Colonel Maurize paced in front of the young rebel, staring down at him analytically. By Tilotarian standards, he was a mere child, but that didn't make him any less dangerous... or any less stubborn. He scowled, noting that despite his fervent attempts to force answers out of the boy, he still would not speak. What more would he have to do to get the information he wanted?
"I haven't even begun to expend my strength," the colonel reminded him. "I can keep going long after your health fails you. So why don't you just end the suffering now and answer my question?"
"N... never," the boy coughed. "I'll never give in to you!"
"Hm. Then you must be particularly fond of pain." The colonel held up a hand, with tiny flames now dancing at his fingertips. "Because you will only feel more of it until I get what I came here for."
"I won't—"
"Stop right there!"
Colonel Maurize frowned, glancing over his shoulder as three more young rebels charged into the room, ready to attack. The soldiers accompanying him fell into battle stances, and Colonel Maurize groaned inwardly. These doggedly persistent rebels were such a nuisance.
"Leave my friend alone!" cried the foremost of the rebels, a boy in red carrying what appeared to be a puremetal sword.
"How quaint," Maurize replied dully. "So you've come here thinking you can stop us, have you?"
"We can stop you," the boy retorted, adjusting his grip on the sword. "And we will."
Colonel Maurize gave a disdainful snort. "If you insist. I can get my information elsewhere. Regardless..." He gestured to the soldiers beside him. "Take care of these pests for me."
"You heard the colonel!" one of the Tilotarian officers added, stepping forward and signaling his men to do likewise. "Get them!"
And with that, Colonel Maurize left the room, leaving the others to deal with the rebels. If the idiots were going to be this much of a hassle about it, then it wasn't worth his effort. As he said, there were plenty of others he could get his information from... and he would interrogate every last one of them until he got his answer. After all, General Donovan would expect nothing less.
* * *
The battle was tough, but finally, they prevailed. Gloria looked like she was about ready to collapse, and Almodine was a bit worse for the wear as well, but they were alive, and that was what mattered. Vallen let out a sigh, sheathing his sword as he knelt in front of the friend they had come to rescue. The poor man had several wounds, but mainly he seemed to be heavily burned, likely from dealing with that Fire-wielding colonel earlier.
"Are you alright, Cecil?" Vallen asked.
Cecil coughed weakly. "I've... I've been better."
Vallen frowned, starting to undo the bands that kept his friend in place. "I'm sorry we couldn't make it here sooner."
"No, I'm just... I'm glad you came at all," Cecil replied, wincing in pain. "Listen, Vallen, I didn't tell him anything, but I'm afraid he might— ngh!"
"Shh, hey, it's okay," Vallen interrupted. "You're hurt. We should get back to the cabin and rest up."
"Wait, Vallen, I—" Cecil coughed again, before looking Vallen in the eye. "We're in danger. Especially you."
Vallen was silent at first. And then, he sighed. "...I know."
With that, Vallen stood up, having finished untying Cecil. "We really should get back to the cabin. Do you think you can walk?"
Cecil nodded, slowly climbing to his feet and trying to ignore the pain. "I think so... I can try, at least."
"Don't worry, Cecil. We're here to help," Almodine offered, hurrying over to help steady him.
"Ngh... thanks," Cecil said, smiling weakly at Almodine.
Vallen gave a small smile of his own, glad to see his friends, if not unharmed, still alive, and willing to help out where they could. Then, with a nod, he turned to the door, heading toward the exit. "Let's go, then."
The others nodded, following after him. At least for now, they were safe, and that was all that mattered.
