A NEGOTIATION WITH TEETH
The situation in Aelin was a state of controlled panic.
Galena was a woman forged in the cold, strategic fires of Russian intelligence, moved with a purpose that belied the terror clawing at her heart. She couldn't afford to be a grieving wife; she had to be the Prime Minister.
Using a secure, Aelinian gateway, she bypassed all normal channels and arrived without warning in the Oval Office.
President Ronald Reagan looked up from his desk, his genial expression replaced by sharp surprise. Vice President George H.W. Bush, who had been in a meeting with him, stood instantly, his face a mask of concern.
"Prime Minister Slotskya of Aelin," Reagan began, his voice calm but edged with concern. "This is an unexpected visit."
"Mr. President, Mr. Vice President," Galena said, her voice steady, her accent a crisp, formal cadence. "I am here because our King, Jason Elias, and his Brotherhood, have been abducted and held on American soil. They are your allies, Mr. President...and until now we have never had negative dealings with The United States of America. Citizens of your country have taken and are inflicting great harm to them."
She laid out the situation with the cold, hard precision of a field agent reporting a mission failure. She explained the ransom, the demand to drop the Veil, and the sheer impossibility of Aelin complying.
"To do so would be to sign a death warrant for every man, woman, and child in my nation," she stated, her gaze unwavering.
Then, the mask cracked, just for a second.
"They are torturing them, Mr. President," she told him, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly, "And…and my husband is one of them. My husband is the Conjurer of The Brotherhood of Aelin, Mr. President. Nathaneal Dallenger. We have been married for just four months, sir."
The room went silent. The human cost of the political crisis was suddenly, starkly real. Reagan's expression softened. He and the vice president looked at each other, each man clearly moved by her words.
"My dear," he said, his voice filled with genuine sympathy. "We will do everything in our power. You will have the full resources of the CIA and the FBI. Consider it done."
"We will also offer assistance from several military special operations teams," Bush added, his voice firm. "Delta Force, SEAL Team Six. They are the best in the world, Prime Minister. You have the full cooperation of the United States Military at your disposal."
Galena accepted with a grateful nod, the Prime Minister's mask sliding back into place.
"I thank you, gentlemen," she said quietly, "Aelin is grateful to you both for your kindness and attention to this matter."
She rose to leave, but President Reagan stood up from the desk and walked around it to take her hands in his own, providing a comforting squeeze as he said, "I cannot imagine the fear you are holding, my dear. If my Nancy...my children…were in such a circumstance, I am not as sure I would be able to handle it with the same grace as you. You have the prayers of this office and administration, Madam Prime Minister."
"We've had the pleasure of meeting your King and Brotherhood, ma'am," Vice President Bush added, "They are fine men, and your husband…is wise and kind. We will do everything possible to return him to you. To return all of them."
"Thank you, Mr. Vice President," Galena replied, "Aelin is grateful to the United States of America for the caring and assistance. We shall speak again soon, gentlemen."
When she left, the two men looked at each other, and the phone calls promptly began.
The band was trapped in a nightmare, and the terror was palpable.
The next day, they came for Nathan. Erik tensed, ready to offer himself in his brother's place, but they just grabbed Nathan, untied him, and dragged him upstairs without any word. This was different, and so much more frightening than knowing what was planned.
They forced him into a chair in front of a telephone speaker system. Nathan knew what might be coming next…a ransom demand.
Lillian sat beside him, her hand possessively on his shoulder, occasionally stroking his hair or face as she spoke to him.
"Aelin is playing hard ball, Conjurer," Lillian told him, "I need you to talk with your Prime Minister…and express the seriousness of this situation, and what it could mean for you and your brothers should she deny them."
Nathan's chest went tight. He knew two things about his wife beyond doubt: she was a brilliant, cold-blooded strategist, and she loved him with a ferocity that frightened lesser men. He prayed she would be the Prime Minister now, not his wife.
The call connected, and Galena's voice was soon on the line. Her voice was strong, stone cold, and measured. Nathan could picture her in his mind, a beautiful, terrifying statue of composure.
"Prime Minister Slotskya," Lillian chirped, her voice sickly sweet. "We have your Conjurer with us. Are you ready to discuss terms?"
"I am," she said, her voice devoid of all emotion, "But you should know you are not the only one capable of detailing leverage."
"Is that so, Madam Prime Minister?" Lillian purred.
"Yes," Galena replied coolly, and she then began to lay out the facts as she had skillfully gleaned from Aelinian Intelligence, "Lillian Marks, 42. Former DARPA contractor dismissed for unethical experimentation. Husband, Harvey Marks, 45. A trust fund baby with a history of sexual assault charges that were mysteriously dropped. You are disciples of Aldus the Conqueror, but you are working alone against his wishes and the knowledge of your lustful habits. Your thirst for pleasure is funded by Harvey's rapidly dwindling inheritance. You are not a power player; you are a desperate, pathetic woman playing a game you do not understand against powers you cannot completely comprehend. The terms will indeed be changing. Aelin will never remove the veil or reveal its location to the world no matter how much you threaten or abuse our Brotherhood. The money…you may have that, but if I am informed of any further harm done to our king and Brotherhood, you will not receive a penny, and I will have no choice but to deploy our military on American soil and in full cooperation with the United States government to rescue our Brotherhood. Is this understood, Mrs. Marks?"
Lillian's face went white with shock. She sputtered, unable to find the words to reply to the blistering verbal assault. For Nathan, it was one of the best moments he'd ever had to experience in such a tense situation.
Galena then demanded to speak with the Conjurer. Lillian looked at Nathan, her face still a map of frustration and shock at being so thoroughly dismantled, and replied, "As you wish, Madam Prime Minister."
One of the thugs reached forward and pulled the gag out of Nathan's mouth, and he took in a deep breath, which caught in his throat with emotion. Galena heard this, but kept her composure as she spoke to him.
"Nathan," she said, her tone shifting to a formal, diplomatic inquiry. "What is your condition? And the condition of the others and our king?"
Nathan swallowed hard, forcing his voice to remain steady.
"We are...injured, exhausted, and afraid, Prime Minister," he said, using her title to reinforce the professional distance, "The Sentinel is very ill, but we don't know from what. And, I am concerned for the agency of the whole band, myself included."
It was a coded message to her. We are being controlled. Our powers are suppressed. We are being violated and tortured one by one. I am fine for now but in great danger.
"Be brave, Conjurer," Galena said, "Our nation is praying for your safe return."
It was her most diplomatic tone, but to him, it was literally her internally screaming, "I'm scared shitless for you!"
Lillian, flustered and angry, pulled him away from the call and doubled the monetary ransom, adding an extra million in Aelinian gold and precious gems.
She dropped the demand about the Veil, her power play completely dismantled by Galena's intelligence.
After the call, Lillian informed Nathan that once the ransom was paid, they would be released. Nathan, seeing a sliver of an opportunity, asked, "You have taken so much from us. At least give us this. Let us talk to each other. Please?"
Lillian, surprisingly, agreed.
"Harv and I have a charity party to attend. Enjoy your reprieve for an evening. It will give a little time for some of you to heal up. The festivities will resume tomorrow…and I have had my suspicions about you, Conjurer. You are handsome and sexy, just as your brothers are. There may be room to…discuss the finer points of sexuality."
Nathan's eyes burned with fiery hatred at this. They took him back downstairs and tied him to another support beam, but as promised, they didn't replace the gag. One by one, they ungagged the others. Each man took in a breath deeply, and Ricky began to cough hard.
"The boss says you get a night off," one of the guards, a hulking man named Kyle, sneered.
"But we'll be here,” The other goon, named Carl, added with a smirk, “Making sure you all stay doped up and powerless."
As soon as they were gone, Nathan spoke, his voice a low, urgent whisper.
"Listen to me... Galena knows what they are doing to us. She's working with the CIA, the FBI, and US Special Ops. They know we're on American soil, and they are coming for us."
He met each brother's eyes in turn, jaw set.
"She knows what Lillian has done. And she knows who Lillian plans to take next...”
“You...” Erik breathed.
Nathan only nodded. His eyes registered noticeable terror as he spoke.
“She wants to break every single one of us. She’s already made it clear to me that I’ll be going upstairs when she and Harvey get back.”
“I won’t let them.” Erik gave Nathan a look that said he meant business. “I’ll tear this post in half...drugs or not. I’ll tear this whole fucking house down before I let her touch you, Nathan.”
“Well, then we’re all screwed,” Ricky suddenly quipped weakly, “Think about it, dude...”
The unexpected humor hit them all like a warm, wet sponge in the face. But then Connor made a little chuckle, followed by Jace, and then Erik who finally understood the joke. Nathan managed a smile.
“I get the sentiment, Erik,” he said, “But no...no tearing the house down unless we’re no longer in it.”
“Wait ‘til we’re rescued,” Jace said with a tired sigh.
“If we’re getting rescued...” Connor said quietly.
Nathan saw the look in Connor’s eyes. Sullen, dark, and still frightened.
“I can’t see anything... No visions,” he continued, “So for all I know, we’ll be down here until she gets her fill of us. I can’t see a rescue...”
“We’re all drugged,” Jace told him gently, “Don’t lose hope.”
“Galena has already been working with the United States. The U.S. has forces they can send to get us out of here,” Nathan said, trying to assure Connor that hope still existed. “We just have to survive until they get here."
Nathan relayed the coded conversation from the ransom demand to his brothers.
"When I said our 'agency' was in danger, I was telling her that we've been... harmed…violated. That it's a real threat for all of us. Lillian came on to me upstairs. She's going through all of us one by one."
He explained what he’d meant by “agency.” We’ve been violated. Lillian’s going through all of us. Galena heard it. And she already knew about Ricky.” He met each of their eyes in turn. “She’s terrified. But she’s working.”
The dam broke, and the horrors they had endured spilled out in the dim, musty air. Jace spoke first, his voice a raw, broken whisper. He told them that Lillian and Harvey had brutally raped him twice, had two thugs beat him because he resisted, and then Lillian had Harvey whip him to make him pay for his defiance. To make him bleed even more.
"I did it to protect Connor," he choked out, his body wracked with a suppressed sob, "I did it so they wouldn't touch him. But I failed... I failed, Connor! I’m so sorry...I couldn’t..."
Jace dissolved into sobs. Connor's face was a mask of shame and fury. He looked at Jace and shook his head.
"They were going to get me, no matter what, Jace," he said, his voice hollow, "After they hurt Ricky because I resisted, and then hurt you so badly... I knew I was next. I knew it was inevitable. Nothing you could have done would have prevented it, Jace."
Ricky emitted a sob, painful and desperate. All eyes turned to him. He was slumped against the support beam, shivering violently. He was listening, hearing everything being said, and trying to keep his eyes open. Still burning with fever, he was sure he was losing ground, the physical fight to stay alive slipping further from his grip.
"It hurt," he whimpered, tears streaming down his face. "God, it hurt so much. They gagged me so I couldn't scream loud. They never touched me like they did you two, but they would have if I hadn’t been so sick. The whip... my back is on fire. My whole body is on fire. I think I might die in this basement, guys."
He was pale and clammy, his breathing shallow. His skin was the pallor of ash. Nathan feared an infection was setting in now in Ricky's body, a silent, deadly enemy in the darkness.
"Don't give up," Erik told him emotionally, "You can't give up, Ricky."
"Hang in there," Jace added, his voice cracking, "We're going to get out of here, man…please, Rick. Just survive…please."
Ricky nodded, saying, "I'm trying to, Jason…I really am."
"You have to make it through this, Rick," Erik told him, "We're not Battle Cry without our chaos goblin."
Ricky managed a tiny little laugh and whispered, "The goblin is losing his chaos."
"Stay with us, Ricky," Connor begged, "Don't go."
“I love you guys,” Ricky whispered to them, “Truly...”
That hit hard for them all. But the sentiment was shared.
“Back at ya, Sentinel,” Jace replied. Nathan, Connor, and Erik echoed this.
The room got quiet, with the only sound being Ricky's ragged breathing and occasional sobs from every single one of them.
Hours passed. It seemed like half of a day that they were left alone. It was a hollow reprieve at best. They could hear movement from upstairs, and once Darrell and another man clomped down the stairs and administered more sedatives to each of them, ignoring anything anyone said to them.
Jace was determined to inflict pain on his captors at any cost. Any of them, and whenever possible. He didn’t care if they hit him or not. It was his payback for the hell they were all being subjected to for Lillian’s gratification.
Jace had managed to bite Darrell hard when a hand was placed too close to his jaw. It was hard, and drew blood, as well as a copious amount of profanity. Darrell retaliated by punching him hard in the head, which resulted in Jace being dazed for a little bit, but even then Jace growled back at him, “You’re a fucking coward...”
“At least I’m free...Your Majesty...” Darrell taunted, mocking Jace with a stupid bow. Jace spat in his face when it came back up from the bow, which resulted in another punch that resulted yet another bruise.
As soon as Darrell left the basement, Nathan said, “Jace, you can’t keep that up, man. Pretty soon no one will be able to even recognize you.”
“I’ll heal,” Jace replied, “A lot faster than it’ll take Darrell.”
“Yeah, but I can’t keep seeing them do that to ya,” Erik said, emotion edging his words, “It’s... I can’t...”
Jace looked up at Erik, realizing what was being said. He wanted to be defiant, and to fight back, but not at the expense of his brother’s mental and emotional well-being.
“I’ll stop. I promise.” Jace said quietly, “I’m sorry...”
“We get it,” Connor said, “It’s real hard to see them hurt you, Jason. You’re our brother, our Guardian...”
“Our king...” Ricky added, his voice labored, “The best-lookin’ king...when he isn’t getting the shit beat out of him for biting some dumbass in a basement.”
Again, the unexpected spark of humor from the critically ill guitarist brought on a little bit of levity, but Jace agreed for his brother’s sake to not keep tormenting Lillian and Harvey’s minions.
More time passed and all five of them began to see the night brighten, hinting that dawn was arriving. All of them wondered if help would ever come. If they would all survive this nightmare. Jace even began to wonder if Connor was right. If they would be held and abused until every single one of them were tortured physically for the sexual gratification of a woman he now hated with every fiber of his being. He never hated any person, until now. He feared that hate would fester now, and infect his soul from that moment forward.
He had no time to contemplate that fear more, because the world above them exploded.
From upstairs came the sound of splintering wood, shouted commands, and the sharp, unmistakable crack-crack-crack of suppressed gunfire. They heard screaming, furniture thudding to the floor as if being knocked over, and pleas to not be shot.
It was a swift, violent, and brutally efficient symphony of a professional takedown. The brothers could hear the heavy thud of bodies hitting the floor, the panicked shouts of Kyle and Carl cut short. It was over in less than a minute.
Then, heavy, rhythmic boots on the stairs. Two figures appeared, dressed in black tactical gear, their faces obscured by night-vision goggles, weapons held at the ready. They moved like phantoms, their presence a sudden, overwhelming wave of relief.
"Navy SEALs," one of them said, his voice calm and steady. "We're here to get you out. You're safe now."
They moved quickly, cutting the bonds with practiced efficiency. Moving to Jace, the Navy Seal said, "We were called in by request of your Prime Minister and the President of the United States, your majesty. We're bringing you and your brothers home."
Jace thanked him, accepting the assistance of freeing him from his bonds.
"Can you stand, your majesty?" another Seal asked, and Jace looked at him and replied painfully, “No... I don’t...I’m not sure..."
As soon as Jace was free, he refused the offer to stand up and looked toward Connor. Without a word he moved stiffly, crawling on the floor toward his Visionary. When he reached Connor, Jace pulled him into a fierce, protective hug, the two men wordless, holding on to each other, both shaking visibly. They stayed like this until Nathan joined them once being freed from his bonds. He shook just as they were, and the three men held onto each other, each battling their own grief and the weight of what their bodies had endured. Erik went to them once he was free, kneeling down and joining the group for a little while, tears spilling down his face.
"We made it," he managed, placing a hand on Jace's head, "We survived."
“Barely,” Jace whispered back to him, “We almost didn’t”
"Ricky…" Connor whispered with a sob.
"I'll go with him to the hospital," Erik said firmly, "I'll stay there with him. I'll be fine."
Jace nodded at him and replied, "We'll see you both later then, Warrior."
Erik nodded to Jace, keeping his hand on Jace’s head for a bit longer before he went to Ricky, his massive frame gently shielding his shivering brother. The ropes were cut and Erik lowered Ricky to the floor, cradling him carefully as The SEALs began triage.
One of the SEALs checked Jace's physical injuries, with another examining Connor's psychological state. Connor was deeply shaken, tears spilling down his face in constant streams, but he was holding himself together with a composure that bordered on alarming given what had happened to him in that house. Jace and Nathan both wondered how long it would be before their Visionary dropped the veil of stoicism and allowed himself to fall apart.
When they got to Ricky, their professional calm tightened.
"He's burning up," the SEAL said, pressing a device to Ricky's forehead. "Temp's 103.5. Heart rate is erratic. We need a medevac, now." He spoke into his comm, and moments later, the distant wail of a siren reached them.
Ricky was carefully carried upstairs on a stretcher. The rest of the band, supported by the SEALs, followed. They were wrapped in thermal blankets and led out into the cool night air, blinking against the flashing red and blue lights. An ambulance was waiting, and Ricky was loaded in, Erik climbing in beside him, refusing to leave his side.
The rest of the band was taken to a secure location, checked over by medics. They had been there all of 10 minutes when a familiar face burst in the room and immediately began to explain who she was to the SEALs and nurses, who understood she was linked to the Brotherhood of Aelin and allowed her in to see them. Her voice was commanding, and one they were all happy to hear. Jace looked up, then stood up slowly, his eyes focused on Dr. Nancy Oksana. She returned his gaze and immediately crossed to him.
"Oh, my Guardian… Aelin’s sweet soul..." she said, reaching him, placing a caring hand on his bruised and bloodied face. Tears stung her eyes as she studied him carefully. Jace was shaking so hard he nearly went down. Nancy pulled him into a gentle hug, which soon became firmer as she realized Jace was sinking down to the floor. Nancy caught him and guided him down to the floor. A nurse was by them within seconds, Nancy calling for I.V. fluids immediately, diagnosing shock and directing them to attend to the king while she assessed Nathan and Connor’s conditions.
Nathan saw her immediately and accepted her hug gratefully, telling her they were happy she was there. His face was bruised and stained with the many tears he’d shed over the whole time they were captive.
"You seem more unharmed on the outside," Nancy told him, "But I'm more worried about how you're feeling in the head right now."
"I'll be fine," Nathan told her, pointing to Connor, "I'm more worried about him."
"I know you are, Nathan," Nancy told him, "Let me assess you before I go to him. Are you hurt at all? Any injuries?"
Nathan shook his head and told her the only thing they did to him was force him to make a ransom call.
"Nothing else happened to me, Nancy," Nathan said quietly, emotion thick in his voice, "Just go to Connor, Nancy... Please."
Nancy placed a caring hand on Nathan's face, feeling him trembling, seeing the tears threatening to spill over again, and said in a soothing tone, "Okay, Nathan…okay."
Connor was sitting on the floor just a few feet away, with his face buried in his hands, his long black curls hiding any sign of his total condition. Nancy went to him, kneeling down in front of him quietly.
"Connor," she said gently, studying him carefully. He was trembling slightly, his whole body one huge raw nerve. Nancy said his name again and placed a gentle hand on his head. Connor jumped a little and made a slight gasp, but then he looked up to see Nancy. Within seconds, Connor's composure broke completely and Nancy pulled him to her, comforting him like a mother comforting a child.
"Oh, my sweet, sweet Visionary," Nancy breathed, tears flowing from her own eyes now as she held Connor, letting him express every ounce of emotion he was fighting before.
"Again….it happened," Connor sobbed, "I…couldn’t let them hurt Jace again… or touch Nathan...or any of them."
"Oh, Connor," Nancy said quickly, "Do not force yourself to relive what they did to all of you in that house. You're safe now, you're no longer their hostage. You survived."
“No...” Connor replied, “I died in there. Each time, every touch. I died each time. I’m dead, Nancy...”
“No, Connor,” Nancy told him firmly, “You are alive! You survived...”
"I WANT TO GO HOME TO AELIN!" Connor screamed mournfully, sobbing out, "I don't want to be in here in Los Angeles...home, Nancy...Get us out of this damned town!"
"You'll be going home," Nancy told him with a kiss on the temple, pulling him to her in a tight hug. She rocked him in her arms gently and whispered to him, "I'll make sure of it."
Through a series of quiet, covert maneuvers, arrangements were made to quietly get most of the band transportation back to their kingdom. It would not be a quick trip by any means, but at least they were on their way home. Ricky, stable but weak, was cleared to travel once he was treated at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center and became strong enough.
Thanks to the generosity of the United States Air Force, The Brotherhood was flown from a private military airstrip to Ireland, and from there, boarded a plane that was officially bound for Iceland but was, in fact, commandeered by an Aelinian pilot. They were going home.
When they finally walked into the grand hall of the Aelinian palace, they all were met by family, crew, management, castle staff, and relieved Aelinian subjects, who cheered for them and called out endearments and well wishes to their Brotherhood. It was heartwarming and welcome.
The reunion was a storm of tears and hugs, a desperate, joyful release of all the fear and pain they had held inside.
And then, Galena saw Nathan.
The Prime Minister, the diplomat, the strategist, vanished. In her place was a wife who had been living a nightmare for a week. She ran across the grand hall and threw herself into his arms.
"Nathan," she sobbed, her face buried in his chest.
He held her tight, his own tears falling freely.
"I'm okay," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm okay, Galena. I'm home."
He pulled back just enough to look at her, a weak, tired smile on his face.
"My little KGB," he murmured. "You saved us."
This time, she didn't elbow him. She just kissed him, a deep, passionate, desperate kiss that was a promise and a prayer all in one.
Around them, the other reunions were just as poignant. Samantha held Jace tightly to her, touching his bruised and battered face and hugging him tenderly while failing to hide her emotion. She also sobbed as he held her, telling him how frightened she and everyone were when it first happened. She admitted she hadn't slept properly in a week. Samantha's touch was a gentle balm on his broken spirit, and she promised him a lifetime of healing. Jace held onto her like she was his lifeline.
Rebekah found Erik and dove into his arms, kissing him deeply, telling him through tears that God was protecting them all. Erik held her tightly, relieved to feel her in his arms again. Tears slipped down, and he buried his face in her hair to keep them from view.
Indira was there for Connor, her calm, loving presence a shield against the psychological scars he carried.
"My love," Indira whispered, tears streaming down her face as she held him, "I am with you, I see you, my love. I will spend an eternity if it means having you whole and smiling again."
Connor kissed her deeply; her touch better than any medication could provide. He held her tightly and whispered, "Just help me forget, Indy…help me forget."
They were all home, all safe, all surrounded by the people who would help them heal.
The nightmare was over. And in the heart of their hidden, protected nation, the Brotherhood of Aelin began the long, slow process of becoming whole again.
The official story, fed to the local news by a tight-lipped FBI spokesperson was mundane and believable. A high-stakes domestic terrorism operation gone wrong.
Lillian and Harvey Marks, a pair of radical anti-government extremists had been stockpiling illegal weapons and planning a chemical attack on major metropolitan locations. The raid by a joint FBI-HRT and Navy SEAL team was a necessary, preemptive strike to neutralize a credible threat.
The neighbors, interviewed for their fifteen minutes of fame, spoke of the Marks' reclusive nature and the strange, late-night comings and goings. No one mentioned a band of rock stars. No mention of magic. The Brotherhood's secret remained secure.
For Lillian and Harvey, justice was swift, silent, and far more terrifying than anything the American legal system could have devised. They weren't handed over to the local authorities. They were handed over to Aelinian Intelligence. In the sterile, white confines of an Aelinian black site, a place that existed outside of any international law, they were confronted by Galena Slotskya-Dallenger.
She didn't raise her voice. She didn't threaten. She simply laid out their new reality. They would be declared dead in the raid, their assets seized and funneled back into the accounts they had tried to steal from. They would spend the rest of their natural lives in a prison from which there was no escape, a place where their desires and their perversions would be a distant, impotent memory. They had wanted to play with power, and now they were nothing more than caged specimens, studied and forgotten.
"You wanted to force your putrid desires and brutality on our King…our Brotherhood…and onto my husband." Galena told Lillian Marks.
"Your…husband?" Lillian repeated curiously. Nathan walked up to the glass next to Galena, who melted into his arms as he placed them around her. He glared at Lillian. The anger in his sky-blue eyes was like daggers and Lillian's mouth hung open in shock.
"The Conjurer…is your husband," Lillian said with horror, now beginning to understand the full scope of what her punishment was for. Galena stepped up to the glass, eyeing Lillian with cold malice.
"You brutally raped and assaulted our king and our Visionary for nothing more than monetary gain and your own disgusting desires. You savagely tortured and nearly murdered our Sentinel," she said coldly, "You will spend the remainder of your life regretting these things… for kidnapping and threatening my husband and our Warrior. For this…it is my decree, and that of the King of Aelin, whom you violated so severely, that you and your husband never taste freedom again."
“If it were my choice,” Nathan added, “You both would be executed...but that is not Aelin’s way. Personally, I expect you and your pig of a husband to die in here...and then burn in hell for eternity.”
“You should count your blessings that he is not the High King...” Galena added with a satisfied smirk, “In fact, High King Elias chose this punishment for both of you himself...because he felt you deserved to be imprisoned for the rest of your pathetic lives with the constant reminder of what you did to him and his brothers. I’m sure you will enjoy the 24/7 Aelinian Broadcast programming, watching the men you tried to destroy and the country you played the wrong cards against survive, while you both rot in this prison.”
Lillian bowed her head regretfully, now understanding that her life, and that of her lecherous husband, was effectively over.
In his shadowed realm, far from the mortal world, Aldus the Conqueror watched the events unfold through a scrying pool. He let out a long, weary sigh, shaking his head in disgust.
"Lillian and Harvey," he murmured to himself, his voice a low, disappointed rumble. "Truly, not all who choose to walk the path of darkness are blessed with intellect. Some are merely... drawn to the noise." He dismissed them from his thoughts, their failure a minor, irritating footnote in his grand, cosmic design.
Back in Aelin, the true healing began. The band was gathered in the serene, sun-drenched sanctuary of the palace's healing wing. The physical wounds were mending, but the psychic trauma was a raw, open wound.
Sidney Greene, their road manager, trainer, and keeper of their deepest secrets, stood before them, a small, ornate vial in his hand. It contained the Elixir of Lenore, a potent brew he had helped perfect with Nathan's assistance, designed not to erase total memory, but to cauterize emotional pain.
“This will not make you forget what happened,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “I wish it could erase all of it. You will remember the abductions, the violations, the beatings. You will remember the fear. But not the intensity of it. The elixir severs the emotional connection to the events, dials the sharpness down to something you can carry. You will know you survived. You just won’t feel the full weight of how.”
One by one, he administered the elixir.
Jace went first. As the liquid took effect, the shattered, hollow look in his eyes began to fade. The memory of being assaulted multiple times, of his powerlessness and despair... it remained, but the gut-wrenching feeling of being beaten and violated, dissolved like mist in the sun. He was still the Guardian, but the weight of his sacrifice no longer threatened to crush him.
Connor was next. The psychic stains of his violation, the feeling of his mind and body being invaded, were washed clean. The memory was a fact, a data point, but the terror and shame were gone, replaced by a quiet, resilient strength.
Ricky drank last, still weak from the fever. The whip, the lashes, the helpless screaming faded into a distant story that had happened to someone else. For Erik and Nathan, who had been forced to listen to it all, the guilt and the rage softened and blurred into the background, freeing them to be the protectors and rulers they were meant to be.
They were whole again. Not unchanged, but unbroken. They were the Brotherhood of Aelin, bound by magic, music, and a shared scar. They had faced the darkness, not on a battlefield, but in the suffocating confines of a basement, and they had emerged, not just victorious, but truly, finally, home.
Rather than plan on a repeat trip back to Los Angeles to make the album, Jace, Nathan, and the Aelinian Congress discussed the building of a state-of-the-art recording studio and practice space right there in Aelin. The Congress was more than happy to grant the funding if it meant keeping their Brotherhood safe while they pursued their other career. Within a short period of time due to the skilled hands of builders and craftsmen from all over the country, the studio was completed, and The Brotherhood of Aelin could now just be Battle Cry, without needing to constantly be on guard or look over their shoulders to see who would try to abduct or ambush them.
Within weeks, they were working on songs, born out of the fury, despair, and terror of the kidnapping. They called the new album "Shadowlands," because all of them truly felt they had been living in a land of evil and shadows since 1983. The songs poured out of Connor like wine from an uncorked bottle. Nathan pulled an old song he'd written when he was younger and rehashed it with the band, because it fit the overall feel of the other songs.
"Shadowlands" was Battle Cry's musical, primal scream.
Even Jace wrote a song, and sang on that and another that Connor and Nathan had written together about Samantha back when Jace and she were still getting to know each other. His thoughts had never been exactly angelic when it came to her, and Connor had heard every word of them. Connor jokingly relayed this to Nathan, and the song "Crimson Flame" was born.
When he presented the song he wrote, "How About No," the lyrics read like he was admonishing a stalker, but it wasn't hard for his brothers to see past the façade. The raw power of the demo alone suggested it would be one of the hardest songs of their catalog. The resulting video for the song was stark and intense, with the extra added surprise of Jace expelling a phenomenal burst of energy that surrounded him in light and destroyed nearly everything in the hallway as he walked down it singing the last long notes of the song. When he stopped singing, the aura around him faded and Jace fell against the wall, sliding down into a seated heap, falling unconscious. This was kept on film and used in the final ten seconds of the video. An hour later, Jace awoke to see Sidney and Samantha hovering over him like frightened parents. For everyone else his collapse had been scary and concerning. To Jace, it was cathartic. It was the best he'd felt in months, even though it frightened everyone around him.
The finished record was a ten-song therapy session, raw and unvarnished and better for it. Nathan called it Battle Cry’s open declaration of war against violation and assault. Shadowlands was released, and a tour would follow, even if the thought of leaving the safety of Aelin’s Veil put them all on edge. Then word came of a hard rock and metal convention being planned in Reno, with a private panel for Battle Cry and their oath holders organized by Aelinian citizens and a few die-hard Brigade Fan Club members. Once it was laid out for them, they agreed to the panel and a casual walk through the event.
While still nervous about returning to America, there was excitement about "going home" to Reno, and the hope that they might actually let themselves have fun.
Jace also saw this as an opportunity to bring the band to his home turf and share his tribe's care and love. Without saying so, he also needed to see his brother. His tribal family. Since the kidnapping, he had become the invisible man. Still keeping to his duties as King and governor, he spent more time in the solitude of the royal residence. It was getting to the point where Galena had taken to siccing Nathan on him to make him leave the residence and just take a walk.
"We need to do that convention, Jace" Nathan told him, "We can't hide forever. You can't just put out an album and not tour to promote it. We have to get past what happened…in the only way we know how."
Jace nodded quietly. Nathan studied him.
"I know we went through hell. You and Connor especially, but if you two just refuse to deal with it all, we're not going to be Battle Cry anymore." Nathan told him, curtly, "Hell, if we keep being as we are right now, we won't even be The Brotherhood of Aelin. We can't be like that, Jason. We just can't."
"I know," Jace replied softly, "I know we can't. The convention…it sounds like a lot of fun. And, I want to visit my tribe. I want you all to visit them with me."
Nathan smiled, knowing how close Jace and his brother, Tobin were. It would be just the right way to bring them together to heal. Nathan clapped a hand on Jace's shoulder and said, "Okay, let's go see your brother and the tribe…and have fun at a fan convention."