The Warduke's Prisoner

Alexi raged. He'd been trapped in this prison for days now, how many he couldn't remember. The taste of freedom was fleeting. In the great tent of the Warduke, he faced his captor. His tormentor. His greatest foe.
"You can't do this! You know what'll happen to them-" His captor barked a laugh from behind that shrouded dread-helm. "-I know you don't care, but what will happen once she's done with them? That many Fated, all at once? She won't be beholden to anyone. She won't need your sword!" That threw his captor off guard, for just a moment. Alexi, out of frustration, anger, dread, upended a table. Scrolls, books, and maps, some mundane, some magical, scattered across the floor.
The Warduke mastered himself again, baleful red glowing eyes dimming to an angered squint. "That was foolish, Alexi. You had a moment, and wasted it." The Warduke enjoyed mocking Alexi. "Have your warrior instincts dulled so much?" "Capturing the wards of Roth and Malthazar was too easy. I will deliver them to Her, and She will reward me. She always has, since the beginning." Alexi raged again, but it was useless. He was so tired.
"You are spent, Alexi. You are my greatest triumph- my greatest weakness. Never before have I felt such power as this." The Warduke flexed the muscles of his body. "When we first met, all those years ago across the sea, in Sorkova- it could've been Roth, you know. But he had Malthazar- and you had nothing." "And now," the Warduke spread his arms wide, the gesture encompassing the great tent and Alexi's prison, "I have you."
Alexi began to despair again- but then he remembered Anastasia's words. His sweet sister. 'Hope is seeing the light, despite all the dark.' It pained him to remember her- what had happened to her. What the Warduke had done to her. He had only to hold out hope. Perhaps there would be a moment. An opportunity.

Dated 02/02/22