Dark and dismal—not a sound but one. I sat motionless, head hung in a stupor as the jingling of keys stopped in front of my cell, and a platter of rotten scraps clattered to my feet.
"Nothing today, huh? That's alright. There's always tomorrow."
Three weeks, I surmised. Three weeks I had been down here rotting, though, in these conditions, it wasn't easy keeping track of time. My best approximation came from the slim glint of light that peered through the crack in the corner of the keep, but I drifted in and out of consciousness enough that I never knew how many days I either missed or counted twice. Beyond that, my only other connection to the outside world came in the form of the warden. Each day he would loudly enter and drop morsels at my and my fellow prisoners' feet. On occasion, he held a particular interest in me, asking how I'd fallen into the council's disfavor. My eyes' gaze never once met his, nor did my hands reach out to beg for the extra food he dangled before them. I wouldn't allow him the pleasure.
"One of these days you'll have something to tell me," he'd say in his low, grating voice. "Maybe not today, but you and I've enough time to make one another's acquaintance. In the meantime, I suggest you grow fond of the hand that keeps you fed."
Fed was, of course, an overstatement. It was nothing short of a miracle that the prisoners clung to life, though miracle certainly didn't seem the right word for it. Contrary to scripture, it was cold and damp in hell's depths, and what little we were given was barely enough to sustain our constant shivering. Of the grub and gruel they threw us, I let most of it pile up. I was ready to get out, and I only knew one way to do it. Fortunately, it couldn't be much longer. My mind slipped further and further; as each day passed, another piece of myself froze and broke away from the whole, and I was running out of pieces.
Still, for a man short of time, I sure had a lot of it. More than I knew how to spend, at least. I wrung my hands day in and day out, lips parted both in sleep and while I endlessly wandered the labyrinth in my head. Thinking was all I could do to busy myself down in the dungeon, and I had the rest of my life to do it.
It was as lonely as it was cold. None shared my cell, no ears to listen to my revelations, and so my conversations had been with only myself. There were other inmates down here, but they were no company, and on the occasion I caught a glimpse, I resented it immediately. They may have still been alive, but they were as good as dead if not worse. Long forgotten, just as I would be, with clothes all but rotten off their bodies to expose the pallor, sun-starved flesh beneath. Why did they cling? What compelled them to eat just to suffer another torturous few days? Whatever the reason, I was glad to be left to myself. Rather than be among scoundrels and thieves, I was comforted by another sort of vermin—a kind I’d always had more in common with. I know they appreciated it too, happily making a meal of the food I thought myself too good for.
Then came a day when the worn iron door would swivel on its hinges, releasing the shrill whine I had since grown accustomed to. This was the second time that afternoon, cause for celebration if ever there was one. Our warden didn’t frequent the facilities lest he had to, so to be here now meant one thing: a lucky soul had served their sentence. After Brooke’s assurance, I had scarce hopes of it ever being me, but I was always happy to watch one of them leave. No matter what these people had done to get here, they’d seen hell enough to pay for it.
l listened for him, tracing his whereabouts in the room. The click of his footsteps came nearer this time than usual, and the clinking keys on his hip didn’t stop until they entered my vicinity. Soon thereafter came the tumbling of lock mechanisms, and the cell door swung open smoothly on its axis. Then the captain’s prolonging hadn’t lasted after all. As always, my head remained in a fixed position, rigid to the obloquy I'd face from him. I didn't show my excitement.
"Have you come to escort me to the gallows?" I asked in a deep monotone. It was long coming, and I feared it no longer, for I'd sooner face a swift end than slowly freeze over.
"Far from it lad," the familiar voice responded; however, it wasn't the warden's. I raised my head and squinted to see the man's outline in the low light, but it was the smell of hard liquor that gave him away. It was the very man that had accompanied me to Crodmill.
"Havlynn? Wh—what are you doing here?" I sputtered. "This isn't your post."
"Why, not expecting guests this early? Must not, the place is a sty! A man of your stature really ought to take some pride."
"Are you here to taunt me? Because I’ve had more than my share."
"Just paying my dues," he said, bending at the knee. His disheveled hair brushed my shoulder as he lifted my arms behind me. I winced. "Oh, pipe down. It won’t take long."
Only then did I notice the sawing motion and the knife he worked against the rope. I was dumbfounded. "What are you thinking? You can't do this. They'll kill you if they find you!"
"Sorry, don't think I can let an honest man like yourself be persecuted," he reasoned as he cut deftly through the woven fibers. "That, and I don't much fancy burnin' to a crisp."
When the ribbons fell from my hands to the floor of the cell, I stared incredulously at my sore wrists, a deep red impression where it’d rubbed and dug into the skin. I hesitated to stand, and my legs likewise refused the first commands issued of them since the day I was brought here.
"Honestly, I expected a bit more excitement from ye—a little grin at least. Instead, you seem downright disappointed. Y'know, if you're keen on staying, you're more than welcome, but these keys weren't easy to come by."
It wasn’t for lack of gratitude, but I didn't understand what he had to gain from helping me, especially after I'd told him off. “But why? You have too much to lose by being here.”
He laughed, a lively expression given the gravity of the situation. "What have I to lose? My life? At best, we've all got a few months before that devil comes lookin' for a feast. Least I can do is seek some atonement seeing as I was at least partially at fault for your bein' here—die with a clear conscience and all that." With a tug, he hoisted me up by the shoulders and set me on weak and aching legs. "But a thank you would suffice. Look alive, Kaiser."
I found his request hard to follow given my grisly shape, likely closer to dead than living, and with nothing left but my pale flesh to digest and give me strength. I steadied myself with his arm, puzzled that my ethereal hand could still grasp it. Until this point, I had still half-suspected my hero to be a figment of a decaying mind.
For the third time that day, I heard the metal squeal of the door, this time followed by a sharp crack from being opened so forcefully. The light from the doorway bounced between the many cells of the keep, his voice close behind. "What the hell are you doing down here? Watchmen of your division are stationed at the eastern wall."
Havlynn recoiled at the sound, letting me to my unsteady legs as he stepped from the cage. "I understand, sir. Just giving this ugly dastard a piece of mind!"
"Save it for the weekend," the warden grunted. "Now get your ass out the door before I have half a mind to tell your commanding officer!"
"Of course, sir. I'll be right on my way."
The warden nodded and turned, taking a few steps toward the door before stopping short. He ran his hand along his waist, a certain rattle gone from stride. "My keys, where are my—" He turned to see Havlynn, whose hands were hidden behind his back. "What the hell do you think you're doing with those? And why is that cell open?!" He boomed, swinging down his spear to block the exit.
"Well, you see, it's easier for me to rough 'em up without this blasted—" The warden would have none of his ruse, rushing us with his pike. "Run!" my savior shouted, brandishing his saber. "I'll occupy him, just get out while you can!"
I'd do no such thing. With these tight corridors and an opponent that sported superior range, he fought a losing battle, and I couldn't in good conscience let a man sacrifice himself for me after the blood I'd drawn. While the two of them engaged in combat, I sprinted in behind, leaping towards the guard and latching onto his polearm.
"Get off of me, you dirty wretch!"
Seizing the opening I had created for him, Havlynn stepped forth with his blade lowered, pressuring the warden to relinquish his partisan lest he succumbed to his thrust. He did as expected, and he was sent toppling to the ground after the short power struggle. Once he regained his footing, he produced a short metal baton—hissing and crackling as electricity began to arc across its short metal spicules. They clashed again, but this time, on contact with Havlynn's blade, the static bridged and jumped to his exposed hand.
"Shit!" he yelped, tossing it to the ground and grabbing his wrist. Unarmed, he was pushed to his heels and forced to retreat to my side.
"Go ahead, lick each other's wounds. You cowering dogs can rot together in eternity." He flashed a venomous sneer as he flourished the electric torch. "This is the end of your inane insurrection."
He stepped closer, but before he could enact his words, a set of fingers crawled from between the bars of the cells, coiling around his ankle and causing him to crook his head. Havlynn didn't miss a beat—he rose with an elbow and struck true. The warden's legs instantly crumpled, and he hit the ground with a cold, hard thunk as his skull collided with stone.
"Yeesh. Well, that's the end of this one. Now, what say we get moving before the rest come lookin' for him?"
I shook my head. "I don't know that I can."
"There you go again, Kaiser. Don't worry about repaying the debt, I owe it to—"
"I mean I don't know that I deserve it. When the Duke refused to believe me, I attacked the guard and fled the scene. I deserve my sentence; it was no fault of yours where I ended up."
He was unfazed, retrieving his blade and inspecting the edge. "That may be, but the Duke forced your hand. He's the real problem, grown much too comfortable on that borrowed throne of his." He turned his attention to the sorry specimen that lay collapsed on the ground. "Besides, these men are no saints. To watch as the city burns is as good as lightin' the fire, far as I'm concerned. Sometimes a little blood saves a lot."
All good points, but the nagging voice didn't stop. "Still you vouch for me? After the things I said to you at the wall?"
"Aye, you were a royal ass, but a loyal one. You were just doing your duty. Now perk up and let's get out of here."
Usually, I hated to admit my mistakes, but just this once I was glad to have been wrong. Both crises averted, I stood and extended him my hand. "Thank you, Havlynn. I still think you shouldn't have come for me, but I'm grateful you did."
He shook my hand vigorously, nearly knocking me off my feet again. "Lynn, just call me Lynn."
Our exchange was interrupted by the low groans of our half-conscious observer. "And what of the Warden? Won't he alert the others of your rebellion?"
"He can sit and spoil for all I care. In three days' time, it won't make a lick of difference."
"How do you mean?" I asked, looking for clarification.
His lip curled, an air of complacency about him. "It seems word of the wyvern has been spread beyond closed doors. As a result, the more paranoid of our ranks are organizing a coup to 'persuade' the aristocrats to take a closer look. So far, they don't suspect a thing of me."
I stifled a smirk, pleased that my arrest had not been as futile as I first thought. "And from here? There's no way in which I can still peacefully reside in Abdera, I'd be sought after and killed by dawn."
"Lucky for you, the guard's numbers are spread thin, so you shouldn't have any trouble passing through the inner gate. As for the outer gate, I'll meet you at the southeast entrance." He shot a chary glance at the door. "But don't linger for long. We only have so much time before this little bird squawks, and I'm not risking my ass twice. Just have your things together before you get to the wall.
I agreed to his terms, shaking his hand again, and with that he made his exit, taking care to shut the door behind him lest someone peer in. I was about to follow suit when I noticed the warden's rousing. When next his head lifted, it was a reversal of the day prior, his hands now tied behind him with the same rope I’d shed. His eyes flickered open, and I knelt to where he could see my face clearly.
"It looks like our time was cut short." He had no response, just a dark, brooding look. "Nothing to say? That never stopped you before."
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“Bite me.”
“I’m quite good, thanks. Full enough on the scraps you threw at me. Maybe if you’d been told the truth, you wouldn’t have treated me like scum. Things might have turned out differently.”
"Who are you to speak against it?" he spat, "I don't give a damn about your report, truth or not. You attacked an innocent man, how could you think yourself undeserving of the consequences, rat!?"
“I take it they never told you what happened? If you knew, would you still bark, or is it in your blood?"
“I know enough. I know the Captain is still soft on you, and that you’d been dead if it were up to any one of us. Go ahead and leave you coward. A kid like you won’t last a day on these streets.”
I paid his remark no mind and brought my face close to his. "Remember when you said I'd have something to tell you? I bet you didn't expect it to be goodbye." The man growled at my antagonizing, but he'd already drained me of sympathy. Before leaving him there, I tore a significant scrap of fabric from his tunic and fashioned myself a cowl. The heavy door slammed shut behind me.
Having long since adjusted to its absence, the unrelenting radiance of the sun blinded me as I reentered its domain. Regardless, my paled skin was thankful for the warmth it provided, and I sucked in mouthfuls of air like it was fresh water. Scanning the area with squinted lids confirmed what Havlynn had told me: no guards were stationed this side of the keep, but as a precautionary measure, I pulled down the makeshift hood.
Funny, I thought as I established my whereabouts. It hadn't been but a few weeks since I walked these grounds freely, and already they looked so different to me. Years would go by and I would lose track of the town's astronomic growth, but never had it felt as foreign as it did now. It was incredible how one's perception could change in so short a time; all it took was one experience, one crack in the glass, and the whole illusion shattered. I now saw things as they truly were. Where once the grand estates of the nobility inspired awe, I saw nothing left in their place but hollow golden shells. The elaborate, multi-story houses and their terracotta rooftops were a cruel joke to those who did their trade here—a reminder that no matter the dirt that caked their fingernails, they'd never finish their climb to the top. A small, unchanging host of prestigious families filled these manors, and they preferred to keep it that way.
Perhaps I was cynical. If any number of people had heard my fortuitous call to arms, then not all was bad in Abdera; Brookes, Havlyyn, and the support he garnered were shining exceptions. However, they were powerless beneath the throne's influence. No matter the honesty of my cause, it was the Duke's decree that painted me red in the public eye, and that eye was unflinching. I was amidst a sea of people keenly aware of my treachery, free of the context that swayed them this way or that. Regardless of what support was rallied in my favor, I'd still be hunted when my cell was found empty.
I came to the first set of gates with bated breath, a gliding glance at the men on duty. This is it, I thought. They’d recognize me instantly. My wilted smile wasn’t near enough to disguise a face that had crossed those boundaries a thousand times. As I feared, the two exchanged looks, and with a wave and tug, the two...parted and let me through. Abdera was worse off than I thought. With their lax defenses and open doors, the walls seemed needless, but I suppose it was the city's image they served to protect.
Whether it was my notoriety I overestimated or the garrison, I was through, and with the greatest threat behind me, I was free to make my final preparations. Before I left, I had to make one last visit to my fitful home to gather the few valuables in my possession. I had scarce furnishings and personal effects owing to my frequent roaming, but the articles I had collected held unmatched sentimental value.
When I arrived at my humble nook, a minuscule hovel wedged between two others, I winced as I reached for the door. I braced for what I might find: furniture half-vandalized, angry notes sprawled across the floor after my name had been dragged through the mud, but I should have known the officials would keep it under wraps. It seemed nothing had changed since my last visit—nothing out of place but the multitude of cobwebs accumulating in the crooks of the floor and ceiling. That, and a thin piece of parchment that now lay on my desk.
I ran my fingers along the familiar red seal, a single elaborate letter stamped into it. The wax peeled away, and I unrolled the letter under the dingy light from my window.
Kaiser,
Where to start, lad. I write this letter from your provisional residence upon finding it empty, no doubt as you complete your missions as an aspiring young knight for the great Abderan metropolis. I hope you've been well since my leave, and given your skill and devotion, I have little doubt, but still, I must sincerely apologize. I had hoped to see you in person, to explain my long years of absence, but alas, my homecoming is brief and my time short.
I do not know when last my shoes walked these dusty streets, but my heart still stings from my sudden departure, as I'm sure yours does. Research takes me further than usual, and for a longer time than I anticipated, but that does not excuse my silence. You were young—as deserving of a parent as any other, that rigid captain of yours notwithstanding. In that regard, I have failed you greatly, but I can rest assured knowing that you are most capable, even without this old man's guidance.
I already have so much to apologize for, so much that should not be forgiven, and yet I must plea that you hold it in your heart to speak with me again when next I return. I cannot say with certainty when the time will come, so do see to it that you stay out of trouble until then. I haven't forgotten your quick temper or sharp tongue, but please save them for my return!
Stay safe, young knight.
Love, Israfel.
I hadn't finished reading when a lump formed in my throat, and the last words began to blur. He was right here. Sitting here waiting, and I was away.
"Dammit," I cursed, the paper crumpling in my fist. "Dammit!" The wood groaned and buckled to repeated blows. "How long were you here?"
It didn’t matter. It wasn’t long enough. I waited for years, wrought with worry every day since he’d left, and I’d missed him. Combined with the knowledge that he may soon return to a still-empty house, I was nothing short of devastated. I dragged my wrist across my eyes and stuffed the note into the pack along with every other item I could fit within it. Trinkets, mostly. My prized knife, gifted by knights to their squire, a comprehensive almanac from Israfel, and a couple of clean tunics to replace the filthy one I'd worn for the last month. Aside from these heirlooms, I had between the threadbare mattress and floorboards a small stash of wealth should I ever need it. I dropped them in, letting them swim loosely with the rest, and with one last pitiful sigh, I surveyed the room, savoring for one more second the musty scent that pervaded all of my earliest memories.
I could still remember the last time. He sat at right at this desk, quill bobbing and scribbling along the page—one more in a great messy clump of them. He shot up and told me he'd be back, the door swinging behind him. I had no reason not to believe him; he always came back. And yet, here I stood, clinging to a memory. I hadn't felt it before, but I felt it then: I wasn't just leaving Abdera, but my livelihood and all of those that encompassed it. All this time, I'd held out hope that all might right itself, and that things could one day be like they used to, but as I stood there, I realized I was being naive.
The old door sighed again, bringing me back to the now cold, empty room. I looked expectantly at the door, unsure if my mind was playing tricks. A massive figure flooded the hovel, a black shadow whose head rose past the top of the doorway. Not the short old man I knew, but another.
"I thought I might find you here." He had swept in like the wind, his great armor astoundingly quiet throughout his heavy stride. His halberd rested lightly against the floor. "So. We've reached an impasse, have we?"
"Go ahead Brookes," I urged him. He’d left me no escape, and I’d lost the spirit to try. "I know what you've been ordered to do. Just be quick."
He looked at me the same way he always did: a face of hardened and polished steel, solid and unflinching. His hammer came down like heavenly wrath, a heavy thunder ready to rapture me away, but it stopped short, coming to rest on my shoulder.
“Go.”
I looked up and found a different man standing there than before. He was slackened. Crestfallen. After Israfel, the captain was my last tie to the jumbled knot that was Abdera. Striving and stoic, I didn’t see a father in him, but he was the next closest I had, and he’d always done well by me.
"I'll tell them you got away from me, but you have to leave, Kaiser. And never come back here."
I was slow to move, lingering in the last familiar place before it too became a distant memory. "How though? How am I supposed to leave all of this? It's all I've known—all I've been left with. How do I rebuild it alone?"
The blade lifted from my arm, replaced with something warmer but no less burdensome. His grip was tight and sobering; perhaps there was a chink in the armor after all. "As all things, our lives may be subject to change, but no matter how new and unfamiliar our surroundings become, you remain the man you are today. Hold strong to your convictions, and they'll guide you better than anyone else can."
"Thank you, captain. For everything."
He dropped his hand and readied himself to leave, glancing out either side of the doorway. "Stay safe out there, son. And don't lose sight."
With a modest bow, he turned, parting the sea of wandering vagrants as he returned to his rounds. I waited a moment to follow, watching until I could no longer see him towering above the rest of the street dwellers.
Back in the sunlit slums, I struggled to blend into a moving crowd. Prideful, gleaming smiles were engraved upon the faces of artisans, men and women alike, whereas I concealed a guilty frown. I remained uncertain of myself—whether I had it in me to persevere—but the captain's words were encouragement enough to keep me moving, and when they faltered, my equine friend would happily take lead. Gaunt and ghastly, it took coaxing for him to recognize his rider, but he was just as I had left him, well-tended and ready to streak from the restrictive stables. Finally, on loaned legs, I was carried to the final gates, whereupon I once again crossed Havlynn.
“Would you look who it is! Can't seem to keep this one away for long," he joked, a quirk I'd just begun to find comfort in.
"What can I say, you make quite the first impression what with the smell that follows you around.”
He smirked and continued on with the matter. "Now, I'm sure you've found your horse to be well taken care of. In its satchel are several days' worth of food and drink I put together for ya. Just don't eat it all at once; I know you've been starved, but it's a long ride no matter where you plan on heading. On that note..."
He brought out and pressed a wide, rolled parchment into my gut. Unsprawled, I found it littered with the names of every town this side of Circadia.
"I'd recommend you try Kelworth. Cold, grey, overcast—should remind you of home if you start feeling sentimental. That map will get you there. If you fancy taking stops, it should help with that too." He paused as though crossing off items from a mental list. "Ah, one more thing. I know it's not much, but it’s all I’ve got."
He produced a knife from his waist, a plain replicate handed to each and every member of the guard. “I don’t know, this may be more than I chew.”
“It should be enough until you grow some new fangs. I trust you can handle it from here then, Kaiser?"
"Let's hope so. You've made it much too easy for me. I really don't have the words to thank you, Havlynn."
"Lynn," he repeated, flashing a wide grin, "And don't sweat it. Spot me that drink and I'll call us even."
"One day, when the occasion deems it favorable, I promise I'll take you up on that. You've my word."
"I'll hold you to it and raise you one: when next your foot touches this soil, this kingdom will have changed for the better. Count on it."
I shook on it, feigning one last parting smile, though truthfully, I'd hoped to never so soon return to this land if I could help it.