Torrin's legs coiled, tensed, prepared to shoot forward. The look on Yawnel's face gave him pause, though. Gone was the usual arrogant smirk. It had been replaced with a malicious grin that radiated absolute confidence. Torrin's mind tried to wrap itself around that expression as he watched the incoming projectiles slowly wade through the air with his enhanced perception.

'Why does he look so confident? I've beaten this elf multiple times and never has he looked at me like that before...' Torrin thought, 'Was he able to receive the wind temple blessing? Could that be why he looks so confident?'

Instead of directly attacking Yawnel as he'd planned, Torrin sank mana into the earth and it rose. A barrier appeared before him, twice his own size. The projectiles landed and Torrin dodged around his barrier to close the distance between him and the elves. The distance was disappearing quickly.

The look hadn't disappeared from his opponent's face, even after Torrin had blocked their first volley, and he couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive. Yawnel's mouth moved, but Torrin missed the words. He continued his way up the mountain, dodging what he could and using the mountain below them as a shield when necessary.

The look of triumph on Yawnel's face spoke volumes and Torrin paused once more. He let his perception return to normal after raising a new barrier of stone.

"What is this really about?" he questioned, his voice barely carrying over the sound of spells slamming into his barrier.

"Didn't I say I was done talking to you, trash?" The elf's voice seemed to take on a playful tone, "I guess it's fair if I tell you one last thing. If you come any closer, your friends die." Torrin froze. Besides reinforcing his barrier with more mana and earth, he didn't move. The sound of spells impacting his barrier couldn't drown out the malicious laugh that tore from Yawnel's throat.

Torrin was unsure who Yawnel considered his friends to be, but he didn't want to risk anyone's lives for no reason. He spun a thread of mana to his mind once more as he tried thinking of possible resolutions to his situation. How could he threaten his friends if he were dead?

'Dawn must have left for the fire temple and taken some of the elves with her. At least the two others who have an affinity for it, so they should be safe. Tillien would have been at the wind temple, so he is most likely who Yawnel is talking about.' Torrin tried to piece together what information he could based on the simple sentence, 'But he said friends, so he must also have others. Most likely the rest of Tillien's group.'

Torrin was torn with indecision and the attacks on his barrier were becoming more fierce. Each attack chipped away at both his barrier and his mana. Torrin wouldn't be able to keep up this defense for long, so he decided to try and goad Yawnel into giving more information.

"Why do you think I care about any of the elves here? You've said yourself, multiple times, that no one here likes me." Torrin said as he let the world around him resume its normal speed.

A guffaw was the only reply. Torrin gritted his teeth. As a volley of spells landed on his barrier, he let it crumble. He was glad to see that the elves attacking him feared him enough to keep their distance and were dumb enough not to spread out around him. Their grouping made his next move easier. Taking control of the various stones around him with a wriggling mass of mana threads, he returned a volley of his own.

A few grunts and screams of pain could be heard as the myriad stones landed on the elves at great speed. It was followed by the sound of elves falling to the ground. There was no finesse to the attack, not even a spell. He had only made sure to thrown the rocks at knee height to prevent too many serious injuries. But the effect was perfect.

His attack had clipped at least ten of the elves present, avoiding Yawnel. Anything done to that elf would be personally handled by Torrin. The damage the attack caused drew most of the unharmed elve's attention away from Torrin and towards their fallen allies. Elves who'd been struck lay on the ground, holding parts of their legs that had been hit; spitting curses and cries of pain. Torrin took that moment to advance farther.

Yawnel's eyes never left Torrin and when he saw him advancing once more, he held up his hand. A look of malicious joy could be seen as the object the elf held was revealed. It looked to be nothing more than an amulet. Torrin narrowed his eyes as he came to a halt.

"Since you don't listen, human...I guess a demonstration will be necessary for you to know that I am not fucking around with you!" As the words tumbled from the elf's lips, his voice continually grew more agitated and venomous. Torrin was only fifty feet away now, and could see a vein throbbing on Yawnel's forehead.

"Wait!" Torrin held up his hand. To his great surprise, Yawnel paused in his motion to place his thumb on the amulet that he held a hands length from his mouth. Torrin's best guess was that it was a communication amulet. But who was it connected to?

'So he's holding them somewhere, then?' Torrin mused.

"You still seem to think that I take orders from you." Yawnel replied, his voice flat. The simple reply caused a chill to go down Torrin's spine. Yawnel pressed down his thumb and whispered something to the artifact.

"No!" Torrin shouted, but the only effect it caused was the reemergence of Yawnel's malicious grin.

"One moment." Yawnel held up one finger to Torrin. The look on the elf's face made Torrin disgusted, curious, and angry all at once.

Nothing happened and Torrin looked all around for any sign of change. Moments later, a scream could be heard from near the mountain top. It grew closer, and meaty thuds and cracking sounds echoed across the near silent mountainside as the screaming stopped.

Torrin watched as a body fell. His insides twisted from the noise and awful death the elf experienced because of his actions. The corpse's momentum bled off as it hit more and more stones and boulders, and it finally came to a stop not a hundred feet away from the group.

Yawnel waved his hand to one of his subordinates who retrieved the body. With another motion, the follower was directed to take the body to Torrin. Torrin fell to his knees at the sight. The corpse was mangled almost beyond recognition. Even through the gruesome blood, twisted bones, and rended flesh, a decorative clasp around its forearm told Torrin exactly who it was. The elf had been one of Tillien's teammates, Orel. Torrin felt rage, confusion, and disbelief all warring for a place in Torrin's heart.

"Why..." Torrin whispered in disbelief, his gaze slowly rising to Yawnel.

"Because you chose to disobey your better, human."

The words made the cold embers of rage inside Torrin ignite. He could feel every muscle and tendon inside his body going taut. His breaths came quick, his chest heaving like a bellows. A look of fear crossed Yawnel's face for only a moment, before being masked by the same perverse, arrogant expression from before. The elf waved the amulet before himself as if it were some sort of warding charm.

"Do we need another?" Yawnel asked, his grin nearly reaching his ears as he saw Torrin didn't move.

Torrin's gaze landed on Orel's dead body once more, noticing for the first time the metal collar around his mangled, oddly angled throat. The collar was nearly the same one he'd been subjected to during his imprisonment in Bolin. Various ideas and thoughts whirled together in his mind as he struggled with the swirling hatred in his gut, keeping it from his face with a great force of willpower.

Torrin fixed a defeated expression on his face as his gaze turned toward Yawnel, "What do you want from me, Yawnel?"

"Your death." The short reply was quick.

"What will that accomplish?" Torrin asked, allowing a bit of desperation to seep into his tone, hoping to get more information on what was going on here.

"You sure do ask a lot of questions for a dead man," Yawnel tutted, then sighed, "I guess it wouldn't hurt for you to take the information with you to the grave. It would only be fair for someone to know the crime they've been sentenced for, after all. There are big things happening in this world, and you have been deemed to be in the way."

The words were like a shock to Torrin's system, 'Is this idiot really a part of all this? Was he somehow recruited as cannon fodder in Virtus' plans? Does that mean Dawn...' He shook away his thoughts.

"What things? If you're going to kill me, at least let me know why. It would only be fair." Torrin tried.

A look of contemplation took over Yawnel's features, causing a spark of hope to ignite within Torrin. It mixed with the rage inside him, causing his hatred towards the elf before him to deepen.

Yawnel shook his head, "I've said enough. I wouldn't dare speak on sensitive plans. Not in front of my people, and definitely not with a filthy human like you. All you need to know is that Dawn told us to keep you distracted."

"So you want to go against what she's told you and kill me instead? My biggest regret would be not being alive to see your mangled corpse once she's through with it." Torrin shook his head, as if at a great loss. Yawnel paused, as if Torrin's words had actually sunk into the pile of mush he called a brain.

The elves surrounding Yawnel looked nervous, shooting glances to their leader. Yawnel's head turned to his group of followers, his face slightly paler than usual. The elven leader's rictus grin showed he was just as nervous as the rest of his group. The elf's features smoothed into an actual grin as he turned his attention back to Torrin.

"You know what? You're right. Though I am loathe to admit it, I shouldn't disobey her orders." Yawnel spoke in a voice that didn't help ease Torrin's tension, "I guess I'll work out my frustration on the others."

Torrin's eyes widened as Yawnel motioned to the two boulder-makers from earlier and they began to move. He stood to his feet, but a sneer from Yawnel had him on his knees once more. He didn't want another body falling from the mountain from his own impatience.

The chosen elves walked a short ways off and planted their hands on either side of what appeared to be a small hole in the ground. Torrin couldn't get a good look at it from his vantage point. The earth rose to reveal a square block. They waved their hands and the stones fell apart, revealing a beaten and bloody Tillien.

The elf's alabaster skin was now a smattering of black, purple, green, and blue. His sky blue eyes were clouded over, staring at something in the distance only he could see or nothing at all. Dried blood coated the corners of his mouth and trailed from his nose. His clothing was ripped and had turned a dark shade of brown, rather than its usual elegant blue and white, from the blood that stained it. Torrin took in a sharp breath at the sight.

"You see, human? I already started on one of them. It shouldn't take long to finish the job, I wouldn't think." Yawnel paced slowly toward Torrin's imprisoned friend.

"If you lay another finger on him, Yawnel," Torrin's voice grew into something closer to a growl, "The rest of them be damned, I will kill every last one of you inside this pocket dimension."

Yawnel scoffed at the boast, but when he turned and looked at Torrin's face, he must have seen something terrifying. The elf paused with wide eyes. Torrin stared into those eyes for long moments, before Yawnel shrugged, fixed his expression into something like a sneer, and whispered a few commands to his subordinates beside him.

"Fine... Fine...But don't think of killing me now, or any time, really," Yawnel returned his attention to Torrin, stretching his lips to show all his teeth, "For if I die, the rest of the elves will follow me to my grave immediately."

Torrin pretended to deflate, allowing his shoulders to sag further and a saddened look to cross his features. Torrin tried to understand just how the other elves would die if Yawnel did, but couldn't come up with anything just yet. Yawnel took delight at the sight, even going so far as to clap his hands in joy. Torrin could barely hold back his own delight as two elves shackled his arms behind him and the third clasped a collar in place around his throat.

"Take his storage pouch as well." Yawnel called out, said pouch being promptly stripped from Torrin's neck. His ring went unnoticed.

The collar suppressed his core to some extent, but the mana he kept cycling through his pathways barely slowed, and the current of Saen that followed it seemed unhindered. It took some extent of his concentration to keep the energy cycling, but it was far less than the last time he was collared.

"Take them both to the others." Yawnel commanded his group. The elves broke into motion, those that had been injured by Torrin's counter-attack hobbling to do Yawnel's bidding with grunts of pain and murmured curses.

Torrin was led up the mountain along with Tillien. Torrin barely recognized his friend. The usual beaming smile was gone, and no jokes slipped from his lips. Tillien looked as if he had been hollowed out, his gaze distant and eyes glossy. Torrin berated himself internally for not heading straight to the wind temple.

'I'll make Yawnel pay for laying a hand on you...' Torrin thought, his concentration now split between suppressing his rage and keeping his mana flowing while they walked, 'Why is Dawn doing this? How is she a part of all of this? I knew something about her was off, but I would have never expected this to happen...' Torrin's thoughts gave him no comfort as he trudged ahead, his arms shackled behind him and his wrists and neck irritated by the constant chafing of the metal.

The slow trek up the mountain lasted most of the day. As the sun kissed the horizon, they arrived at a wide set of steps. The swirling clouds that had covered the temple were less obstructive this high up. He could see sand and stones being blown around on the steps before him.

A jerk of his chains caused his attention to turn to his left. There he saw an empty doorway. Curiously, he looked closer and could see its rough edges from being carved from the mountain itself. His curiosity was both satiated and dashed as he was drawn toward it by his chains, conflicted as to whether or not he wanted to know what lay within.

Inside the doorway was a large cavern that held various furniture made from stone. Stone tables and chairs with cushions were against one wall. In the center of the room were a few rough couches covered with cloth, cushions, and pillows.

An elf--who Torrin assumed was the one that dropped Orel from the mountain--sat on one of the couches, reading a book as if nothing had happened. The room seemed well lived-in, making Torrin think they must have been staying here for a while. The space would have been impressive, had it not been made by insane, blood-thirsty elves.

On the far side of the room was their destination. Yawnel and four guards led Torrin and his companion towards another doorway. They were taken down several steps in a rough hewn tunnel, passing doorways that led to small rooms containing a few beds each. At the bottom of the flight of stairs, the tunnel leveled off and they were led another hundred feet to a stone door.

Lifting a bar of stone from its resting place, the elf in front opened the door. The putrid smell inside hit Torrin's nose, almost causing him to retch. One of the guards with them dry heaved.

"Idiot!" Yawnel spat, slapping the sickly-looking guard in the face with the back of his hand and commanding him to return upstairs.

Inside the makeshift prison were thirteen elves in similar chains and collars to Torrin and Tillien. Each one Torrin's gaze fell on looked worse than the next. They all stared with dead-eyed expressions, not even seeming to notice the people entering the room.

"Chain Tillien and leave us. I have a few things to...discuss...with our newest prisoner." Yawnel almost purred.

Tillien was promptly dragged to the wall with the others. He was forced to the ground and his arms pinned behind him at an awkward angle that looked terribly uncomfortable. His shackled wrists were attached to a latch on the wall that locked him in place. Torrin wanted to shout and rage and kill every last one of Yawnel's people at the sight, but it wasn't time just yet. He had to figure out how Yawnel would kill them all if he died.

Yawnel's followers left the room and Torrin was left alone with the prisoners and Yawnel himself. Torrin didn't understand what was wrong with the prisoners, as they still seemed to have no reaction to anything going on around them.

"What have you done to them?" Torrin whispered, trying to keep the rage that was boiling in his veins from showing in his voice. He resisted the urge to step forward and tear Yawnel's throat out with his bare teeth.

Yawnel laughed, "Just given them a small taste of what they deserve." As the elf met Torrin's piercing gaze, he cleared his throat, "We gave them a sedative so they would shut up. I hate that it dulls their agony somewhat, but at least they aren't shouting all the time anymore."

'Finally a straight answer,' Torrin thought, shaking his head at the sight of the elves. Yawnel's words paired with the disgusting look of enjoyment as he spoke made Torrin sick. Added fuel to the smoldering rage within him.

"Now, follow me. We have a fun time ahead of us, human." The elf said with malice.

Torrin resisted the urge to roll his eyes and followed his captor. On the far side of the room was another door. Yawnel moved the stone bar lock and opened it. Inside was an empty, oval room. The only thing adorning it was a latch on the far side of the wall and dark brown stains on the floor.

Yawnel latched Torrin's arms behind him, as he'd seen the others do to Tillien. His wrists were held level with the center of his back, causing his arms and shoulders to feel strained almost instantly. A light touch of Saen allowed the pain to ease. Yawnel stood in the center of the room staring at Torrin with a discerning gaze, but not saying a word. The elf looked like he was studying the most exquisite art piece, trying to figure out just how the artist made it.

"Why does Dawn want you torturing the other elves?" Torrin asked as the silence grew uncomfortably long.

"Hm?" Yawnel seemed to remember where he was and who he held prisoner, his eyes sharpening into focus onto Torrin's, "Dawn didn't tell me to torture anyone. Her only command was to keep you distracted."

Torrin felt confused, "Then why do all this?"

Yawnel scoffed, "You speak as if you don't know yourself. Do you think there was any way for us to fight you? Much less keep you distracted?"

Torrin thought Yawnel made a fair point, but still didn't understand why he had gone to such lengths.

"But these are your people, Yawnel, why would you imprison them and torture them?"

"These wretches are not my people," he barked, smirking, "My people are those who chose to follow me. My people are the ones you saw outside, the ones you hurt. These prisoners chose the wrong side. I gave all of them a choice, to follow me or to die. They chose death. And I intend to make it a slow one."

Torrin stared in shock at Yawnel, 'Just because they didn't want to follow this asshole, he chose to imprison and torture them?!'

Torrin knew his words would have no effect on the elf, so he held them back. His mind thought of what he could possibly say to get more information.

"Why would they die if you did?" Torrin asked, not expecting to get an answer.

To his surprise, a genuine smile crossed Yawnel's face, "You don't know who I am, do you?"

Torrin just stared at the self-important elf blankly as he had no clue who this idiot was or why that would be important here.

Yawnel sighed, shaking his head sadly, "Such idiocy. My family is in charge of keeping the peace across the elven settlements." Torrin began to get an idea of where this was going.

"Those collars," Yawnel said, pointing to the one around Torrin's neck, "Are not simple suppression collars. No, my family quickly learned that extra measures needed to be taken to insure compliance. So, they invented these collars. The base design is the same as normal ones, but it has a few truly exquisite features that the basic ones lack."

"What's so special about them?" Torrin asked the expected question to move the story along, unimpressed by the elf's bragging.

Yawnel smiled in glee, "They are keyed with my blood. If I die without removing the collars myself," the elf raised his hands to his head before expanding them outward, "Boom."

Torrin's face fell at the words. He knew that if Yawnel was telling the truth and his death triggered an explosion, all the elves would indeed be killed. No matter how much Saen infused his body, he himself would more than likely die to such a thing, as well. His escape just got more complicated.

Yawnel's face twisted in some perversion of a smile that creeped Torrin out, "Now, let's get down to business." The elf unsheathed his sword and approached Torrin with slow, measured steps as if he were balancing on the edge of a cliff.