Ezra Echelon Liberation System

Chapter 2: Shackles of Betrayal

Ezra woke up to loud laughter and the sound of metal clinking. His head throbbed, a dull pain spreading behind his eyes like a hammer hitting his skull. He tried to move, but his body wouldn’t listen. Panic rose in his chest.

 

"What—"

 

He blinked to clear his vision and looked around. His arms were tied behind him to a thick wooden post. The rough rope pressed painfully into his wrists with every small movement. The air was heavy, smelling of damp grass and sweat, and a cold wind chilled his exposed skin.

 

It took a moment for Ezra to understand where he was: in a wide, open clearing surrounded by towering trees that stood like silent guards. The noon sun cast long shadows on the ground, revealing figures that Ezra recognized.

 

"No," he whispered.

 

Tied to similar posts nearby were his family: his father, tall and proud even in this situation, his head lowered; his mother, her long hair messy, eyes shut as if she were still unconscious; and his two sisters, Lila and Mirel, looking small and fragile, slumped against their bindings. Ezra's heart sank.

 

"Mother! Father!" Ezra shouted, his voice filled with panic. "Lila! Mirel!"

 

His sisters didn’t move. His parents didn’t move.

 

Ezra pulled at the ropes, using all his strength against the unyielding post. The wood wouldn’t budge. His wrists burned as the ropes dug in deeper, but he ignored the pain and yelled for his family to wake up.

 

"Stop struggling, Ezra."

Ezra heard a voice next to him, cold and distant. He froze, his breath stuck in his throat. Slowly, he turned his head.

 

Before him stood Master Lorrin, his silver hair shining in the light. But something was very wrong: his tutor had no face, his features were like stone, and he was no longer the man Ezra had known. His hands were clasped behind him, and he didn’t even have his usual staff, which had always been a source of comfort.

 

"Master Lorrin?" Ezra's voice trembled. "What’s happening? Where are we? Please help me!"

 

Lorrin remained silent, staring at Ezra with icy eyes, lacking warmth and familiarity. Ezra felt a knot in his stomach. He searched Lorrin's expression for any sign that this was a mistake, but there was only emptiness.

 

"Master Lorrin!" Ezra called out again, panic rising in his voice. "Please talk to me! What’s going on?"

 

The sound of boots crunching on the ground drew Ezra's attention. He looked around the clearing and saw armed warriors forming a wide circle around them, their dark armor gleaming. Their faces were hidden behind metal helmets, and they gripped their katanas with fierce glares, watching Ezra's family with suspicion. Even with their faces covered, he could sense their anger. He never imagined so many people could hold such hatred for them.

 

And then he arrived.

 

A towering figure stepped forward from the group of warriors and walked into the open space. Ezra's eyes widened as he saw the man: enormous, a true giant whose every move seemed to tremble the ground. He wore black armor with silver trim, and on his chest was a symbol: a silver eye on a book—the emblem of the Archival sect.

 

Ezra's heart raced. The Archival sect.

 

The Archival had always been the Echelon's most formidable enemies, their belief in knowledge for a purpose making them cunning. They had never directly attacked the Echelon before. Until now.

 

The giant held a thick leather file in one hand. He stopped in the middle of the field and fixed a sharp gaze on Ezra and his family. The weight of his presence felt heavy, like a weight pressing down on Ezra's chest.

 

"This," the man's voice resonated, deep and authoritative, "is a day of reckoning."

 

The warriors in the clearing stood tall, the soft clinking of their weapons echoing. Ezra felt a chill of fear.

 

"What's happening?!" Ezra shouted, his voice hoarse. "Who are you?!"

 

The man ignored him and opened the file, looking through its pages.

 

"Ezra Valenit, son of the Echelon's leader," he declared. "You and your family are accused of terrible crimes against the continent."

 

Ezra stared in disbelief. "What?! That's impossible!"

 

The man's sharp eyes glanced at him briefly before returning to the file. "The Echelon sect has long concealed its wrongdoings behind a mask of peace and freedom. But that ends now. The charges include treason, sheltering traitors, and stirring rebellion against the Archival sect."

 

Ezra's mind spun. "What are you saying? My family hasn't done anything wrong! Let us go!"

 

His tone was icy, overpowering the man. "These offenses deserve a death sentence."

 

Ezra's heart dropped. "What!?"

 

"Be quiet," Master Lorrin snapped sharply.

 

Ezra looked at him in shock. "What do you mean be quiet? You know this is unjust! Master Lorrin, please say something!"

 

Lorrin remained still, his face as blank as ever.

 

Ezra's face flushed with anger. "This is a lie!" he shouted. "The Archival sect has no right to accuse us!"

 

"That's enough," the large man growled.

 

Ezra's protest was abruptly silenced by a sudden punch to his stomach. The force knocked the breath out of him, and he doubled over as much as the ropes would allow. His vision swam as he coughed, struggling to breathe.

 

When he could see again, Lorrin stood over him, fist clenched.

 

The accusation in Ezra's red-rimmed eyes was clear. "Why?" he gasped, his voice breaking with emotion.

 

Lorrin continued to stare, his expression cold and unyielding.

 

"Is this—?" Ezra coughed again, trying to find his voice. "Is this some kind of test? A training exercise?" His voice trembled. "Please tell me this isn't real."

 

Lorrin remained silent, simply turning away.

 

A heavy silence fell over the scene. Ezra's heart raced as the warriors shifted. Five of them stepped out from the group. They were executioners, dressed in black robes with hoods hiding their faces, each wielding a long, sharp sword that glinted menacingly in the sunlight.

 

Ezra felt a tightness in his throat as he observed their deliberate movements.

 

"No," he whispered, his voice trembling. "No, no, no! Please, stop!"

 

The executioners advanced with chilling precision, spreading out to face Ezra and his family. He turned to his father, still unconscious, and his mother, who remained still. "Wake up! Please, someone wake up!"

 

Lila let out a low groan, her head drooping as she began to regain consciousness. Mirel whimpered softly. Eira's panic turned into desperate pleading. "Stop this! I don’t understand! We haven’t done anything wrong!" In unison, the executioners lifted their swords, the blades gleaming in the light. The imposing man stood still, his cold gaze surveying everything. Ezra's chest tightened with sobs. "Master Lorrin!” he cried, his voice breaking. "Help us!"

 

But there was no answer. The swordsmen took a step closer. Then another. Ezra struggled against the ropes, screaming until his voice was raw. No one heard him. No one moved. The blades loomed nearer, their shadows casting a dark veil over his family.