The coarse, damp straw mattress was difficult to sleep on. Prickly ends of packed stalk poked out from the linen sheet. They scratched my cheek through the night. I rolled from one side to the other and stared into the dark, misty hallway outside the detention cell.
Lieutenant General Valerie and the others had long since departed. Confused by the results of this evening’s mystical ceremony, they’d retreated to their own rooms to consult various tomes, documents and each other for answers. It appears my vague responses to their enquiries and my protracted trance, had not fully satisfied their conditions.
I brushed a flake of straw from my face and my fingers came away oily and sticky. The blue-haired mage, Thalia was her name, had applied some salves to my various wounds as a gesture of good faith. I had hoped for some elaborate magical spell to cure my ailments, but instead she'd rubbed some sour smelling ointments into my skin that continued to sting hours later.
I wiped some gunk off my fingers onto the flimsy hessian cloth draped over me. It was provided in an attempt to stave off the cold chill that stalked the stronghold hallways. It was ineffective. My body buzzed and twitched in irritation, but I had to admit that some of the splitting, scalding pain from my burns had faded.
I watched gentle purple lamplight flicker across a far wall like candlelight. In my delirious state the rippling shadows cast across the rugged darkstone wall were quite hypnotic.
The roiling fluid encased inside the semi-opaque glass dome of the lantern swept upwards in a towering stream, before bouncing off the surface and drifting down in a wobbling, looping path back to the fiery base. Occasionally a distinctive blot of reddish purple drew the eye, making its own turbulent journey through the living stream.
The longer I stared, the more the lamp revealed to me. New, different shades of purple, cool and warm, swept past the glass in fleeting instances.
My stomach gurgled loudly, interrupting my observations and I suddenly remembered to blink. My eyes regained their clarity, and the lamp was just a plain purple lamp again. I sighed and patted my rumbling belly. A bowl of mushy peas still sat half-eaten behind me.
The wrinkly creep attached to Valerie’s group had burst into a fit of laughter when I was presented with the meal by the serious looking soldier earlier. He himself, had looked faintly apologetic.
Despite my ignorance to the particular circumstances regarding the meal, I dove right into it when I had the chance. I was especially grateful for the glass of water that came with the water. I failed to make much progress with the meal however. It came back up soon after it entered, and I had to settle for a few spoonfuls. That was all that stayed down. I felt it best not to argue with my body's natural reactions post death and subsequent revival. It probably knew better than I, what was best for it.
The low grumbling continued, and I hunched over trying to stifle my stomach’s churning to no avail. The warbling rumble stretched out longer despite my stomach remaining still. Stuttering, the noise shifted and projected outwards through the open space outside my cell, before whistling up and down the narrow stone corridors.
I snapped upright. That was not my stomach. The air hissed angrily. A sibilant whisper rushed across the floor towards me and climbed the explosive pillars that caged me inside. The comforting purple glow affixed to the wall across from my cell shivered. Its gentle ring of light faltered briefly, bowed inwards and then retracted inside its glass case. The bioluminescent contents inside weakly pulsed before disappearing behind a blanket of darkness.
“How did you do it?” grated a cold voice. It manifested from behind me, and I felt a chill on the back of my neck.
I jerked around, clasping my neck, but nothing was there.
“Well? You are no Revenant, are you? We saw. We all saw.” Hissed the voice.
I instinctively reached for my dagger, but felt nothing. It had been taken from me after I had passed outside the stronghold.
“We know you hear us, Shale. Or whoever you really are. Why do you stay silent? We must know.”
Icy sweat trickled down my spine, and vapour trailed from my mouth. I inhaled and exhaled slowly and then whispered to the invisible voice. “I hear you. But I do not know your meaning. How did I do what?”
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The voice grumbled deeply, and I felt a burning hand touch my shoulder. “Don’t play the fool, boy. You insult us! How did you breach the boundary? The boundary between life and death?! How did you escape the Blight’s remorseless grasp?”
Their grip on my shoulder tightened, and I saw my skin sink down. Pink colour suffused the hand print.
I stood up shakily and the hand slipped off me as I rose. I snatched the blanket from the ground, wrapped it around me for warmth and backed up against the stone pillars to face the pitch black interior of my cell. My eyes saw nothing, but beyond the static darkness that masked my vision, I perceived a shallow depression in space. I had no way to trace the origin of this perception, but it lingered in the back of my mind.
“Answer us Returned! Why do you deprive us of hope?” Barked the voice.
“I apologise. I think you may be mistaken.” I whispered to the spectre. “I am not of this land. I came from somewhere else. Somewhere very far away.”
“You did not die on the Day of Desolation? Truly?” Asked the voice.
“I did not.”
A cold, despondent hush rushed past me and whistled through the stone pillars. I swayed gently back with the wind and the edge of my blanket briefly brushed the ancient, incendiary stone. Thick threads disintegrated with a crackle and I tottered forward in shock. A small flame sprouted from the hole and I threw it to the ground and smothered it with my body.
Behind me, the bioluminescent lamp glowed back into existence. Its cool radiance illuminated a small tuft of smoke hanging above my clammy, sweaty self.
Panting, I hugged my scorched blanket in silence, and watched the smoke rise. I had just had a supernatural experience. That was a ghost! I supposed since I’d died and come back myself that wasn’t totally unbelievable or unreasonable, but I still couldn’t stave off the shivers that took hold of me.
They had wanted a secret from me. The secret of life. But to the best of my knowledge, I had nothing to offer them. My own reincarnation was thanks to a god-like being from another plane of dimension. I doubted anything I had to offer would have satisfied them. That particular spectre manifested completely differently to me. It still possessed some link to this mortal plane.
I believe that may have been its problem.
There were many references it made that I did not understand however. The ‘Day of Desolation’ stood apart in my mind. I should inquire about it later. That, and the ‘Blight’ it mentioned.
The icy grip the spectre manifested had lifted and after a last cursory glance at the dark, empty space outside the cell. I rolled back onto my itchy bed and tried to get some decent sleep.
---------------
“What do you make of these pillars Erik? They don’t look particularly tough, but I perceive strong mana from within the stone. Do you think the spaces in between are safe?”
A softly spoken, feminine voice awoke me from my brief sleep. I half opened one eye and noted that the room was still mostly dark. Two silhouettes stood crouched outside my detention cell.
A hoarse male voice responded to the first speaker. “I think they’re enchanted with a repulsive field, Sera. So I wouldn’t expect the gaps to be any less dangerous. Our best bet would be to set up some sort of grounding conduit. But I don’t have any prysamine. Lyra does, but I don’t think she’ll part with it.”
The woman spat back, “What does it matter what she wants Erik. That pandering scarecrow. Let’s just grab it whilst she’s sleeping tomorrow night. If we can’t then, no doubt she’ll be wandering about some derelict tower tomorrow, sucking up some third-rate, exiled mage hack. We will have an opportunity to take some.”
Despite my attempts to remain still, I couldn’t help raise my eyebrows at the pair’s nasty comments.
“Hey Erik, I think he’s awake.” bubbled the woman, ‘Sera’. “Psst. Hey, Mister, get up. We’re here to help you.”
There was no point pretending anymore. I opened my eyes and sat up before the pair..
“Hey there mister,” said Erik. “It's Shale, right? Shale Kadran?”
“That’s right.” I mumbled sleepily.
“We are pleased to make your acquaintance,” the woman spoke softly and bowed her head. “My name is Seraphina Thindred, he’s Erik Willowcrest. We’re both fourth year students at the Royal Academy of Magery.”
Her formality stood out as strange in contrast to her earlier comments. And the setting of our introduction only emphasised the discordance. But I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I gave a reply, albeit clumsily. I was exhausted.
“Ah, yes. Nice to meet both of you, here. What are you doing, here?”
I couldn’t make out the pair’s features. Backlit against the lamplight, they were merely two hazy dark figures. But I could hear the sigh emanate from the woman however.
She leaned next to Erik and mumbled to him, but her words were quite clear. “A talented mage he may be, but he’s not very intelligent is he?”
I gaped at her curt observation, but she fixed back towards me and continued.
“I said, Shale, that we’re here to help you. Myself and Erik are here to break you out of this place. This hellscape!”