Talent’s POV

Cold stone pressed against his skin, chilling his body. Talent opened his eyes. It was dark, but his vision was sharp and he could see clearly. A low hum echoed through the air like the song of some giant insect. It was the sound of the system that blocked his access to magic.

The system consisted of a leach crystal, powered by some hidden array and mana relay, structured so that the moment he tried to use magic, his spell would be drawn into the crystal, which would then continue to drain away his mana until his reserves were so depleted he’s lose consciousness. His mana would be funneled through the array and relay system then turned back on him in the form of violent lightning magic.

Talent had given up trying overwhelm the device, it seemed impossible. The more power he released at once the more he’d be drained and the more pain he would feel. If he tried defending himself it would only result in more pain and a hastening of the inevitable.

He knew from experience.

It was the same every time.

Talent turned away from the bars. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He tried to imagine what he’d be doing if he were at home. He wasn’t sure what time of day it was, or even how many days had passed since he’d been brought here. He figured that he might be sipping a glass of Argris rum, or maybe he’d be watching Mila clean.

He couldn’t hold the thought for long, not with the feel of the cold floor against his skin, the weight of the shackles around his wrists, the stale air rife with the scent of musty water and mildew. The sound of the leach crystal buzzing like an annoying insect; Talent felt as if the thing was constantly watching him, waiting for the moment he would use magic, so it could hurt him again. Of course he knew that wasn’t possible; crystals were vessels that held magic. They weren’t alive. They couldn’t feel or hold desire.

Talent laid on his back. He wondered what happened to his magistrates. Had they been killed or were they taken prisoner like he was? Either way, he was sure that his father must know where he was by now. It was only a matter of time before he’d destroy this ravens nest.

Talent felt a pulse of energy. His eyes opened, but he didn’t see anything. He heard a cell door open then someone stumbled and a grating voice growled, “Better work hard tomorrow, and mind that tongue of yours.”

The door closed with a loud clang and a snap as it locked.

The energy faded and Talent relaxed. He tried to sleep, but the boy in the next cell moaned so much it was impossible to ignore. After a while, the boy settled down. Talent thought maybe he was sleeping, but then the boy started sobbing and muttering to himself.

Talent could make out some of what he was saying, but he didn't really care. The boy talked endlessly about drills and a monster he called el ear. Talent had no idea what any of it meant, nor did he care. He just wanted the boy to shut up so he could rest.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise.

He couldn’t.

The boy cried until he must have passed out, because he finally stopped. Talent thought he was asleep, but then he started tapping on the wall. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Then a pause. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Talent had enough. “Shut up, boy! I am trying to sleep. If you don't stop I will come over there and make you wish you had a friend to cry to instead of making me listen to your pathetic wailing all night. Do you understand, boy?”

The tapping stopped.

Talent was satisfied. He closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.

He woke with a start when something slammed against his cell door. The sound of keys turning and a lock snapping open followed. Talent cursed, clicking his tongue as he sat up. It felt like he hadn’t gotten any sleep.

The cell door swung open with a loud squeal and a pair of shadowy figures stood in the entryway. They wore black hoods and their faces were hidden by masks. He couldn’t make out any more details because of an amorphous black cloud that shrouded them like a shadow.

“On your feet,” one of them said. His voice smooth as silk and quiet, almost like a whisper.

Talent didn't move. He had no reason to cooperate and every reason to resist. They’d taken his crystal, well… his father’s. He’d suffered in this cell at least three days already, without food, and if they expected him to simply cooperate with their requests then they were fools.

The two men entered the cell, reaching for him.

Talent kicked and punched, he even tried to bite them, but it was like fighting two living shadows. Each of their movements was fluid and graceful as if they were dancing, each touch light as a feather and yet still firm enough to overpower Talent easily. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. His muscles ached with the shock of his attempts to escape and his mana would only be sucked away if he tried to cast or reinforce his body. His spirit was broken and his body beaten, he could do nothing but curse as he was dragged from his cell.

They bound his hands and feet with cold metal embedded with small leach crystals. The crystals burned hot on his skin as they began pulling out his mana. His trembled. Talent fought to keep his mind clear as he was dragged through a maze of tunnels and up a long flight of stairs.

The shadow figures brought him up into a brightly lit hall that was somehow as dark as the dungeon below. Pale walls framed the space, their surfaces were blank but appeared like smoke, flowing and yet solid and unmoving. Purple and black balls of flame floated overhead, their light glowing like stars as they cast long shadows across the floor. The firelight seemed to reflect off bits of silver dust mixed into the polished black tile.

The shadow men pushed him forward.

Ahead, a grand door waited, its intricate carvings so lifelike, they seemed to move as he passed. On the right door he saw a depiction of a beautiful woman with long flowing hair and a body as soft as clouds. She was wearing a black dress that shimmered like moonlight. Her hands were clasped at her waist and she gazed forward with eyes like a starry night sky, full of wonder and hope.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Talent glanced over his shoulder and saw the other door had a carving of the same woman, but she wore a dress of white, and her hair was twisted into a knot atop her head. Her hands were held to her sides, her expression stern as she stared forward, her gaze piercing, as if she could see past the wood, through the stone and into his soul.

The shadow men took him into the room.

The chamber was wide, with an expansive domed ceiling, the floor a deep black, so pure and rich that he it almost felt nonexistent. The walls were covered in mirrors that made the room feel endless and empty at the same time.

In the center of the room was a large round table. It was made from a dark red wood and carved with strange symbols Talent didn't recognize. There was a single chair on either side, both of a dark material and intricately carved, or maybe magically shaped, into the form ravens. At one end, a man was already seated, his eyes tracking Talent and his escorts.

The two shadow figures stopped. One pushed Talent forward while the other moved off to the side. They stood like statues, their presence like silent observers to whatever was about to happen.

Talent glanced around the room, trying to discern what he was doing here, but there was nothing to indicate or suggest what was expected of him—nothing beyond the table.

The seated man regarded Talent for several breathless moments before he stood and approached. The man's movements were fluid and graceful. His figure slender and tall, he appeared to be in his early forties, with a strong jaw line, straight nose, and piercing eyes that seemed to change color as he moved. His hair was a rich brown and he had a dark patch of stubble on his chin. He was wearing a white robe with dark embroidery on the sleeves and hem. A black sash was tied around his waist, and he carried a white crystal sword at his side with a handle in the shape of a black raven with its wings spread.

The man stopped in front of Talent, reaching out to grab his chin.

Talent tried to pull away, but the man's grip was too strong and his shackles dug painfully into his wrists as he struggled.

The man tilted Talent's head up, looking into his eyes. His voice was smooth, almost calming, as he asked, “Are you aware of who I am?”

“Are you aware of who I am?” Talent spat back. “Clearly not or you wouldn’t dare touch me.”

The man chortled. His hand still gripping Talent's chin, he leaned in closer, his voice like cold steel as he said, “Talent Kastin, son of Asher the wise fool, and my newest prize.” His words were sharp, and deadly as his sword, as was his gaze, and his very presence.

Talent shivered. The man must have been deluded to be so brazen, even if he believed himself capable of besting Talent's father, he was a fool to think Talent would ever cooperate with him.

The man smiled, releasing Talent's chin. He motioned to the two shadow figures behind Talent.

They approached, each grabbing one of Talent's arms, and pulled him to the table.

The man moved back to his seat, taking a moment to glance at Talent before he sat down. “When I learned you would be visiting my city I was quite shocked that it wasn’t for a personal visit,” he said as he settled into the seat. “But given your lack of diato and fear of death, I suppose it was silly of me to expect you would come willingly.”

Talent frowned. He had no idea what this man was talking about, nor did he care. He just wanted to get back to his cell and sleep. He also hoped to be fed something, but he had little hope that would happen.

As if reading Talent’s mind, the man smirked and gestured to the shadow figures again. They disappeared but returned quickly with two platters stacked high with food. When the platters were placed the man spoke again, his voice calm and clear, his eyes focused on Talent as he said, “Take this meal as my thanks for the other treasure you brought me.”

Talent felt every vein in his body flare with rage as he yelled, “That crystal belongs to—”

“You may be loud, but you are powerless here. You have no magistrates to back you up, no force of will to bend me; you are but a mere child. Behave like a guest you may be treated like one, but if you continue to behave like a petulant brat you will be returned to your cage, and you will not like what happens then. Do we have an understanding, Talent Kastin?”

Talent didn't respond. He didn't want to agree, but he couldn't argue either. He was hungry and tired, and he knew he needed to eat if he wanted to recover enough to fight back.

He reached for a meat and mushroom skewer. His teeth sank in with the haste of a child trying to devour a treat before it’s taken away. He’d swallowed the last bite before his popped with shock at the flavor. It was salty, and sweet with a hint of spice. The soft texture made it easy to chew and each bite seemed to melt in his mouth. Talent was sure there was more to the meal he had missed in his speed. It had been a few days since his last meal, but this was the best thing he could remember eating.

The man smiled as he watched Talent reach for another skewer and bite in eagerly. The man ate as well, taking his time on each bite.

It seemed strange to Talent, but he didn’t dwell on it long. He was far more interested in the meal before him.

The man seemed largely disinterested in his food, but he was rather focused on Talent. He continued to watch Talent eat like he was some sort of creature of great interest; it was unsettling, but Talent did his best to ignore him.

When he finished Talent drank down half of the cup of water provided. He took a breath, then finished the glass. He was fully aware how undignified his behavior had been, however he didn’t care. He was far more interested in the food than playing games with this self-important brute who dared to challenge his father.

The man finished his meal as well, having barely touched the platter. “I have an offer for you Talent, an offer I know you’ll refuse, but I hope you’ll remember as it comes with no expiration.”

He thumbed the end of his fork, apparently waiting for something before continuing. After a moment he leaned back in his chair and regarded Talent with a slight tilt of his head before continuing with a smile, as if amused by what he saw.

Talent simply frowned; he found nothing humorous in his situation and wished this man would get to the point already.The silence had dragged on long enough. Talent gasped, “Well if you aren’t going to tell me, then take me back to my cell, or kill me. Just don’t continue to bore me to death with your games.”

“Very well. As you must know, I have connections all around Aria, some with the other Lords. Of course no one of any note will deal with a mere shadow such as myself, but none the less I happen to know of a lord who might be able to restore your lost might.”

Talent laughed. He couldn't believe that this man had kidnapped him just to make an absurd offer like this. It was beyond absurd, it was preposterous. The man must've been completely insane if he thought there was anyone with enough power to do what even his father could not.

The man chuckled lightly and nodded.

Talent went silent as he thought about how absurd this all was. How had this man discovered that he'd lost his diato? Beyond that, why would he be interested in helping to restore it. One less judge ought to work in his favor, especially if that judge was the heir to Krellestin.

“As I'm sure you understand, I have no reason to trust you.”

“You are correct, though I could say the same of you, it seems neither of us has any reason to trust the other and yet I have been nothing but forthright in my intentions. I know this must seem like a joke or some cruel taunt, but I assure you every word is true.”

Talent scoffed. “As true as words spoken by a devil might be. I have no reason to trust the word of a fool who dares challenge my father with petty threats and abduction of his son. You are weak, cowardly and powerless yet you claim such an offer.” Talent clicked his tongue as he stood. “Return me to my cell please.”

The man didn't move. He glanced up at the shadow men beside Talent and nodded. As they grabbed him and guided him back towards the door, the man said, “Regrettable, but do remember this conversation when next you find yourself defenseless and alone.”

Talent turned just before they passed through the door and said, his voice carrying through the room with a forceful aura of command that only a true judge could wield, “I will not forget and I will not forgive.” The words carried through the air, but they lacked the binding power of a ruling. The threat was empty, but his point was made.

The man smiled as Talent passed through the door and into the hall.

Back in his cell, Talent lay on his back as he stared up at the dark ceiling. His mind drifted to thoughts of food and the man he'd just met. Talent thought it must have been the raven king himself, but the man was known for cowardice and never revealing his face. Why would he do so now? There was no reason to believe that he would and little reason to believe anything that had happened in that room.

He fell asleep thinking about the meal. It was the best thing he'd eaten in years.