Ekhros (English version)

Chapter 2 - The Darkness of the Condemned

The Dark Island, within its dark forests and all the humidity and decay surrounding the prison walls, had become home to many of the condemned. A place where they would never again see the light of day or feel the fresh breeze. Yet, for most, it was far from home.

Ten long years he had spent confined in that gloomy prison. His black hair had grown out, and his beard was no longer small but prominent and thick, hiding his once-attractive face. There was no trace left of the man who always walked and dressed elegantly; the hard labor imposed in the prison had worn down his physical appearance, and his dirty rags made him look even more desolate.

Sentenced to life imprisonment for attempting to assassinate the king—his brother—Derkno knew that as long as he remained there, Satír would continue to rule and he would rot on the island. But to escape, he needed to be cunning. The anti-magic barrier that completely covered the island nullified the magic of the condemned sorcerers. However, Derkno was different. His powers were not like those of the sorcerers; his powers were much older than any other. To prevent him from using his powers, they placed two bracelets on both his wrists, made of a material that only nullified Derkno's powers. Additionally, there were eight royal ships around the island, each with thirty-eight guards, and inside the island, closely monitoring the prisoners, there were around a hundred guards.

He knew how he could escape, even though his last attempt had failed, resulting in increased security and reduced food rations to keep him weak. He had managed to stay strong and deceive the guards into believing he could never leave that place. This time, his plan would work.

By nightfall, he would finally escape.

"The guard shift change is at midnight, when everyone is supposed to be asleep. Only ten soldiers will remain," Isayri whispered as she approached him, a sorceress and his subordinate who had helped Derkno in his plot. In her years of freedom, she had been a very beautiful woman, but during her ten years of imprisonment, her beauty had faded. The shine of her long black hair had disappeared, now just a bunch of rebellious and neglected locks. Her honey-colored eyes no longer showed much of the life they once had. Her slender body had deteriorated, now looking more like bones than the beautiful figure she once had.

"Are you sure?" he inquired in a hoarse voice.

"I am," she said, twisting her face in a gesture of disgust, remembering how she had used one of the soldiers by giving herself to him to obtain information; information she had overheard others discussing, and the only way to know was by being taken to a private room near the guard posts.

"Perfect," he whispered to himself. He lifted a huge log with his calloused and wounded hands, carrying it to the other end where other prisoners were chopping wood. Trying not to draw attention, he approached one of them, a young man with blonde hair and a handsome face, the spitting image of Corman. So similar on the outside, but very different on the inside. His name was Vyrkon. Quickly, Derkno whispered to him, "Everything is ready for tonight."

Vyrkon curved his lips into a lazy smile and nodded slightly, while chopping the huge logs. He glanced at a girl with a curious combination of hair, silver from the roots to the neck and lilac at the tips. Her milk-white skin was barely visible under the grime and sweat from the hard labor. She was stacking the split logs with a group of female prisoners, and with Vyrkon's slight nod, she knew it was her turn to continue with the plan.

Her brown eyes sparkled with anticipated excitement.

When she was a child, her appearance made her seem pure and innocent, but behind that "innocence" was a cold-blooded killer. She was the daughter of the assassin, Ragor Zors.

He, while alive, had destroyed dozens of villages. Torture was what he loved most, hearing his victims scream in desperation was one of his twisted pastimes, and as expected, he taught the same to his daughter.

Like her father, Komram grew up enjoying torturing her victims to death. But for every wanted criminal, their time always comes. When Satír faced Ragor, he killed him. Komram was twelve years old then, and from that day, she swore she would kill Satír, even if it cost her life.

***

When midnight finally arrived, and the shift change was carried out, Komram lured one of the guards to her cell by showing him her breasts, an invitation that was not rejected. Despite her ragged clothes and grime, her appearance had not deteriorated as much as the sorceress's. On the contrary, her beauty was not much dimmed, and all the soldiers had wished to spend a few hours with her in private. But Komram made it clear that she would never be touched by anyone by tearing out the throats of two guards who tried to get smart with her.

No one dared approach her with other intentions than to whip her for refusing to work in the forest or causing disturbances.

Now that there was an opportunity like this, the guard simply didn't waste it. He placed Komram against the wall and tied her wrists with a rope above her head, then proceeded to indulge in her body. As he touched every part of her body with his dirty hands, Komram supported all her weight on her hands by grabbing the bars of the small window above her head. With a quick movement, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around the guard's neck, breaking it with a strong twist to the left before he could react or utter a word.

The guard's body fell lifeless to the dirt floor. Seconds later, his body slowly dispersed into small sparks. Without wasting more time, she used her right foot to grab the knife that had fallen to the ground along with the guard's keys and sword.

She untied her wrists and adjusted her ragged clothes. She bent down to pick up the sword and the keys to her cell. Cautiously, she moved to the next cells to free the others. When she freed Vyrkon, he gave her a reproachful look.

"Why did you take so long?" he said, passing by her as he exited the cell. "You know we don't have much time before the new guard shift returns."

"Once we destroy the power source of the anti-magic barrier, it won't be difficult to deal with them," she muttered, throwing him the cell keys. "Take care of freeing Prince Derkno and the witch. I'll handle the rest."

"Try not to kill them all; they'll serve well as cannon fodder."

With a demented smile on her beautiful face, Komram hurried to eliminate the few remaining guards. Although Vyrkon suggested not killing them all, she would try not to.

Vyrkon arrived at Derkno's cell. He was sitting on the floor with his legs drawn up and his eyes closed. When the door opened, Derkno opened his eyes and then smiled at the boy.

"It's time to begin," he said, standing up. Then an explosion shook the prison, stirring up dust. Seconds later, the doors of the sorcerers' cells exploded, freeing them. Komram had destroyed the power source of the anti-magic field, meaning nothing could stop them now. "It seems Komram has done her job. It's time for you to do yours."

Vyrkon nodded, turned, and approached the freed sorcerers.

"It's time to continue with the second part of the plan," he said, a small smile on his face.

The seven sorcerers exchanged glances, then one spoke, "We've thought it over and concluded that we don't need you to escape."

"We appreciate you getting rid of the barrier," another said.

Vyrkon watched the seven sorcerers equally, his gaze showing no annoyance at their words, rather amusement.

"In reality, no one said you would be of help to us," and with that, blood gushed uncontrollably from one of the sorcerers' throats. The others watched their companion's body turn into sparks of light before disappearing, and they didn't even have time to react to the next attacks that cost them their lives.

Vyrkon shook the blood dripping from his hands, especially from the rock he had shaped and sharpened into a knife. He looked over his right shoulder at the trail of blood left by the seven sorcerers on the ground, then glanced at Derkno and nodded.

"Let's continue with the third phase," he said without any expression on his face, continuing his way to the exit.

***

"Try not to kill every soldier who gets in our way. Every piece matters, and the most important thing is not to let the ships leave. They're our only transport off this disgusting island," Komram spoke to all the prisoners now free and ready to leave the island.

"The Garluts don't obey any Ekhronian," said one of the prisoners, a Garluts named Tror, his hoarse and unnatural voice showing threat. "We'll leave this prison, but you stay. As thanks for opening our cells, we'll let you live."

"I'm ecstatic with gratitude," Komram said, dragging the words slowly and boredly. "It was expected that the scum wouldn't keep their word. But the eternal loyalty oath you made to Prince Derkno must be fulfilled, whether you like it or not."

All the Garluts laughed at her words.

"The Garluts are stronger than all of you, including your fallen prince, and we never keep our oaths," they all laughed again.

"Of course not," she said in the same tone. "I know that very well."

She gave them a playful and excited look as they prepared to face her. Komram raised her sword and attacked the Garluts, striking the blade against the monster's hard skin. The sword couldn't pierce its tough skin, and it's known that the only weak point of a Garluts is its throat. That soft part of its body can be pierced by a sword or knife. So when Komram had the opportunity to stab her sword into the Garluts' throat, she did so with a swift and precise movement. No Garluts could see exactly when she made such a move.

Komram pulled the sword from the Garluts' throat and, with her left hand, grabbed the monster by the neck and squeezed tightly, absorbing the Garluts' mana.