When the blindfold was removed, Broken found himself bound to the iron chair, for the third time. Alsi sat across from him, the four guards stood at the four corners of the room, that was all the same.

What was different was that a Great Black Owl sat on the interrogation table, slightly off to the side, so that Alsi’s line of sight to Broken was uninterrupted.

“I suppose you are wondering what the bird is doing here,” said the interrogator. “I will provide the answer, without you having to ask, as I do not think you will. The bird is here for your company, as your file says you enjoy a connection with wildlife, and other such creatures. He is here to open you up a little more, make you looser, make you calmer. He is here to engage you, so that your focus will not drift away. His name is Spear.”

Broken looked at the owl. It was so reminiscent of Claw-Back, and yet so different. Claw-Back had been female. This one was male.

And this one wanted to talk to Broken.

I am called Spear by my captors, said the Great Black Owl, in his language of hoots, but my real name is Talon. I hear you were responsible for bringing Claw-Back a time of freedom, before Makini arrows forever pierced her wings. I too, wish for freedom. If there is anything I can do, so that we can escape together, please tell me.

It was abundantly clear that neither Alsi nor any of the guards in the room knew what Talon had said. Alsi’ face was completely blank. Broken knew the Makini had thought the bird held them loyalty, when he, indeed, did not at all.

Broken briefly considered answering, but then he decided against it. There was nothing he could really tell the bird, nothing that mattered, anyway, and he saw no reason to break his not speaking policy, now.

Talon cocked his head at Broken, confused by a lack of any sort of response.

“As you can see,” said Alsi, completely oblivious to the true goings-on, “two makes for all the merrier. I am now going to discuss with you, Broken, the facts and options.” She paused. “Here are the facts. You are all alone in the world. Your old bird is dead. Ishad is dead. Mai is dead.”

Instead of sadness, however, that last statement brought great joy. Joy, greater than any Broken had expected to feel, ever again.

Alsi had said that Mai was dead, and Broken had reacted with joy.

Why?

Because Broken, among his host of other abilities, could tell to a startling degree if others were telling the truth. And on that last sentence, Alsi had not passed the test. The implication meant something so incredible, Broken, as analytical as he was, could scarcely comprehend it.

If it was a lie that Mai was dead, then the truth was…

Mai lived.

And if she lived, Broken had not failed. He could still save her. He would still save her.

A change began to come over him.

Alsi saw this. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

And Broken responded, as his back straightened, as his head rose to hold high. He responded, and spoke his first words, since his capture.

“Nothing is the matter,” he said. “My God, I have purpose again.”

Alsi, understandably taken aback by his sudden shift in demeanor, looked at Broken, puzzled. “What are you talking about, Broken? Are you going to tell me what your real name is?”

Broken looked at Talon, and responded to the bird’s question about escape, with his own approximated hoots and whistles, so that his message would not be understood by others in the room.

Be patient, he said. I give you my oath that I will free you, sooner than you might think. I only ask that you be ready.

As Talon affected a nod, Alsi became aware that she was rapidly losing control of the situation. “Your bird-talk is pathetic,” she said. “Speak to me as the man you are, not as a lowly animal.”

Broken rose to his feet, standing tall at the forefront of the chair. Though his wrists and ankles were still bound to the ground, he did not let them hamper his strength, suddenly unleashed.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He gave Alsi a look of such force, that even though he was in chains, she recoiled, and pushed her chair back. Then, she stood, but she was by no means ready for what he had to say.

“If I am a man, as you claim,” said Broken, “then why am I bound?”

“You are bound because you must be,” said Alsi. From all directions, the four guards converged on Broken, intending to force him back down into his chair. Broken was not going to let that happen.

“Guards,” he said. “When this conversation is over, I will allow you to take me back to my cell. But as of now, if a single one of you lays a hand on me, he will be dead in short order.”

Broken’s words carried such power, such conviction, that the guards stopped in their tracks. Even bound, Broken’s sudden invigorated presence dominated the room.

He twisted, and looked at each of the guards, in turn, and then back at Alsi. His powerful chest heaved breaths of air.

“What happened?” asked Alsi. “What made you change?”

Broken saw no reason not to tell her. “You just made me aware of the fact that Maiako as Arathou del Tachen is alive.”

“That’s not true,” said Alsi.

“Liar. You saw the report. You tried to hide the truth from me. But in the end, you could not.”

“How could a possibility make you change so strongly?” asked the interrogator.

“Not a possibility,” said Broken. “A certainty.”

“I’ll do you a favor,” said Alsi. “I’ll tell you, give up your dream now. It will only come crashing down later.”

“It may,” admitted Broken, “but in many ways I am made new again. I have a goal: the rescue of Maiako. And I will succeed.”

“How can you rescue a princess?” asked Alsi. “You’re in the most secure prison carrack in the Makini fleet. The Wretched has never had a successful escapee. You should worry about your own fate, before worrying about the fate of another.”

“Do you know me?” asked Broken, simply.

“I read your lengthy file,” responded Alsi. “I know you backwards and forwards.”

“Do you really?” asked Broken. “If you want information about me, it is an impossibility to be content in your knowledge.”

“I know you well enough,” said Alsi. “I know you like to save people. I know you like to be a hero. But those days are over, Broken.”

“I was never a mere hero,” came the response. “You do not know what I am, Alsi as Sarani del Makin.”

“Then tell me. What are you?”

A great aura radiated from Broken. An aura of crushed dreams, simultaneously combined with hope beyond words.

“I am paragon.”

Alsi tried to wrap her head around the unknown, alien word. “Is that your real name?” she asked him.

“No,” said Broken. “Paragon is no more my true name then Broken. Both are words that can be used to describe me, and no more. My true name would bring you great fear, and for that reason, I will not divulge that secret now. I will wait until the time is right.”

“Bring me fear?” laughed Alsi. “You think you can bring me fear? You are a prisoner, Broken. A helpless prisoner.”

“If you really believe that I am helpless, then why do you not condemn me for my insolence?” asked Broken. “Why do you not tell me to prepare myself for hours upon hours of torture? I will tell you why. Because in your heart of hearts, you know I have all but escaped, and you are preempting begging for mercy at my feet.”

“You think too much of yourself.”

“Do I?” The simple words reverberated through the room.

“You…do.” The words were slow, and weak, as if their speaker knew them to be lies.

“Now that I have made up my mind,” said Broken, “this prison cannot hold me. I will escape. I guarantee that.” Dark fire shined in his eyes. The fire of one whose hope had been rekindled, and the fire of one who was not going to let himself lose that hope again.

The guards said nothing. Alsi said nothing. The room was silent.

“I believe we are done here,” said Broken, sitting back in his iron chair. “Take me back to my cell, now.”

The guards, suddenly untranced, leapt to do so at once.

***

Alsi was frightened out of her mind. That had never happened before. That had never happened before. There was something terrifying about a man who had been fallen, and had then decided to fight again.

In her mind’s eye, just as Broken had said, he was already free.

Alsi didn’t know how he could escape. But she didn’t know so many other things as well. In a world where there was great cruelty, injustice, could there also be justice, hope?

Alsi sat on her small bed, in her small, cell like room, waiting for someone to come and shout at her for divulging vital information to a prisoner.

She didn’t know what to think. A part of her hoped Broken would escape, while another part wondered what her fate would be, in that eventuality. Still another part of her didn’t really care.

A knock came on the door, but before Alsi could open it, the person on the other side realized it was unlocked, and walked in.

It was Ezea Radi, captain of the Wretched. The tall, imposing man looked at her. “How many failures can I add to your log?” he asked. “I am running out of pages, bitch.”

Unlike the last conversation, Alsi had no response for him. She had not the slightest idea about how to break Broken, anymore. Indeed, it was almost as if he had broken her.

“What do you want me to say?” asked Alsi. “I failed. I know it.”

“Broken thinks Maiako’s alive now,” said Ezea, “and no matter what the truth is, I doubt you, or anyone else will be able to dissuade him.”

“So, what do you want from me?” asked Alsi.

Ezea laughed.

“You made a mistake,” he said, when the hearty grunts subsided. “We all make mistakes. Your mistake was more important than most, and so your punishment will be unpleasant. You will survive it, though, and continue to work here. And that’s all that matters, in the end. Don’t worry.”

Somehow, Alsi wasn’t able to follow his advice. “What do you intend to do with Broken?” she asked.

“Neither you, nor any other interrogator is coming near him, again. I and the demon agreed on something, for once,” said Ezea. “Eton said that, in his invigorated state, Broken is too dangerous to keep around, anymore, and I happen to agree. The demon said his superiors have cleared things, so that Broken can die, and be tossed to the sea.”

Alsi couldn’t believe that a short death would be the end of Broken’s legacy, but it fit, here.

On the Wretched, dreams died.

“Broken may have been able to figure out that his princess is alive,” said Ezea, “but seeing as Eton’s going to kill him in a few hours, that doesn’t matter much.”