“Well, what are we waiting for?!” shouted a soldier. “Kill him!”

“Don’t listen to her!” said Brome. “She’ll have made that offer to every other group that’s made it this far. Why did none of them make it out alive? She’s-”

“Don’t listen to him! He’s in league with the wizard!” One of the men stepped forward and drew his sword, the same man who Gareth had been eating with before they entered the temple. Brome felt like a dagger had just been thrust into his heart. He had trusted every one of these men, and it was painful to have one of them betray him.

“How dare you!!” Gareth was enraged at the offense to his captain. “Come out here and die for your insolence!”

Gareth and the soldier dueled for almost a minute as the surrounding men stood and watched, before a sweeping kick knocked Gareth off his feet. The treacherous soldier readied himself to deliver the final blow when…”

“NO!!” Brome cared for all the men under him, but Gareth he valued over all the rest combined. Gareth and Brome had known each other for as long as either could remember, and as they grew up together, friendship had matured into something much deeper and more profound. Brome drew his sword to defend his soul mate and deputy when suddenly Aren’s voice echoed through the hallway.

“Enough.” He spoke softly, but his tone was steely, and his words carried a weight that forced most of the soldiers to their knees. Even Brome was affected. “You think I used you to test the waters? Fine, then I’ll test the waters for you. I am going to head into the sanctuary. All of you walk in single file behind me, and step exactly where I step. If I die, feel free to take my head to that woman, but don’t expect her to keep her word. Now all of you get in line.”

Brome didn’t know whether Aren had used a spell or just sheer willpower, but whatever it was, it worked. Even the man who’d tried to kill Gareth got in line, and together they stepped into the sea of flames that had just killed six of their own, cloaked in Aren’s protective magic. After stepping out of the fire, they were assaulted by a rain of spikes, then wild beasts, then hideous skeletal wraiths, but somehow not one of them was harmed. The sanctuary was forty meters away, then thirty, then twenty, then ten, as they slowly but surely made their way to the center of the temple.

“It doesn’t matter what you see,” said Aren, “none of it can hurt you. It’s all illusion magic. She can attack the senses, cause you pain, even drive you mad, but she can’t physically harm you with her spells. She needs the traps for that, and I don’t think there even were any on the three hallways. She’s powerful, yes, but mental magic is my specialty. She can’t block me, and she’s probably the only wizard left, so she wanted you to stop me for her. She’ll be powerless once we get into the sanctuary. We can’t be stopped at this point, and she knows it.”

The sorceress certainly seemed desperate to Brome. The illusions she threw at them grew more and more frequent and bizarre as they drew closer to the end. She even tried cutting off their senses completely, but the men just put one foot in front of the other and kept marching.

Finally, Brome felt the man in front of him come to a halt. A strange feeling came over him, and the darkness and silence that the sorceress cast on him dissipated like smoke on the wind. As his senses came back, Brome found himself in the last place he had expected to be.