I fell into a dreamless sleep and woke up after what felt like an eternity.
Outside, the Sun was shining high, and warm air was in the moldy cell. I heard heavy steps and the clanking of keys approaching, and I steadied myself. At least as much as I could through the mental fog. Soon the same brawny arms pulled me up and took me through the narrow corridor, which smelled of many foul things.
This time, though, the guards were silent, and I felt tension about them.
Soon enough, I was sitting again on the same chair, narrow and cold and with a splinter in my thigh, but without a comforting fire at my side. The room was chilly and shaded. Behind me stood Sofia Dion and Ferchell Maore, wearing their grim expressions. They were palming their weapons again, exchanging a few words of politeness, but said little.
Soon, Captain Dion took the circlet off me, and then put it in a small ornate wooden box edged with dull metal. Immediately the headache flared up, and my eyes burned, but closing them did nothing to ease the pain. After closing the strange box, she handed it to the Lord Commander without saying a word.
The Lord Commander Ardovar Verrier replied with only a grunt and a nod, while not actually looking her way. He was sitting in the far corner, surrounded by a mess of important-looking papers, while fiddling between his short fingers with a mahogany-colored pipe. He quietly breathed in the thin smoke and left it lingering around him after exhaling. And although he had before him many documents of importance, he stared blankly at them; himself lost in thought.
On the other side of the room, a few dozen paces ahead of me, Rian Gallos leaned against a shaded wall. He still had on his dark coat and looked weary and unshaven. Next to him stood a man with a thin smile. He held his arms crossed low against his chest and idly picked on his goatee now and then. They were chatting quietly, and between them had less tension than the rest.
The unfamiliar man was curious about me—stealing glances at me—and Rian explained in hushed voices about the situation in which they found me. And through his unchanging smile, I sensed in his mind not disgust, but rather an interest without judgment; quite unlike the other four.
Then I heard steps approaching in the hallway outside the door. Footsteps echoed for a long time until the double doors opened, and inside entered a lithe man and young woman.
The first was a tall and lean man walking quickly, with a thin and tired face, and the bags under his eyes showing a need to catch up on sleep. He wore an outfit of dark purples and blues, finely crafted and embroidered, with a high-collared coat hanging off his shoulders. With little care and some impatience, he threw the coat on an empty table, smoothing a few loose strands of his deep brown hair, and rushed past me to greet the Lord Commander.
Beside me, Captain Dion and Warden Maore said almost in unison: “Dean Petridies! Good morning!”
“Good to see all of you well,” the dean said with a distant tone, like his thoughts were far off somewhere, thinking of troubles yet to solve. “Rian, Jace, I heard the Rasker case went well. Good to have you back safe and without injuries.”
So the smiling man’s name was Jace.
Dean Petridies then turned to the Lord Commander. “Please excuse my lateness. I’m not always in control of my own time.”
“It’s fine, Philemon,” Ardovar said and bowed to shake his hand. “Thanks for coming.”
And while the two men retreated to the far corner of the room, the woman who entered with Mr. Petridies caught my absolute attention.
She was young and gorgeous, seemed to almost radiate a warmth that I felt comforting. She had long, golden hair that she had in a single braid handing on her left side. But it was her deep green eyes that held my attention captive, and I could not look away. The woman wore a long dark brown coat, buttons opened, with a white shirt underneath, and a long, thin sword handle sticking out from behind her back.
As she entered the room, she immediately noticed Rian and Jace and joined their company. Even though she ignored me entirely, she had captured my attention utterly and I could not think of a single thing except for her. I needed to know what she was talking about with Rian and the smiling Jace.
For a moment, the ever-present pain in my side relieved slightly, and I reached out with my mind to eavesdrop on their conversation. I was certain I could do this safely because Sofia Dion and Ferchell Maore had their focus on the dean and the Lord Commander.
“Nice of you to join us,” said Rian to the woman.
“I came as soon as I read the Russo’s report,” she said in a rather distant tone. She looked around the room, but, it seemed to me, that she purposefully avoided looking my way. While she scanned the walls and curtains and the dark furniture, Rian straightened his back and fiddled with his leather belt. But he dared not look at her for too long. There was a story there, I was sure of it.
“You came because of the creature they mentioned?” Rian asked.
“Yes,” she said casually. “The report says it just suddenly disappeared and nobody could find it, as if it had vanished. I’ve never read anything like it before.”
“Their entire report is strange, that’s true,” said Rian. “Seems like they went insane. At least the Captain saw the creature for a moment, so we know they’re not completely crazy. There’s some credibility to their story.”
“It was their first independent assignment,” said the woman, and shifted her balance between one leg and the other, unable to settle on either. She had this expression on her face like she had smelled something foul. I gently poked at her mental defenses, but could not pierce them in the slightest. It would take a more concentrated effort.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The woman continued: “I think whatever happened in Veneiea broke the Russo’s minds. These cases are always awful, and I fear this was one of the worse ones we’ve had.”
“It seems that every year the cases get worse and worse,” said Jace.
“It dies,” she said. “The Rasker was a dead end again. A damned waste of our time.”
“The perp said nothing?” Rian asked.
“Nothing,” answered Jace. “Only laughed and smeared his blood on his face whenever he could.”
“Oh,” said Rian. “So the usual.”
“The usual…” Jace mumbled back, and turned to the woman. “The Lord Commander is nervous. I’ve never seen him so off balance.”
“I heard him mention Pitties’ name yesterday,” said Rian, looking shyly at the fireplace. And while I could not pierce the defenses of the woman, I could read Rian’s emotions as if he was holding all his gates open and unguarded. He felt a warmth towards her, but it was, as far as I could sense, unanswered. And that cause a bitterness, but that bitterness was mixed up in many other...
“Having Pitties demand for answers can make everyone nervous,” said Jace suddenly, and looked at the woman, but she didn’t reply.
In a swift motion, her eyes suddenly locked onto mine, and she examined my poor, sorry state with a cold and detached mind. It was within her emerald-colored eyes I sensed the same weariness I sensed in Rian when I first saw him, and upon her shoulders she seemed to carry a heavy weight, whether voluntarily or not, I could not tell. But even though her fatigue, she looked agelessly young. She could easily be mistaken for a woman in her mid twenties, if it were not for that tired look in her eyes.
“You look more bothered than usual, Florencia,” said Jace carefully. “If you can excuse my familiarity.”
“I feel…” she said, standing frowning and arms crossed, thumbing at something hidden under her coat against her neck, “strange. Like when an old memory suddenly haunts you and you can’t get it out of your mind. I can’t understand it.”
“It’s probably just the prisoner’s stink,” Rian said crudely. “I can smell his foulness even from back here.”
The woman merely grunted in reply, turned away from me, and looked out the window, brow furrowed and an uneasy look painted on her face. Jace and Rian kept talking, trying to drag her into a conversation, but she did not take.
Her name was Florencia. The thought echoed in my mind, back and forward, but then I aimed my focus behind me where the Lord Commander talked with dean Petridies. Their voices were muted, and otherwise impossible to overhear, but my sixth sense pierced their veil, and I heard the truth they shared. The Captain beside me, her firm hand still resting on my shoulder, was clueless because I was hunched over, and still shivering from cold and pain.
Mr. Petridies was leaning forward and whispered to the Lord Commander.
“I was just in a meeting with Pitties—”
“He’s here?” the Lord Commander interrupted, and a bead of sweat glistened on his forehead.
“Yes,” said the dean. “He demanded answers about Veneiea, and this time without his feigned politeness. He called me into the town hall and all but barked why there’s no report already.”
“That’s unusual of him,” the Lord Commander said. “I’ve never seen him lose his cool. He already commanded me to write a report about Veneiea, but I have nothing to tell him yet.”
“And what about our prisoner?” Petridies asked. “Can he help?”
“Captain Dion brought him here from Veneiea,” Ardovar said. “I interrogated him yesterday, but could not break his mind.”
The dean turned towards me and I felt a freezing pressure around my skin. “Has the royal advisor’s attention lessened your abilities, Ardovar?”
“No,” said Ardovar quickly. “But this brute’s mind is tougher than I’ve ever encountered. I need your help.”
A silence passed as dean Petridies pondered until he finally said: “How long was he muted?”
“Captain Dion kept him muted for over two weeks.”
“And you could not crack him? His mind should be like dough, broken and moldable, but I sense significant resistance there still. How can that be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Quite a burden you have brought upon us, Ardovar,” Philemon Petridies said. “You should’ve killed him in Veneiea, not brought him here. And you should have never told Pitties about him—”
“I told him nothing! He already knew!”
The dean exhaled in annoyance and said: “Predictable. He has his agents all over Lienor. That makes tying up this disaster very messy. If we can’t scrape any information from his mind, I’ll break it. He’ll say whatever we tell him to say.”
“What about the Russo twins?” Ardovar asked.
“I’ll change their memory after I’m done here.”
“Messy… The Russos were promising, though naïve and too trusting,” Ardovar whispered with even more weariness, his voice shaking. “If you break the prisoner’s mind completely, he’ll only survive for a few days. Pitties will ask for even more answers, and the High Council as well.”
“The council only want to know whether they are implicated. They’re not,” said the dean. “But convincing Pitties demands much work. It would’ve been better if the prisoner would’ve been executed. I want Sofia reprimanded.”
“It will be done,” said Ardovar. “She has complicated this matter much more than it needed to be.”
Philemon Petridies nodded along, but then suddenly turned to me.
I disconnected from their discussion as elegantly as I could and retreated into my mind. They seemed to have not noticed my spying.
Quickly the pain in my side pulsed evilly, and a sharp pain behind my eyes burned.
Everything was growing a bit too bright in the room, even though shades were covering most of the windows, and the Sun was now behind a thick cover of clouds. Without a sound, a chair from under the Lord Commander’s desk, the same one with the red velvety padding, shook and gently placed itself down on the floor in front of me.
A tired-looking Philemon Petridies stood in front of me, examined my naked state with a barely concealed seriousness.
He then turned to the entire room and said: “Thank you all for being here as backup, but I’m afraid I have to ask Guardians Gallos and Vialisios to leave the room and hold guard. You must not let anyone disturb us. Warden Maore, I must ask you to go and look over the Russo twins. My apothecaries tell me their state is worsening. I will visit them soon. Please make sure that their room is… clean.”
Rian and Jace bowed and left without protesting, and on his way out, Rian shot a momentary longing glare at the woman with golden hair. She did not pay attention, however, and was staring into the ashy fireplace.
Dean Philemon Petridies then sat down with another tired exhale, and told me without an ounce of compassion: “The less you fight back, the quicker I can end this.”
“I don’t—” I blurted out when Captain Dion hammered a slap with her loose hand. That shook my mind clear of that idea.
“No talking!” she said with a smirk and rested her hand on my shoulder. I wanted to break that hand off.
I understood the situation I was in very clearly. And while I felt strength pulse through my veins, a power I’ve yet to tap into, the damned pain and exhaustion meant I could not defend myself against all of them. I probably could not even walk or stand unaided.
A flash of anger rushed through me! I wanted nothing more than to slap the Captain in revenge, perhaps even shove her face into the marble mantelpiece. That would wipe that grin off her face!
The empty fire beside me flashed for a mere moment, then died down to a smolder of thin smoke without heat.
As suddenly as my anger came, it disappeared. What was I thinking? The outburst surprised me, but also gave me a clear focus that wasn’t there before. It was, perhaps, enough of it to withstand the dean’s interrogation in my mind.
Philemon Petridies settled himself in the chair, rolled up his sleeves, and focused his attention on me. He raised his arms, spread his long and thin fingers, and his eyes fell dull and dark and I found myself back in the deep void of the dark.
But I would not yield to them, and in the distance I heard a strained voice grunt.