Improved picture edit: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/37814645/

"You think we can what?"

"Dig our way out of this siege!"

Such was a sample in the back-and-forth between the Great Ga'hoole Tree's two Snowy Owl monarchs, and Gylfie, who was accompanied by Twilight, Digger, and Otulissa. The four owls were perched in front of King Boron and Queen Barran, all meeting in the esteemed Parliament hollow.

In her prior conversation with Digger, what seemed like simple words of wisdom had inadvertently given her the possible key to their escape from the Pure One's sinister trap. Once that spark had been lit, she knew that she had to bring it to the king and queen at once. Digger was quick to let their friends know, and they joined in the conversation as well.

"We don't have the positioning needed to break through the Pure Ones. They would push us back if we tried to fly above them, and clearly going around isn't possible either," Gylfie explained.

"That leaves us with one option: under."

The Snowy Owls still didn't fully grasp the proposed solution, only staring at her in befuddlement. So she carried on. "We get all the fit Guardians together, gather whatever equipment we can, and begin digging ourselves underneath the tree, the island, and the Pure Ones. Once we're clear on the other side, we attack them from behind and in front."

"A pincer movement," Otulissa chimed in. "A rather unorthodox one, but the same concept applies."

"They'd never see it coming," Digger concurred. "While they sit there waiting for us to make a move, they won't realize that we're sneaking out right under their beaks. We'd catch them off guard, and then have them surrounded."

"But outmatched?" Barran countered. "Assuming we could get a clear path through, how long would it take us to reach the other side? Days? Weeks? With the food portions we have now, that would nearly drain most of the Guardians by the time they'd need to strike."

"We'd rest right before we're ready to break out," Gylfie said to that. She wouldn't have come to them with the idea had she not thought it through, not thought it viable.

Seeing that the two were still not fully convinced, Gylfie pressed on. "Look," she said, steeling herself, a persistent plea glowing in her eyes. "I understand that this isn't ideal. A lot could go wrong, and we'd be stretching ourselves to our limits," she said bluntly. "But right now, this is our only chance. If we don't do something soon, we'll just keep rotting, week after week, until we can't fight back anyway. I, for one, would rather not wait for that to happen."

The Elf Owl kept looking up at her rulers, hardened perseverance clear on her face. She was not going to give this up. Not when so much was at stake. Not when so many lives were on the line.

Not when a friend needed her.

"Well, I'm willing to give it a shot," Twilight committed as he bulked himself up.

"As am I," Digger joined.

"Me too," Otulissa agreed.

While Gylfie looked at her friends with the deepest appreciation, the king and queen exchanged their own glances. They sat deeply in thought, silently debating the issue through with each other. It was true that they had had enough of this ordeal as well, and this idea, while risky, had more promise than anything else at the moment. They both admired this brave, clever Elf Owl, who currently stood for everything the Guardians hoped to be. Now was not the time for inaction or negligence; it was time to prove themselves, as the enduring fighters that they were.

Finally, they turned to their subjects. With kingly authority, Boron said, "Very well. You have our support in this endeavor."With no time to lose, Gylfie's plan was spread around across the tree. Many were similarly skeptical that the plan could even work at all, but they also concluded, like everyone else, that it was their best shot at this point. Everyone was tired of being trapped in here, as if the tree had become a prison, tired of being useless while the situation around them refused to let up. Even if their efforts ended with disaster, they would rather go down fighting than fade away quietly, nothing more than a whimper in the sullen night.

Every Guardian took part, or at least those who were in good enough shape to do so after the battle. Even Boron and Barran vowed to get their claws dirty when their time allowed for it. The Guardians spent a majority of the next night forming and solidifying the details of the plan. They charted their intended digging courses and destinations, as they would need multiple tunnels to multiple points to truly surround the Pure Ones. They would go up to just short of the coastline, where they wouldn't be instantly spotted.

Everyone arranged shifts and schedules for their turn to dig, as well as assigning roles for when the attack was ready regarding who would strike from where. A prime position was found for the beginning of their excavations, a place that would be obscured from any closely-watching Pure One and would easily give way to the soil underneath. They also needed to plan out how they would eat, for the energy would require more than the reduced portions they were currently taking in. The initial idea was to take turns cutting further back, as no one wanted to take helpings from the non-Guardians.

However, they soon discovered that such measures wouldn't quite be necessary. A large majority of the rest of the tree's adult owls, little by little, stepped forward to volunteer their time and effort to the mission. Most were not used to such intensive, overbearing work, but they were more than willing to take the daunting task on board if it meant helping their protectors and playing a role in defending their home. They wouldn't fight once the trap was sprung, but their help would undoubtedly speed the process along and reduce the strain on the Guardians.

One of such volunteers was Pelli, despite her having lived at the tree for so little time.

"Are you sure, dearie?" Ezylryb asked. "We're not forcing anyone to help. This is going to take a lot out of us-"

"You're not asking me," Pelli stated firmly. "I'm asking you. Please ... let me help."

Pelli's time at the Great Tree, while relatively limited, had inspired her greatly. It had more than lived up to the legends surrounding it, and had offered her a new life when her old one had fallen apart. As did the dashing Barn Owl who had brought her there and captured her heart in the process. His story alone was remarkable, but in the time she spent with him, observing his skill, his kindness, and his devotion to helping others - even something as trivial as reading lessons - she had formed a newfound resolve in her heart to do whatever she could to make some sort of contribution back.

She would be more than just an onlooker. She couldn't fight - yet - but she could make a difference.

As the final preparations were taking place, Boron and Barran couldn't help but feel their hearts warming with immense pride in their owls. Just as things were looking inescapable, even as the toll of the siege was far too evident on their bodies and minds, everyone had stepped up and come together. They were united, each contributing whatever was needed to save each other and everything they loved. Even the younger owlets wanted to help, and despite being firmly told no, it was a sign of the noble birds they would one day grow up to be.

The Guardians of Ga'hoole would make sure they had the chance to do so.It took a good deal of adjusting to the owls' new lives underground.

Most beings of their nature were used to the expansive skies, sweeping winds, and high-hanging branches of their daily lives, taking joy in the freeing space that their usual habitats provided. By contrast, dwelling for hours upon hours in tunnels of dirt was the complete polar opposite.

Space was very limited, with the largest of owls only able to go through one at a time, and many were developing a mild case of claustrophobia that only got worse the further they went. While the darkness wasn't a problem for these night-dwelling birds, they were still completely surrounded by walls of soil. Not only was it hardly appealing for the eyes, but it denied them any glimpses of the wonderful scenery they were used to. Instead, down here, their minds had to provide them with visions of what they yearned for, until their goal was finally accomplished.

Digger and Sylvania, fellow Burrowing Owl and leader of the Tracking Chaw, were unsurprisingly useful assets. They utilized the burrowing techniques of their kind to yield great speed and efficiency, and were able to assist some others in replicating them. The strength of larger owls like Twilight and Bubo also proved invaluable, able to make solid progress with even the barest of tools. Even Pelli showed herself to have quite the endurance for someone so unused to this kind of work.

Nest maid snakes delivered food and water to the working owls, as well as moral support to their winged friends in the process. Shifts were taken as planned, allowing owls to tend to their other daily duties, even if in a more limited way than they were used to. They were still light on many important resources, even more so now that the tree's top priority had been shifted to the plan. But they did what they could, trying to maintain some sense of normalcy while awaiting their freedom.

The first day turned out more fruitful than anyone had hoped. With the fresh energy and willpower that came from it only being Day 1, the owls ultimately exceeded the distances they were expecting to make by this point. They weren't close, far from it, but they could feel the difference made in just a day. This revitalized their belief that, if they kept at it, they could launch their attack sooner rather than later.

The following days, however, did not turn out to be as productive.

Dealing with the conditions and strain was not too terrible initially. It was difficult, but felt fairly doable. But once enough time passed, hour after hour, day after day, the effects were piling up and slowly breaking everyone down.

The owls were exhausted from the long, drawn-out, seemingly endless grind. Time was of the essence, which drove them to keep trying to work faster, but that only depleted them further. They could rarely truly rest, for even when they weren't digging, they were forced to deal with the less-than-optimal conditions the tree had been subjected to, as well as having to make up for certain other tasks they couldn't get to during their digging shifts. The reduced amount of sleep they had partaken in didn't help either, nor did spending less time with friends and family to fuel their morale.

They were also, of course, extremely hungry. The sounds of scraping dirt were often accompanied by the echoes of grumbling stomachs. The difference between the energy they were expending and how much they ate was growing wider as the mission continued. The thinning effects could be seen on a good amount of them now; all fat was being burned, and in a few cases, muscle mass was starting to deteriorate. It was complemented by the dirt and grime they frequently ended up coated in, with preening and cleaning only able to alleviate so much. Other owls offered their help, and even their entire nightly helping of food. But they were all rejected; no further suffering needed to take place.

The worst part out of everything, however, was that every one of these factors contributed to the pace of their progress slowing down at an exponential rate. What took merely an hour at the beginning required nearly triple the time now. The hopes of many were beginning to shrivel up, much like their stomachs. Which in turn lessened their drive and made the slowdown even worse.
They had spent so much time in this hell. Five days in, and things were looking bleaker than any other point in this mission. And they still had so much more to go. They fought off exhaustion, hunger, and possibly the biggest threat, their decaying spirits. But they were slipping, coming closer and closer to losing with each passing hour.

Nowhere was this more evident than on Gylfie.

She was among those currently digging, with Digger and Pelli nearby. Her once-portly form was dwindling, clumps of dirt partially concealing her rust-colored head and mussing up the feathers on her tiny wings. Having been at it for five hours straight this night, her breathing was heavy and ragged as she took in all the air she could in this oppressive space. She was hunched over, often stumbling haphazardly, her wings drooping against the soil-covered floor. But she kept going, persistent despite the highly negligible amount of work she could achieve at this point.

"Gylfie ..." Digger said softly, noticing the physical fatigue his friend was experiencing. "Maybe you should head back and rest."

Gylfie shot a weakened glare in his direction. "My shift isn - *huff* - isn't over y-yet."

"I know, I ... I just think that you-"

"I don't - *huff* I don't need to head *huff* back," Gylfie heaved out. "I'm fi-*huff* fine."

She clearly wasn't, and she knew it too. But she didn't care. They had been working for too long, and yet their efforts were slowing by the day. She needed to work harder, faster! Make up for lost ground! This had to stop, they couldn't let up, not until they could finally break through, finally finish it!

Pelli watched her as well, gravely concerned. She was quite fatigued herself, but long periods of exertion like this weren't quite as drastic on her form.

She and Digger saw the poor Elf Owl's movements get sloppier, more strained. She occasionally just dug through thin air, giving an exasperated groan when she did so. She clenched her talons, trying to keep her head up as her breaths grew heavier. Sensing herself growing too weary to continue, she tripled down her efforts, as if their destination was merely a few feet away. As if this was their final chance.

I have to keep going ... Have to ... I ...

"Gylfie!" Digger shouted out when he saw her finally topple. Pelli rushed over, just in time to allow Gylfie to collapse into the Barn Owl's soft, golden wing.

As Pelli slowly eased the smaller owl down into the dirt, Gylfie began to gently weep into her wing. The female Tyto brought her other one over to stroke her friend's head, but it did little good as her cries began to escalate.

"I can't do this," Gylfie whimpered shakily. "We ... we can't ..."

"It's okay," Digger tried to soothe. "We take it little by little."

"There's no time!" Gylfie exclaimed, or came as close as she could to exclaiming. "We can't last much longer!"

Digger and Pelli both dearly sympathized with her plight, for they were having similarly dark thoughts. To spend so much of these past days in this tunnel, deprived as they were, working relentlessly towards their goal, was bad enough. But as it all took its toll and they grew weaker, it was increasingly hard to ignore how far from a guarantee this plan was. Getting through past the Pure Ones line wasn't even the end of it; they still had a battle to engage in, which wasn't certain on its own even with their pincer formation.

But even further, what would happen even if they were victorious? With how many forces the Pure Ones turned out to have, the regime as a whole surely couldn't be vanquished in a single fight. This whole struggle was far from the end of the threat they posed, which meant they could be in for Glaux knew how many days more of fighting, violence, and death. Many who had shared Soren's hopes for peace were now beginning to see that as an impossibility.

Soren ... Gylfie lamented.

They still didn't know if he was even alive, or if any of the missing owls were. So even Gylfie's motivation to find him was compromised. To fight for something that may no longer be attainable, something so uncertain, made it that much more difficult to keep her mind free from the realms of despair.

"I'm sorry," Gylfie kept weeping. "If we had been stronger back in Silverveil, if we could have done something. If I could have-"

"No," Pelli said sharply. "This isn't your fault. It's no one's except those damned owls who trapped us in the first place. I've said it before, and you need to understand that."

This was a side to Pelli that Soren had experienced more than others, but Gylfie had caught glimpses of it as well. She was generally calm and poised in her demeanor, but when a situation called for it, she proudly displayed a very strong will that was uncommon for most creatures, never giving up her beliefs even in the face of death. She had been willing to die in a fire when she thought her only other option was submit herself to Soren, who she'd thought was a Pure One.

"Besides," Digger added. "This whole plan was of your making. We've gotten this close because of you," he said with an encouraging smile.

After another sniffle, Gylfie raised her head up to look at the two. She saw in Digger a creature far wiser than his years should permit, the deepest-thinking mind of the Band she'd come to be a part of. Seeing him display such unwavering pride in her meant more than he could know ... or maybe he did know. She then saw in Pelli the same warm, encouraging hope and support that Soren would provide her with, as well as the same fighting spirit that refused to break in the face of adversity. It was no wonder they were drawn to each other.

"But what if it fails?" Gylfie asked, her voice growing a bit more solid.

"It won't," Pelli said resolutely. "We'll get the tree back. And when it's done, we'll find Soren. Alive."

"H-How ... how do you know?"

"... I don't know," Pelli responded. "I believe.""Struma," Ezylryb spoke.

The Short-Eared Owl lay still on her bed. Her chest barely moved as she fought her own war for each breath. Ezylryb stood over her, his half-squinted gaze peering down at her bittersweetly.

Strix Struma had already come back on the brink of death as it was. But with how thin the Ga'hoole owls' resources had been spread, she hadn't been able to receive the care she truly needed. The nurses and maids did their best, but her condition was too severe to do much about other than keep her alive. Every day she got a little worse, and many were fearing that the treatments were merely delaying the inevitable.

She turned her head agonizingly slowly, a hushed, wheezing breath coming from her bashed-in beak, as she weakly returned the older owl's gaze.

"Ly- *cough* Lyze," she croaked out, referring to him by the name he was known under in legend.

"Easy there," Ezylryb hushed. He took her talon in his, gently rubbing a claw along hers to give the barest form of physical comfort.

Almost inaudibly between the raspy, hollow breaths, Struma said, "I ... I have done all I can."

"Whatever do you ..." Ezylryb began, before her words' meaning struck him.

He leaned further over her, feeling his throat quiver at her implications. "No ... don't you speak like that now," he pleaded. The usual steady, upbeat demeanor in his voice was gone, now stricken with worry.

He turned his head up and spoke out, "Maids, maids, please, we need-"

But Struma tightened her hold on his talon, with what he believed was just about the last of her strength. "Worry not for me." Her voice, somehow, still carried the spark of nobility and strength that so many knew her for. "My dear, old friend ... you ha- *gasp* ..."

"... Strix?"

The Short-Eared Owl's eyelids slowly closed, as her head lowered down. "...... You have a battle to win."

Her chest stopped moving entirely, and Ezylryb felt her claw go slack and slip out of his.

The grizzled old owl had seen a lot in his time. He had grown hardened in the face of adversity, peril, and many losses incurred from both battle and natural causes. But he still hung his head low, burying his face into the chest of his now-lifeless ally, fellow warrior, and friend.

The nest maids summoned by him looked on, all realizing what had just happened. They looked at each other solemnly, before giving the Whiskered Screech his space to mourn.

Strix Struma had been one of the best of them. A friend to many, a hero to more. And now she was gone, another victim of this senseless conflict. Ezylryb was already dealing with enough. The possible – probable, even – loss of Soren weighed down heavily on him. He'd grown very close to the gold-hearted young lad, almost viewing him like a son of his own. But now, Struma's demise only served to shroud his heart even further to the edge of despair.

As he lay there in his grief, Lyze of Kiel made a silent promise: He would fulfill Struma's final wish. They would win.

For her. For Soren. For all those they had failed to protect.As strenuous and demoralizing as the Guardians' plight at the tree had been in the past week, Soren's was not been much better.

After being forced to wallow in his bonds for what he considered far too long, he was deeply chagrinned to find out that his captors didn't intend on removing them often. Far from it: most of each day was spent in that blasted hollow, kept guarded primarily by the constricting ropes that still held his body. Guards were still being stationed in the hall, which further angered Soren. He didn't see why he had to be kept tied up if he couldn't escape anyway. Was he just that feared, or was it Kludd and Nyra's cruel way of torturing him? The former wouldn't explain the need for his gag ... unless Nyra feared him getting into Kludd's head, and that her mate - Ugh, he thought - wasn't as firmly under her spell as he appeared to be.

Soren received even less food than his besieged friends, one pathetic fraction of a proper meal every two days. Water was just as sacredly rare, resulting in dehydration and worsening the drying of his beak and mouth from the cloth stuffed inside. The gag was removed for these occurrences, but he was expected to eat and drink as promptly as possible. This prevented him from really taking the opportunity to fill his beak with much-needed air, before the fabric was mercilessly jammed back in as soon as he was done. It was his only instance of company outside of Kludd, who came in to mock and belittle his "baby" brother, and Nyra, who continued her filthy efforts to make him hers.

Every day made it harder to hold on. His solid build was clearly losing weight, and he could feel himself growing weaker. While he was prohibited from doing much in the way of physical activity, he was increasingly, intensely stiff and sore, experiencing his own form of claustrophobia as so much of his body was locked up. His state of mind was even worse, scrambling to hold on to any semblance of belief that he would not die this way, that he would not only meet an end filled with such suffering, but failing as Guardian, friend, brother, and son.

He was let out of his bonds on an all-too-infrequent basis. His wings were only untied twice, both times on Nyra's orders to ensure that her potential future king didn't suffer permanent damage to his able body. But it also helped to ensure that however slimmer he got from the minimal nourishment, the ropes could be re-tied and made tighter to adjust accordingly.

His legs were untied the most often, but the reasons why made it almost not worth it. As much relief as Soren felt whenever his slender legs were allowed to separate and spread freely, it was quickly dashed when it was to escort him for usually one of two purposes.

The first was when Kludd felt like parading his captive around to his fellow soldiers. He would force Soren down to some other section of their base, where a group of owls would be joyously waiting for the forcibly-flightless hero. The walk usually consisted of Soren looking up at his brother with heartfelt, pleading eyes, and Kludd reacting with a cold scowl of rejection. Occasionally Soren would press further with a pitiful attempt to speak, but otherwise he simply looked ahead, beak anxiously chewing on the gag.

Kludd remained very apprehensive of letting his brother stay alive in their premises, although he himself wasn't fully sure why. With the intensive measures they were taking to keep him helpless every single moment, and all his potential rescuers trapped under siege, there was really no threat that came from it. But continuing to come across the sight of his sibling, even just knowing he was in their midst, never failed to cause his blood to boil.

He had done so much to be rid of the pathetic life he once had, and had gone even further since to prove that life to be dead and buried. Why, then, must he be so frequently taunted by remnants of those deeds? Why must he be tormented by reminders of his childhood, of the jealousy and lack of self-worth he was forced to endure? Soren now bore a slight resemblance to their father, which set Kludd off further, as he fought to push Noctus out of his mind ...

He had hoped that the frequent shaming and demeaning of his brother, by him and by others, would be able to distract from these sickly feelings. They did, but for not long at all. Nonetheless, once they reached Kludd's group of friends, he proceeded to march his bound and gagged sibling past each one of them. He made himself to look taller and larger, further creating what he hoped was an image of power, authority, and dominance.

"Behold, everyone!" Kludd said in a mocking tone. "A great Guardian of Ga'hoole. One of the strong and mighty heroes, straight out of those sacred stories."

Snickers ensued from the group. Soren tried not to make eye contact with anyone, lest he expose the humiliation he felt and the lack of energy he had to show any form of defiance. The Pure Ones would do anything from name-calling to throwing pebbles at the helpless Soren, but he tried to maintain his stride without reacting too much.

One even went up to him and knocked him onto his side.

"Rrrmh!" Soren shouted as he fell over.

"You're a traitor to our kind!" the Tyto shouted.

"Nnrgh." Soren scrambled his legs to try and get back on his feet, made difficult without the use of his wings. But the assailant kicked him again, causing more laughter.

It was a great pleasure to witness for Kludd. But why did it never feel like enough?

Another source of his fear, however, stemmed from the second reason Soren would be brought out of his cell.

Several times, Nyra would come over and offer him a private "tour" of this lair of theirs. The purpose of such invitations, as she explained to him, was to further present Soren with the life he could have were he to join their ranks. While most of the Pure One forces were at the Great Tree, a unit remained behind, and Nyra made sure to showcase their synchronized discipline and skill that could be at his every command. She showed off the various weapons they had collected from vanquished foes, but Soren could only mourn for their original fallen owners.

And of course, she would never pass up an opportunity to attempt to seduce him again. Such as now, as she was running her wing up and down his rope-wrapped torso, her beak curled at him with a suggestive twinkle.

"Grnn," Soren grunted as he used his free legs to back away from her. When she persisted forward and lifted up a talon, his spirited eyes scowled, and he lowered himself into a defensive stance.

But much to his surprise, Nyra used that talon to tuck a claw underneath his gag, and pulled. The thick fabric loosened, and while Soren was initially shocked at the gesture, he shook it out of his beak as soon as he was able to properly register the move. As it was left loosely around his neck, the Barn Owl audibly gulped precious air in and out through his freed mouth. He shot his head back and shifted his mouth in all directions, fully taking advantage of this rare chance to breathe fully and work out the stiffness of his slacked beak.

"I simply must know why you still oppose me, boy," Nyra cooed. "Everything an owl could ever want is right here. Waiting for you."

She slid up to him sultrily. "Take it."

Between his gasps for air, Soren responded back, "Only an owl who cares - *heave* *gasp* for himself. An owl who - *heave* - believes only in power, and greed." His eyes narrowed to slits at her, his attractive white face brimming with anger.

"So young, so naive," Nyra chuckled and shook her head as she peered at him. "And yet such naivety is ... oddly charming."

"You're just like Kludd," Soren scolded lowly. "You think compassion is something to look down on, that I'm blind for believing in something more than my own gain." He spoke with bravery and grit, knowing that this evil female would never understand, but wanting to stand up for his own heart. "But it brought me to something greater than you'll ever realize."

Did Nyra think he was as foolish or malleable as his brother? That he could be molded and manipulated against everything he stood for, to a being who only desired the shallow and superficial? Or was she simply so arrogant that she believed she could twist any being to her will with enough time and dedication? What more would it take for her to realize the futility of her offers?

"I am a Guardian. Nothing you say will change that."

Little did either of them know, however, that one of their sessions had been witnessed by just the wrong owl.

When Soren was returned to his cell hollow from his latest tour, he was again required to have his legs tied back up. His gizzard trembled; he always dreaded whenever a restraint was re-applied, not wanting to lose this stability in his stances or the freedom and comfort it provided. But he sighed in defeat past his gag and did as he was told, bringing them together. The feeling was like an old enemy returning, and he always winced whenever each loop was pulled and secured, just as tightly as before. He growled through the cloth as the guard chuckled and left.

The next ten minutes or so were passed in the usual feeling of helplessness that Soren could still not grow used to, but that had numbed to a degree in his capture. He merely shifted, his streamlined, squeezed body giving feeble twists and wiggles. The ropes barely stretched, continuing to dig into his plumage as he tried to gain the smallest amount of comfort in his bonds. As always, he failed. With a week of exhaustion, dire hunger, abuse, helplessness, and almost no answers, the miserable young Tyto could once again only stand there, pained and defeated.

That was, until Kludd suddenly came bursting into the hollow. On his face was a look of greater ire and hatred than Soren had ever seen. He looked bloodthirsty, ready to slaughter Soren right then and there.

But he barely even had time to process it, before his brother's swift, violent claw smashed into his face.The original Guardians of Ga'hoole series was created by Kathryn Lasky. The film Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole and its versions of the characters belong to Warner Bros.As most of you know, the release of this chapter was delayed by the circumstances going on with my parents. While it's been a bit of an adjustment picking up extra tasks around the house, I'm happy to say that nothing has gotten worse at this point, with no further complications coming up for either parent and the road seeming set for slow but steady recoveries. Also, like I said, I already had a draft and even partial revision of this chapter prior to the accident, so all I needed to do was finish the revision and proofread. With the right time management and further reliance on writing as an escape for me lately, and I thankfully managed to keep the delay of this down to just a couple days. :)

Anyway, on to the writing itself. Finally, for those who were waiting for this story to continue, it's happening! This was a very expository part, going over the major highlights of an entire week for these characters. A part of me says that this should be expanded further, but I not only don't want this story to be overlong, but feel that a lot of it could end up just repeating the same beats if I drew it out any further. I think the sense of what everyone's going through is gotten across as much as it needs to as is, even if I would hope that a LOTG sequel following this plot would devote more time to it.

And yeah, as I said, things only get more troubling for our heroes. Sure, they now have a possible way out, but it's not an easy one in the slightest, and as the saying goes, it has to get worse before it gets better. And for those who don't know, this was pretty much what happened in the book, except the siege went on for much longer before the idea of digging even came up. But in turn, I don't recall the dig itself being nearly as draining for them as I portray it here, so I guess it's a trade-off more or less. Plus Struma died in the final fight as opposed to here. I didn't focus on it too much because she's a character we barely know in this fic, but what it signifies is what I hope gets across: how deeply the Pure Ones have hurt the Guardians.

And poor Soren, the victim of the longest captivity I've had for a character yet. Between a brother tormenting him at every turn and a psycho making nonconsentual advances, this is definitely a rough one for him, to say the least. And it doesn't look like it's letting up, with Kludd being angry about what I think you all know. ;)

The next part might still not come as quickly as I want, but hopefully getting back into the groove with this story will help. Though I'll have to make sure it comes out just right, considering a certain move I'm about to make with it ... ;)

Probably three more chapters in total to go. Thank you to everyone who has come back to continue the adventure! It's an honor to garner any interest in something like this, and I hope to see the encouragement continue! :D