Valerie proceeded through the dim, still hallway. As she stepped, small tufts of grey mist bubbled around her feet. It was as if she were walking across a lake; the bobbing purple lantern she carried cast ephemeral shadows across its turbulent surface.
Valerie exhaled a vaporous breath and stared stiffly into the passage before her. Soft light peeked out from the end of the hallway. The prison awaited her. Valerie turned her lamplight down to its lowest setting and entered the room.
She inhaled abruptly at the sight of Shale Kadran. He sat upright in his cell, his legs crossed and arms neatly folded in his lap. His eyes were closed. His face, a perfect image of concentration.
Quietly, Valerie approached the man, taking care to smoothly shift her feet, from heel to toe in an effort not to make her presence known. Nine stone pillars stood between them. The damaged pillar in the centre drew Valerie’s eye as she crept forward. Almost two thirds of its core had been blown out, and the remaining stone appeared unstable and unreliable.
The repulsion field would remain in place should the pillar fall, Thalia had assured Valerie of that. There were still several others standing intact, after all. But the repulsive effect of the barrier itself had fallen by ten percent. And although Shale had suffered as a result of his initial blow against the field, the impact was not as effective or threatening as it should have been. Should he attempt to escape, the field may blow him apart in the process, but there was a small chance, provided he was given enough motivation, that he may break free from the barrier.
Though it would pain her to do so when resources are so sparse, she may have to assign an additional guard to secure the detention area. Valerie stood still before the prison, turned and stared into the darkest corner of the room - positioned across from the cell, and beside the passage leading out from the room. Though she did not see her, Valerie nodded to the invisible presence of Sular, the Bastion’s resident Servant of Nyhil, or as she was known to the conscripts - Grey, the mysterious Volatile Matter collector.
A flash of silver glinted from the shadows for a few seconds. Did she require her services? It was Sular’s own way of asking. Valerie raised her open palm, indicating no, she did not.
Valerie turned back to Shale and ignored the prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Nothing good came of dwelling on Sular. There were more important things at hand.
She set down the lamp beside her and took a seat before Shale’s cage. He made no movement, no indication that was even aware that she was present. His eyes however, were highly active. They moved rapidly beneath his closed eyelids.
Valerie frowned, and took in the young man’s face. She had seen him before of course, she was familiar with everyone still alive on the stronghold grounds. But she had never before interacted with him for long. The only exception had been their first meeting.
Valerie thought back to that day. It had been her first full day at the Bastion - after she had moved into her room, and her retainers had found their respective places. She recalled her predecessor’s severe redolency and disorganisation. They had not retained any files, documents or paperwork during their tenure, leaving Valerie to create her own archival system.
Sir Sebastian had proved to be no help either. His inadequacy was an enduring consistency she could count on.
Valerie’s first order of priority had been an assessment of her entire garrison. She called for all veteran and aberrant conscripts, and all mercenaries for inspection, instruction and reassignment right away. Roughly thirty men and women lined up before her in the courtyard that day. There were those that proved to be wholly unsuitable of course, those with unpredictable tendencies and poor mental states. But a few promising and loyal individuals were tested for something more. They were given additional tasks, commitments and responsibilities over others, and some eventually proved to be valuable members of the garrison.
Young Shale Kadran had not made such a positive first impression. A thin wisp of a boy, he kept the back of the group, scarcely spoke, exerted little effort and failed to demonstrate anything of value.
His lustrous metal arms had drawn the eye, even back then. Valerie remembered speaking to him about them. But the boy had been unresponsive, and far from forthcoming. Nevertheless, Valerie had him carry out a series of physical tests regardless. All the aberrants did. He had to have survived over fifteen years for some reason, and she had heard his parents had passed before he was little more than a child.
The young Shale’s cries of pain and exertion had tested her intuition. Following some simple durability and strength tests, Captain Siddal had attempted to bring forth some passion, spirit and talent from the boy. With cold, experienced precision, Siddal quickly dismantled Shale Kadran. The Blight-born’s arms had bled that day, despite the fledgling metal plating his skin.
Valerie let him walk following his poor performance. To return to the Blight-burners with the other doomed conscripts. He had failed to obey Siddal’s instructions and basic lessons, and proved to be a poor warrior.
Despite that, Valerie still possessed the memory of blunted blades and shattered rock left behind that day, despite Shale’s restrained efforts. He had possessed some unique power, but his reluctance and dishonesty rendered him untrustworthy regardless.
Today, Shale Kadran was scarcely recognisable. His shrewd reclusivity and childish features were gone. The metal covering his body was thicker, stronger. The swirling patterns of turbulent metal sweeping his skin were denser, more detailed than before. His face, beneath the burns and salves, was distant and resolute.
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He maintained a detached aspect, as though was not really present before Valerie. His eyes continued to roam behind his closed eyes. The rate at which his eyelids pulsed set Valerie on edge.
Shale’s arm twitched. His breathing slowed and grew quiet. Valerie leaned forward, she could scarcely hear any air pass through his nose. She sat up taller on her knees as Shale slowly lifted his hand up before her and his palm stretched out toward her chest.
A blue spark of light discharged from his arm. Valerie tensed. She fixed her eyes on the man’s solemn, bleeding face. More sparks fizzled along his metal skin and the room grew brighter, hotter.
Valerie sensed Sular creep forward, out from the darkness and she warned her back with an open hand, as she reached down with the other, and rested it upon her sheathed dagger. The searing light grew hotter as more arcing blue serpents of light swam down Shale’s arm. The blue colour darkened and flushed with vibrant orange before coalescing into a deep violet wave that trembled across the man’s palm.
Valerie blinked away a few tears, gritted her teeth and as she waved away a disgruntled Sular, she barked out, “Stop that right now, Shale.”
Shale’s neck grew taut, the light flickered, warbled and broke apart into the air.
“Do not discharge that energy here, in this room. The consequences may be fatal,” Valerie warned, her dagger now unsheathed, and pointed toward the base of the broken pillar before her. Aligned above the invisible runes that fed power into the repulsion field.
Shale opened his eyes, dropped his arm and stared at Valerie in disbelief. She returned her blade to its sheath with a well practised spin and peeked over her shoulder, confirming Sular had indeed made her presence scarce once more. Good.
Valerie returned her gaze to Shale, and cringed a little at his face. He no longer appeared calm and solemn. Now that Shale was conscious, his swollen, peeling face appeared uncomfortably stretched across his skull in a state of agitation.
He cleared his throat with a painful rasp and croaked out, “Good evening General Valerie”.
He shuffled onto his knees and nodded, but she noted a slight tinge of bemusement in his tone. As though he’d never addressed her before. Either being an amnesiac, or a revenant puppet, she supposed he hadn’t.
“Good evening Kadran. Although I’m flattered, you may address me with the proper title, Lieutenant General. There may still be some time until you can call me General.”
“I see.” Shale said, furrowing his singed eyebrows. It appeared that he did not, however, see.
“How are your wounds? Are the salves Thalia applied providing any relief?”
Shale choked out a hoarse chuckle. “Yes, thank you. It no longer feels like I have fire ants crawling beneath my skin - or what’s left of it anyway.”
“Fire ants? I have never heard of fire ants.”
Shale’s arm slipped out from beneath his chin and he lurched forward in surprise. He groaned in pain and shuffled off his knees to sit cross legged.
“Oh, you wouldn’t have.” He stammered. “They’re these little bugs - six legs, little pincers and they burn like fire if they bite you. They’re from a story. A fable my mother told me when I was little.”
Alarm bells went off in Valerie’s head. When he was little?
“Oh? Are memories beginning to you already resurface? Well, that is excellent news.”
Shale’s eyes grew wide. Wider than she’d ever seen on any man before, it was really quite impressive, and a little disturbing, as the capillaries on his eyeballs were badly broken and inflamed.
He began to open his mouth, but Valerie cut him off. “We will talk about that later. First, I must have your word that you will never attempt whatever it was that you were trying earlier. I will not have you damaging my stronghold any more, nor will you endanger my people. That includes yourself!”
“Of course!” Blurted Shale. “I mean, I will try. To be honest, I don’t know what I was doing. You see, I was attempting to control my outbursts - my electric shocks I mean.”
“Electric? Do you refer to the conjured lightning surrounding your arm, and the conjured fire you used to cripple the Greybone Stalker?”
He raised a single burnt brow, thought for a moment and then nodded.
“Yes, the lightning. I had very little control over it. During my conflict with the creature, it was pure luck that it fired when it did. I truly had no clue what I was doing.”
Valerie smirked. “Of course, luck. I suppose you just happened to lure the Stalker beneath the rock formation at the end of Cracked Hill, and bring down the boulder atop the beast to crush its adamantine back with a torrent of flame the likes of which my Head Mage had never seen before? Yes, you really are very lucky, aren’t you Kadran?”
He baulked. “Yes. I really was.”
“Well, I’m glad we’ve got that sorted.” Valerie said, her voice aflush with sarcasm. She sighed, and met Shale’s exasperated stare.
“Let us discuss your mystery talents another time. I did not come here to interrogate you Shale Kadran. I came here to present you with an offer.” Shale narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.
“It is not a pleasant offer. Far from it, but it is the best I can do for the moment, because frankly, I do not trust you, and it will take far too long for that trust to be built. Right now, I need a capable warrior and mage like yourself. Now-” Valerie stopped and glared at Shale.
His eyes had drifted down from her face and were fixed on her thick, woolly pyjamas.
“Pay attention Kadran!” Hissed Valerie.
Shale rocked back in surprise and then muttered, “Sorry, I was surprised. I did not think I would see you in pyjamas.”
Valerie huffed and whispered back, “That hardly matters. I was in a hurry - I felt it important to speak with you personally, whilst I had the time. Besides, what else would I be wearing in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, of course. I apologise. You mentioned an offer?”
Valerie grimaced. “I did. You may stay put and decline my offer. Here, you will be prodded, poked and sifted through by my mages until I am satisfied you are truly who you say you are - which may take as long as three months, I am reliably informed. I do not favour that option. But there is an alternative that allows for your immediate release… But it poses greater danger to both you, and myself.”
Shale frowned, “Danger? To both of us?”
“Yes, the stronghold's future looks bleak. You are needed - as are around one hundred royal peacekeepers - but that’s beside the point. What’s important is that I am willing to enter a life-blood contract with you."
Shale looked quizzically at Valerie, unfamiliar with the term.
"A life-blood contract is a mortal pact my family has practised for over a hundred generations that ensures complete loyalty,” Valerie swallowed, “or death.”
“Oh.” Shale paled, as best he could behind his oily, blood caked face. “I see.”