Marcus heard footsteps against the stone staircase beyond the corridor and figured it must be time for someone to bring him food. He let out a deep sigh and tried again to speak to the dragons in his mind.
“Please help me. I’ll do anything,” he said.
But still, there was no response. He had tried for days to contact the dragons, but they’d eluded him. He hadn’t been able to free himself from his cell, and the dragons seemed to be displeased by this. Marcus didn’t know how he was supposed to escape this place.
The metal bars surrounding his cage were unmovable, the rock below his feet hard, and the distance away from anyone who wanted to help him was too far. He needed the dragons’ help if he was going to free himself. They’d promised him as much the first time they’d spoken to him in the dungeons. Said they’d help him somehow. But now when he asked, they rarely spoke back and when they did, they just kept repeating the two same phrases; Come to us and Surrender.
What was he supposed to do with that? He’d already told them he’d do anything. That he’d surrender to them. He promised often that as soon as he was free of this place, he’d come to anywhere they wanted. But all this didn’t seem to be enough.
Marcus had racked his brain for more, but he just didn’t know what else he could do. During the recent days, he had become hopeless again.
The footsteps continued sounding like a thunderstorm coming for him. Marcus jerked his head up suddenly at the sound of another pair of footsteps walking down the stairs. There was a sound, like someone shouting, but Marcus couldn’t distinguish the words. The first pair of footsteps stopped just outside the door to the prison.
Marcus’ breath caught in his lungs. He wondered what was happening now. Did he have another visitor?
The second person walked down the corridor and joined up with the person standing just outside the door. Marcus lowered his gaze and hung his head between his knees. He knew the blinding light that would soon ensue when they opened the door.
Keys twisted in the lock and then the door swung open, bathing Marcus’ cell in light. He watched the yellow glow dance over the floor and reach his feet, making them look paler than before. Blue veins and translucent skin stared at him and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see what he’d become.
“I just don’t see what we’re supposed to do here anymore.”
“Well, you’re not helping. I said we could continue this conversation later. I didn’t mean ‘follow me down to the dungeons’, so that I have to stay here longer. Does this look like a nice place to have a discussion?”
From the voices, Marcus discerned that it was two of the guards that usually came down here to feed him. They weren’t among the worst of the guards. They’d never thrown insults at him or tried to make crude jokes. But usually they didn’t come down here together. Something strange was happening.
“Well, yes, it’s private. Why not?”
It was quiet for a beat and Marcus wondered if they’d noticed him now and realized this place wasn't private at all. His hearing had improved by the constant silence, and he heard the two guards like they were shouting every single word into his ear.
“If we leave now for the valley before things become worse. We might have a chance at survival. What if we stay and things get worse?”
“But if we leave, haven’t we made things worse? You heard the governor. If people leave now, who will protect the valley? Who will keep the beasts and shadows at bay?”
The other guard huffed. “I just don’t see why that is our problem. Someone else will keep them away. We’ve served here for long enough. I don’t want to be a guard anymore. I just want some peace and quiet. Aldrion will stand. It has always stood against the void. Long before you and I even existed. It doesn’t need us.”
“Yes, it does. This place, our home, it needs us, Craig. If we flee into the valley, we’re deserting our home and we’re turning our backs on the people here. Aldrion will fall and there will be nothing holding the beasts back from getting into the valley.”
Craig didn’t answer, and curiosity forced Marcus to look up. His eyes were narrow slits, but still the light stung at the edges. He could make out the two men, standing only two steps away from each other. One was holding a tray with Marcus’ food and the other dragged a hand through his hair.
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The tray got placed by Marcus’ cell door, just close enough so he could reach it between the bars. “I’m staying in Aldrion. I will fight the void until my dying breath and I will trust the governor with my life. It’s who I am. If you wish to leave, to run away into the valley. Then fine, that’s your decision. But you’re going alone.”
The guard named Craig stopped pacing and stared at the other man. His gaze was hard, but the man closest to Marcus lifted his chin in a defiant gesture. He was not backing down.
Marcus’ hands fell to his sides, and he watched them as his eyes got used to the dim light. He wondered for a moment if they would continue arguing or if this was it. Then a voice slithered from the back of his skull into his ears, filling him with hope.
“Surrender,” they said.
A shiver ran through Marcus’ body and he leaned into the strange sensation of a worm inside his brain. It was uncomfortable at first, like he wanted to jump to his feet and scream from the top of his lungs; Get it out!
But the more he leaned into it, the more the sensation grew comfortable. It felt like something wriggling around in there between his ears. But by now he’d heard the dragons speaking to him so many times that he trusted the voice. If it told him to surrender, he would.
Marcus dragged in a long breath and his eyelids fell closed. Darkness enveloped him, and the rock he was sitting on suddenly felt loose. Like it was shifting underneath his muscles, breaking apart into sand. His arms loosened, and he felt his eyelids open. This time, he saw that the two guards were looking at him with wide, beady eyes.
One of them took a step back toward the door, his mouth opening like he was trying to catch a fly. The other guard, named Craig, walked forward, toward Marcus and clasped his sword tight with one hand.
Marcus’ eyes looked different, he thought. They had a dark tinge to the sides, like they weren’t completely clear anymore. He got an instinct to rub away the dark gunk from his eyes, but when he tried to lift his hands, nothing happened. They weren’t responding to his commands anymore. Marcus tried to open his mouth to scream, panic hitting him hard in the chest, but his mouth was closed into a tight slit. Not even a single sound pierced through his closed lips.
Marcus’ body stood up with effort, making the kind of movements that he could best describe as a ragdoll’s. His form glided toward the bars and his feet didn’t even seem to move. Then his hand reached out toward the bars and Marcus felt his own eyes widen.
His hand was a texture of black smoke and it traveled right through the metal bars marking the edge of his cell. Marcus was beyond panic now, crossing into something completely different. A world of disbelief. He was sure this couldn’t be possible. He wasn’t a shadow and this must be some out-of-body experience or a dream inside someone else's body.
Craig unsheathed his sword and aimed it at Marcus. His stance widened and his shoulders squared. His eyes were still wide, but his expression was resolute. This time it was Craig who wasn’t backing down.
Marcus’ shadowy form found a blade made of black smoke from somewhere inside, and the force who had control of his body swung it at the guard. Craig sidestepped and swung his own blade at Marcus. The blade closed in on Marcus’ chest, but right when the iron was supposed to hit him, the blade slipped through him like a knife through warm butter.
The smokey blade sliced a gash through Craig’s arm, and he cried out in pain. Red blood pooled on the ground and soaked the dark gray rock. The blade swung again when Craig was still recovering. It sliced through his neck like it was made of water.
Marcus regained control of his body for a moment, feeling the weight of the smoky sword in his hands. He lifted it up toward his face, seeing Craig’s blood run down the length of the blade. Marcus took a step back, feeling his leg move and his foot actually hitting the floor. He regained some solidity and the realization that he was still in his own body hit him full force.
Marcus felt nausea climbing up his throat, and he fought the sticky sensation. He stood, clasping the sword in both hands and swallowing hard to keep from being sick. Then the sound of a man whimpering cut through his internal storm and Marcus’ dark tinged eyes cut to the other guard. The one whose name he didn’t know.
He hadn’t run away from here. He’d stayed and watched his friend die. Marcus felt angry at his stupidity. He should have gotten away. He could have gotten away.
“Run,” Marcus croaked.
The solid rock beneath his feet shifted and the sensation of standing upon dunes of sand came back to him. His hands didn’t want to command his orders anymore, and Marcus was helpless against the force that was taking control of his body once more.
The guard turned to run out the door, but it was too late. Marcus had surrendered and he couldn’t take it back. The smokey sword in his hands moved and pierced the guard in the back. He howled in surprised pain and twisted underneath the dark blade. The guard slumped to the ground, landing in a kneeling position by the door. He looked like he was praying with his head bent to the floor.
Marcus stepped back from the horror and his body came into his command once more. His eyes closed and then opened again, the dark tinge now gone. There were no voices, no slithering worm in his mind. The force had left him and he was utterly alone in the faint light of a torch.
His body sank to the floor, tears rolling down his cheeks in waves. He’d been betrayed by the ones he loved and they’d taken something from him. The dragons weren’t who they’d said they were, and he was now a killer. A shadow of the void with a smokey blade and eyes that weren’t his.