wait, young lady." His voice deepens. "As a Windworth… the only surviving one…"
She spins back, eyes blazing.
| "How do you know that?" Her body tenses, slipping into a subtle fighting stance.
Phil doesn't flinch.
| "That's a story for another time. But right now, you must listen." His gaze cuts to me.
| "Both of you."
Rain begins to fall, a curtain of silver washing the air.
| "I know what you've endured, Elizabeth Windworth. But do not throw your life away."
| "So you're telling me to just let my family rot in hell?!" she screams, voice raw, rain hiding her tears.
| "No," Phil bellows, voice shaking the storm.
| "I'm telling you to get stronger! Do you think your father, William Windworth, would want his only surviving daughter to waste her life on blind revenge?!"
His words strike like hammers.
| "You are weak," he thunders.
| "The two of you couldn't even protect each other from mere Elveren guards — and to emphasize my point, it was the two of you. How do you think you can face the Empire alone?"
Each word pierces me. He's right.
Eli crumbles to her knees, rain drenching her hair, her sobs lost in the storm.
Phil kneels beside her, his voice softening.
| "I'm not telling you to give up. Again, I'm telling you to grow strong. Strong enough to erase them in one strike." He lifts her chin gently.
| "And I will train you. Both of you. I'll take responsibility until you're ready to stand alone."
He rises to his full height, his grin sharp as steel.
| "And if you doubt me…" his voice roars like thunder, "I am first in command of the Elite Elven Predators!"
His laughter rolls out, loud and unshakable.
I don't know who they are, but I feel the weight of those words.
Eli's eyes meet mine through the rain. For a moment, something fragile passes between us. I manage a faint smile.
| "Think it over," Phil says, his tone final.
| "Tomorrow morning, meet me here—if what you seek is more than petty revenge. If you want change."
He helps Eli to her feet.
| "Nova, follow me," Jarvis says.
I obey.
Looking back, I see Eli stepping away, the rain swallowing her.
Uncle closes the door, turns, and walks into the depths of his mansion.
To be continued...