The first chance Ander got as soon as he and Sir Argvald left the treasure room he made a break for it. He dashed down a hallway for several seconds, believing he got away. But the moment he tried to launch himself off of a high balcony, something wrapped around his leg and pulled him back. Ander panicked for a moment, as there were several spiders that hunted in such a way. But it turned out to be a length of heavy iron chain dusted with red rust, and not a strand of spider silk. It led back to the stoic Sir Argvald, who stood there with the chain in his hand. With negligible ease he snapped a wave into the length of chain which slammed Ander against the ground, stunning him. Before he could get his bearings, Sir Argvald was picking him up and setting him on his feet.
Ander tried another three times to get free of Sir Argvald. None of them worked. Soul of the deep couldn’t even make him flinch, and the illusions of Aquilo’s Whisper were immediately ignored. Oddly enough, the one ability that had the greatest success was Aeolian Vitality. When he sent a healing wave into Sir Argvald, it caused the man to lock up from the flood of sensation. Ander managed to escape for a whole minute before a very annoyed Sir Argvald tracked him down and wrapped him in lengths of chain.
There were no more attempts after that.
Ander crossed the fields outside the town with his arms bound to his side by heavy chains. The weight wasn’t a problem. Normally the humiliation of being dragged in like this might have gotten to Ander, if it weren’t for the panic steadily building in his chest. He tried to play it cool, but the iron smell of the chains was getting pungent as his sweat soaked through his clothes. Disgusted, Sir Argvald took him to a bathhouse and paid for Ander to get cleaned up. When Ander was done, he could still see the panic in Ander’s eyes.
“Calm down, even if you get drafted, it won’t be until you leave here.” Sir Argvald said.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Ander bit back. “I don’t understand how you can be so noble so honourable yet still not understand why I don’t want to go in there.”
“Then explain it. Again.” Sir Argvald glared at Ander, who met the glare with one of his own.
“The moment I get close enough, I will lose all of my free will, and become an instant mind slave to the high lord.” Ander was starting to get worked up. “Worse, he has that ass Sir Mattheos with him, which means that I will probably get thrown into war hell soon thereafter. I don’t care if High Lord Torden has the best intentions in the world. Him being here takes away any options I might have tried to fight to get.” Ander finished with a shout, only six inches from Sir Argvald.
“First, you are completely wrong, on so many accounts. But if this is so much a problem for you, then just resist.” Sir Argvald said.
“Just resist.” Ander said flatly.
“Yes.” Sir Argvald said. “You might be counting on your illusion skill to provide mental defence, but it won’t work. It won’t ever work. All you can do is resist.” The two stared at each other for a moment, before Ander deflated.
“I suppose I will give it a try.” Ander said with a forlorn note to his voice.
“By the Creator’s holy name.” Sir Argvald swore. “Where is all that anger you had two seconds ago. Did it all run out already?”
“Why do you care?” Ander said. “You have made it abundantly clear you do not like me.”
“How do I forget how useless new hatchlings are?” Sir Argvald asked the ceiling. “It's my job, Ander. And you were acting so pathetic that I thought that maybe I might help you out a bit. Don’t bite an extended hand.” With that Sir Argvald stood and beckoned Ander along. As they made the final approach to the main administration building, Ander resolved to try.
He felt the High Lord’s aura as soon as they entered the main square, and every step felt like a death march.
Congratulations! Skill: Aquilo’s Whisper has Levelled Up!
Skill: Aquilo’s Whisper is now level 8.
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Congratulations! Skill: Aquilo’s Whisper has Levelled Up!
Skill: Aquilo’s Whisper is now level 9.
Congratulations! Skill: Aquilo’s Whisper has Levelled Up!
Skill: Aquilo’s Whisper is now level 10.
Ander fought the aura with everything he had, and managed to force the creeping feelings of adoration back as they entered the administration building. It was a constant strain, and aside from those last few, Aquilo’s whisper wasn’t gaining any more levels. Ander was led to a door he had never been through, and when it opened, Sir Arvald spoke in a loud voice.
“Lord Father, I have come with Ander Nightshade as you requested. May we enter?”
“Please do, Sir Argvald.” The deep sonorous voice sent ripples through Ander’s mental defence, nearly making it drop before Ander stabilised it.
You have trained!
+1 to Wisdom
+1? Ander needed a hell of a lot more than +1 to get anywhere. It was a moment before he realised he was being led forward in front of the High Lord.
“Kneel.” The words rocked Ander to his core, and only by sheer force of will did he manage to stay on his feet. If the answer was to resist, he would resist.
When Ander collected his bearings, he saw that Sir Argvald had knelt, as well as a few servants and guards. But there was quite an array of different expressions on everyone’s faces. The guards and servants were horrified, Sir Argvald seemed faintly disgusted, whatever that was about. But the one that was the most odd was High Lord Torden. He sat forward in his seat, looking at Ander with intense interest. Ander felt a thrill go through his body as he thought he had won for a sweet moment.
“Kneel.” The word had a completely different tone to it this time, and Ander knew that it was completely unavoidable. It felt like a knife was at his throat, or rather, at his mind. A spike of mental energy sat poised above a glistening mental dome around his mind. Ander had never perceived it before, this layer of defence around his mind. But now he could see it would provide no defence at all. It was hard, brittle, and the attack would demolish it, and his tender mind beneath. Ander held as the spike of energy pressed forward and touched the dome. Intense pain flooded Ander’s mind, and horror followed quickly thereafter. The High Lord was going to kill him for not obeying his order. The spike bore down harder and Ander’s knees hit the floor with the crack of breaking bone. His regeneration was on it as soon as he got the injury.
He hadn’t broken anything real important, it was just a crack in his kneecap. While it hurt to no end, it was nothing like the pain of that spike as it pressed against his mind. Ander shivered as he lay on the floor next to sir Argvald. When had he fallen?
“Is he ok?” Ander heard a worried voice, the voice of the High Lord, speak.
“He will be fine. He has a regeneration skill.” Sir Argvald said.
“Oh. Very well then.” Disinterest dripped from the High Lord’s voice as he sat back in his chair. A throne, though Ander had been too preoccupied to notice before. Ander glared up at the High Lord as he got to his knees, but he got no reaction. How could Sir Argvald serve this sadist and hate him so much?
“Rise, Ander, Sir Argvald.” The High Lord said. They did. “I have made a point to meet with all of my most promising children. I was disappointed to hear that you had run away rather than meet me.”
“Sorry, Lord.” Ander said, staring at the ground before his feet.
“Oh please, look me in the eye.” Ander did so, though with some difficulty. “Why are you so afraid?” Annoyance and exasperation filled ander at being asked yet again something that seemed so obvious to him.
“Lord Father,” Sir Argvald interjected. “Ander here seems to greatly value his autonomy. While I do not understand this level of desire for independence, it does seem quite important to him.” The High Lord nodded and turned back to Ander.
“I cannot necessarily promise you your freedom, though I would if it were mine to give. Options are a commodity in short supply I am afraid.” The High Lord sighed, and sat back in his chair. “I am in the habit of giving gifts to my more promising children. I had intended to give you a spatial bag, but Sir Argvald has informed me that you have procured a spatial tool of better make. I was at a loss as to what to give you, but our conversation has given me an idea.” He leaned over to a servant who had been standing ready behind him. They conversed quietly for but a moment before the servant rushed off.
“I recently came into possession of an artefact made by Gadreel, servant of the Creator.” The high lord explained. “It’s function is vague, but if it does what I believe, then it may be of use to you.” The servant came back with a ring of metal which the High Lord took. The High Lord then stood and walked to Ander. He loomed over Ander, and then placed the silver ring on Ander’s head. It was a circlet, and the monet it laid on Ander’s head he felt a shield come into place around his mind, far more powerful than any layer of defence that he had at his disposal.
“But, why?” Ander said with confusion. “This seems like a powerful tool, why not keep it?”
“My mental defences are already far stronger than what that thing can provide. Besides, mental defence is not its main function.” Ander’s heart sank as he realised what was going on. The mental defence the circlet was providing was also corroding his natural mental shield. Ander snatched the circlet off his head, but the effect was still in place. And the next moment, the circlet was no longer in his hands, but rather on his head. Ander still didn’t dare speak to the High Lord, but he looked up at his supposed father in despair.
“You will understand in time.” The High Lord said. “You can’t make anything powerful without even a little pain. You are dismissed. I look forward to seeing you fight in a week's time.” And with that, Ander was ushered out of the room.