When I came to, I was lying on my back on a hard, cold surface. It was shaking slightly, and there were creaking noises coming from below. I didn’t see much - I seemed to be lying under a blanket or something, that only let through a dim, gray light. I also couldn’t move. The blanket was pressing down on me, heavily.
I tried moving my hands and arms, and realized I was still lying under the net I’d been captured with. That capture - I wondered what the small, unarmed man had done to me. I felt weak and cold, I had a headache, and my stomach was churning.
I tried turning my head, which made me feel dizzy, but also revealed I was lying on a wooden floor of some kind. Just then the floor shook and there was more creaking. It seemed I was lying in a wagon, being taken somewhere. I noticed I still felt a weak warmth in, or on, my belly, but I couldn’t check it. I could just hope it wasn’t a serious wound.
There was nothing else I could do, so I tried to just lie still and hope the nausea would subside.
It seemed to work, or maybe I dozed off. Either way, I started when voices and shouts came from beyond the blanket. It sounded like someone was climbing up into the wagon and walking up beside me.
“Should we put him back to sleep?” a voice said.
“It’ll be much easier,” another voice said, gruffly. “Just do it already.”
Something touched my head through the blanket, and I felt hands groping their way to hold my head in both hands. The hands were cold, but suddenly they went ice-cold. I tried to cry out, but couldn’t, before everything went dark again.
When I woke up again I was still lying on a wooden floor, on my side. I felt woozy as I sat up, and blinked groggily. I wasn’t in the wagon any longer - I was in a room, and in a... cage?
I tried to stand up, but my legs were too wobbly. I sat on the floor instead and tried to figure out what was going on. I was in a room, a fairly large one - rather bare, with wooden walls. In the middle of the room was a large golden cage, and inside that cage - was I. The cage was just like the one I’d seen in the palace in Ambor, I realized, where the king had been imprisoned during the coup. So... was I back in Ambor then? What was going on?
There were windows on the wall behind the cage, but they were covered. I couldn’t see anything that helped me figure out where I was. I got up on my feet and inspected myself. I was wearing my own clothes, and even the sword sheath. My sword was gone - right, I’d dropped it while trying to fend off the man with the cold hands.
My backpack was also gone, but I had my trousers, tunic and leather vest. And my belt, from which the warmth I felt in my belly seemed to be coming from. There was no blood or any sign of a wound, but when I felt around the area I realized the heat was coming from that health amulet Serah and I had sewn into the belt. I’d almost forgotten about it.
I felt around my neck, but the protection amulet was gone. I didn’t remember losing, so maybe my captors had taken it. Whoever they were.
The cage was large enough for me to stand up and walk around in, and it seemed to have a door of sorts on the side facing the door out of the room. I inspected it - it didn’t seem to have a lock. It looked as if it was just pushed shut, but I couldn’t open it no matter how hard I pushed. Probably more magic, I thought.
There wasn’t much for me to do, so I sat down in the middle of the cage to wait for someone to show up. I doubted they would leave me here to starve to death, in such an elaborate prison. It was curious, though - the cage really looked like it was made of gold, but the room didn’t look like a palace room; it looked utilitarian, like it was a store room or something like that.
There were some cupboards and shelves, but nothing else, except for one peculiar thing. It looked like a large wooden disk with some bent metal things attached to it. They looked like clamps.
I didn’t have to wait very long until the door opened and three men came in. I recognized one of them right away, in his blue-and-white battle mage robes: Lecander. I scrambled to my feet and took a ready stance.
Lecander was accompanied by the small man who had attacked me, and another one I didn’t recognize. The battle mage chuckled when he saw my defensive crouch.
“Relax,” he said. “I am not going to attack you. You also will not attack me, from in there.” He nodded towards the cage. “You are not here to fight. You are here to help me.”
I gave him the most sarcastic look I could manage. “Oh, how fine. Let me out of this cage then, and I will help you.”
Lecander chuckled again. “That’s the spirit! Unfortunately I don’t entirely trust you, just yet. So, to lay down some ground rules. You will be in that cage until we can agree to work together. How that happens depends on your attitude. If you are unreasonable about it, I may need to be unreasonable as well.” He pointed towards the round wooden disk.
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“That’s a very unreasonable tool over there. Do you see the metal clamps? If a person is secured onto the wheel with those clamps, the wheel can then be spun without the person falling off. The wheel can be spun for a very long time, and the person on it will not be physically hurt. They will become disoriented and dizzy at first, and perhaps nauseous, and later they will start to become very seriously disoriented and dizzy. I’ve been told it can bring a person to the edge of insanity, spinning slowly round and round for hours." He nodded gravely at me. "I can reassure you, however - do not fear for your sanity. Samel here is a healer and will ensure there is no permanent damage.” The battle mage put his hand on the small man’s shoulder.
“We will give you food and water, and give you a bucket to use. If you cooperate we will let you out very soon. If not, we will try out the wheel, and if that’s not enough, we have other tools. Do you like pain, mister Peter Smith? Many people don’t. Some people also don’t like small dark places, or high open places.” He shrugged. “We will search for a way to communicate our need for your help until it - sinks in.” He smiled, in a very confident way.
“I will not give in to torture,” I told them, and tried to sound more confident than I felt. Lecander shrugged again.
“Torture," he said. “I see it as a means of communicating the seriousness of our need. Your end of the communication is entirely your choice."
I snorted. The guy seemed honest, in a way, but he sure was fond of double talk. “And what is that need,” I said.
“To stop poor deluded Caveria from helping the Elves launch their war against humanity, of course.”
I stared at him. “What?” I said. “That’s...”
“I am not surprised,” he said, cutting me off. “You are new here and it would have been strange if they had told you their real plans.” He smiled at me again, in that superior way, but there was something else in his eyes. Cold calculation, perhaps, or - uncertainty?
“I believe they have told you the tale about the Dragonblade?” he said. I nodded suspiciously. “I believe they have not told you that it’s just a tale. It’s not real. There is not, and was never, any Dragonblade.”
I stared at him and almost laughed at him, but managed to stop myself in time.
“Yeah, right,” I said, shaking my head.
“Yes, it is right,” he insisted. “Have you heard the full tale?”
I didn’t understand what he was talking about. He clearly didn’t know we’d found traces of the sword at Ruula, and I decided he didn’t need to know that, and definitely not from me.
“No, I haven’t,” I told him. Keep him talking, that was the thing. I needed to figure out what the heck was going on. “Please tell me.”
“You likely do not know how the world was created either.” He tut-tutted and shook his head, as if to say kids, these days. Instead he straightened up and held out his arms.
“Once, long ago,” he intoned, “the Gods created the world as a vessel for Their Divine Will. They created the Lesser Beings to express Their will, and gave them various assignments depending on their station. At the top of Their creation, They set the Four Races: Elves, Humans, Dwarves and Merfolk. They were given dominion of one area of the world, and given magic in correspondence with that area. The Four Races were tasked with bringing their four elements into balance, and so enable the Divine Will to manifest in the world.
“The Gods had better things to do than watch over Their creations all the time, and They created the Dragons as Their emissaries and couriers. The dragons were tasked with watching over the lesser beings and for this, they were granted vast powers and given access to all branches of magic. They are as close to gods as anything can get.”
“One day, the Gods decided to test Their creation and see how far it had gotten. They instructed the dragons to create a magical sword that brought together all the dragons’ powers, to see how the lesser beings would handle it. The Gods hoped it would lead to an age of peace, beauty and harmony, as the Four Races came together to channel their different magics into the sword. That didn’t happen. It lead to a great war instead, which only ended when the dragons repossessed the sword and hid it away. It is said that one day, the Dragonblade will be found again, when the Gods decide to test Their creation once more.”
Lecander exhaled and looked at me with a smile. “That is the tale. You have never heard it?”
“No.”
He snorted. “I am not surprised, as I said. “It might have led to uncomfortable questions.” He walked over to the wooden disk and spun it slowly.
“You can ask anyone in Lumaria about this, and they will tell you this tale. The only problem is, it’s not true. It never happened.”
“Okay,” I said and nodded sympathetically.
“It’s a children’s tale,” he went on, “to put children in their place. Be quiet and diligent, children, and play your part in the tale, so that the four races can bring the world into balance.” He chuckled. “We all know how well that's working. Do you know how the world was actually created?” He came up to the cage and looked intently at me.
“No,” I said and took an involuntary step back.
“It was born,” he said, “as all things are, born in - fire!” He threw his arms out and flames shot up from his hands. He laughed at my shocked expression. “There is no need to be afraid. The flames cannot touch you in there.” He turned his palms towards the cage. Flames leapt from his hands and spread across the front of the cage, flowing out over the bars. I cried out and shielded my face from the heat.
“Relax!” he laughed, and let the flames wink out. “The cage blocks magic, even my magic. Like your ugly little amulet does, but better.” He went back to the disk. “I am not interested in hurting you.”
“The world was born in fire,” he says. “Think about it. What does fire do? What does cold do? Which is life, and which is - death? The Elves, Dwarves and Merfolk all have cold magic, magic that snuffs out flame, magic that snuffs out life. The Cold Races would love to bind the fire, to bind us. To bind the world, and lock it into stasis. Harmony.” He almost spat out the last word.
He came up to the cage again. “That is what they are doing. That is what the Elves are doing. That is why they tell the story about the Dragonblade, to trick fools into thinking it would be a beautiful thing to submit.”
I wanted to laugh at him and tell him he was crazy. The problem was - he didn’t seem crazy. He was calm and reasonable. I had expected him to be more... evil.
“I have given you some things to think about,” he said. “I will now leave you to do the thinking. I will be back later, and we will discuss further. Including what I want you to help me with.” He gestured towards the wooden disk. "Do consider the wheel as well. It may help you clarify your thoughts."