Chapter Eighteen: Torture

Well, it’s time to sacrifice myself. I woke up nervous, and my gut has been bothering me for an hour now. I don’t know if I want to do it anymore, but I know I need to.

Th’ul swallows his food and looks at me. “Three High Mages just entered the cafeteria. One is confirmed to be in the cult. It’s now or never, Zade.” I gulp in nervousness and nod at him.

“Okay, let’s do it.” I stand up on the table and yell at the cafeteria. “I WILL BE ALONE TODAY AT THREE IN THE TROPHY ROOM. I HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE! STATE YOUR ALLEGIANCE. UM, THIS MESSAGE IS FOR THE CULT. Thank you.” I sit back down embarrassed. I’m getting more than a few amused or confused looks.

“Well, the cult had to have heard it,” Xander laughs. “Now we just have to hope they get there.”

“Meet me here at lunch, Zade,” Th’ul says. “I need to give you some pointers.” I nod, feeling everyone’s eyes on me.

— — —

The fireball almost touches Master Thul, but dissipates right before it reaches him. It’s my best attempt so far. I’m hoping to be able to throw a good fireball just in case I need to use it against the cultists today. Maybe even just to threaten them.

But I know there’s something else I need to learn today. “I need to learn to defend myself from magic. I’m ready for the next step.”

Master Thul sighs. “I don’t know if you’re ready for it, but I realize your need for it. I don’t expect you to get it your first time, though. Get your shield and I’ll tell you what to do after.”

I nod and obey him, setting up the shield around my core. The now-familiar protection it seems to offer fills me with calm.

“Now you must expand your shield to fill your mind. This is harder than it sounds. You must grasp your shield. Don’t get frustrated. Many take days to learn this trick.”

I look at my core. How am I supposed to grab an invisible shield? One that doesn’t exist. It only appears when I try to touch my core, and even then, it's intangible right? I reach out to my core. The shield blocks it, but I reach out towards the shield and try to grab it. It slips out of my reach. I try again, and this time, I’m not even able to touch the shield. I grunt in annoyance and Master Thul chuckles.

“Stay calm. Don’t force it. Don’t forcefully grab the shield. Be gentle.”

I nod somewhat frustrated, but this time take a few deep breaths to steady myself. When I touch the core this time and the shield appears, I gently reach out for the shield. It reacts just like an intangible object does. In other words, I can’t do it. Thankfully, this isn’t wasting much Mana, so I can keep trying.

So once again, I try to grab the shield and expand it. The shield is stubborn, not allowing me to get a hold of it. At this point, I’m losing my cool. It’s frustrating to fail something that seems so simple.

As I keep trying, my frustration increases, and I realize that I won’t get anything productive if I don’t calm down.

So the cycle repeats. I try, get frustrated, then calm myself down. Rinse and repeat.

Over and over again.

After one hour of trying, I’m done. I can’t do it.

Master Thul nods at me. “Don’t feel discouraged. You did well. When you’re ready, we can try again.”

— — —

“Oh, I totally forgot you wouldn’t know how to defend yourself, Zade,” Th’ul admits, “Maybe you shouldn’t go there. You’ll be basically defenseless.”

“No, I’ve got to be there,” I respond.

I found Th’ul in the game room playing a strategy game that I can’t even begin to understand.

“So you want me to teach you, then?” Th’ul says, setting a sphere down on a black square. From the other side of the board, a red square magically moves from up a couple of strange purple spaces. Th’ul winces, and pensively puts his hand together and two fingers near his mouth.

“I was hoping you could give me some pointers,” I respond. “Can you help me?”

“NO!” Th’ul shrieks. I jump back and he looks at me sharply. “Sorry, I wasn’t speaking to you.” He moves another sphere to a teal space trapping a square between it and two other squares. “Yes, I think I might be able to help you. Let me just finish my game.” I nod and watch as slowly Th’ul gets clearly more frustrated. He keeps moving his pieces into places that trap the opponent’s pieces, but, at every turn, the opponent finds a way to not only trap but remove Th’ul pieces. I don’t understand any of it. Eventually, Th’ul sees something on the board and grins wildly. It’s the first time I’ve seen him do that. He moves a sphere and on the board the words You Win! appear. Th’ul nods and turns to me.

“Okay, let’s go to my room.”

“Your room… Okay, fine,” I say, somewhat uncomfortable. I’ve never allowed anyone in my room, and I assumed it would be the same with anyone else.

I walk with him, walking down several flights of stairs and down various hallways until we reach the Gallery. There, he enters one of the many doorways. The hallway we enter is darker than the one I enter for my room, more sinister. I like that. It feels like a place I could relax in. We reach a door and Th’ul opens it and leads me in.

I’ve never seen so much black in one place, and I realize I like it. The entire room can only be described with the word dark. The furnishings are as dark as the room, the wardrobe and desk ebony. Even the light here is black, but somehow it’s easy to see anyway. It’s a surreal feeling and I love it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Th’ul tells me. I chuckle.

“This is amazing!”

Th’ul grins. “I aim to please.” He sits on his bed and offers a seat next to him. I do, and he begins to talk to me.

“You know the basic Core Shield, right?” At my nod, he continues. “It took me three days to be able to do a physical shield, but I’m confident I can teach you in one. Can you see something around me?” I strain but there’s nothing. I shake my head and he nods. “Exactly. But I do have a shield around me. What you’ve got to remember is that the shield doesn’t exist to our naked eye. Just as you can’t see it around your core, you can’t see it with your eyes when it’s physical. When you imagine grabbing your mental shield, mentally grab it, don’t physically grab it.” I don’t think I understand. But I give it a try anyway.

I put up my Core Shield, as Th’ul called it, and imagine it as not real. But as soon as I do that, it dissipates. Nothing changes. I groan.

“Here, I have an idea,” Th’ul says. “You can’t see my shield, right? Throw a fireball at me. I’ll reinforce my shield, so I don’t get hurt.”

I want to protest, but I understand the importance. It doesn’t feel right, though, considering I can’t see his shield. I take a minute to create the fireball, then send it at him, wincing as I do so. The fireball whizzes at him but just as it’s about to touch him, it just fizzles out, as if it never existed. I never even saw the shield around Th’ul.

“Now you believe I have a shield.” Th’ul tells me. “Try again, but this time, think of my shield and how real it was. Or not real, I guess.”

I close my eyes again, and this time Th’ul’s words strike me. He said to grab it mentally and I think I understand. Even though this is all in my mind, I’ve been imagining this as if I was using my hands to grab the shield. Now that I know it’s real, it’s easier to remember and grab. When I poke the core, I imagine the shield stuck in my grasp. It works, the shield around my core materializing. I can see it now evolving my core.

What did I need to do again? Expand it, right? I try to force it to get bigger, and the strain is big, but I’m able to expand it. I keep making it grow until eventually it disappears, but I can still feel myself using magic to keep it up. Does that mean…

I open my eyes, and I can see Th’ul smiling.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Th’ul asks.

“I think so,” I respond.

“Let’s test it, then,” He says and I watch as a quill rises in the air. My eyes widen. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but it’s too late. It sails through the air until it hits my shield. I feel it dissipate, but thankfully the quill drops from the air.

“It's still not strong,” Th’ul tells me. “But it's a shield all right. Congratulations. You did it!”

— — —

It’s lunch and my nerves are exploding in fear right now. I’ve been practicing my shield with Th’ul and although I can do it if I really think about it, it still takes a lot of effort and it’s not strong at all. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to defend myself if they attack me. I’ll have my sword at least. Hopefully, that counts for something.

“Okay, I have a couple of pointers for all of us,” Th’ul tells me and my friends. Astil nods. “First, we need to know when we can enter the Trophy Room. Zade, when it’s time, scream the word ‘Trustworthy.’ I promise you I’ll hear it. Second, don’t engage them unless they do first. Don’t do anything brash. Don’t insult them.

“Keep your shield up at all times. Keep your sword sheathed unless you need it. Don’t let them know you feel threatened.

“Astil, Xavier, you’ll be with me. We’ll stand outside the Trophy Room. I’ll be able to listen in on them. If things go horribly wrong, Astil, you must go find a High Mage. Xavier, if need be, you must have a weapon. Do you own one?” Xaier shakes his head.

“I’ve got one,” I say, taking out my dagger. I was planning on bring Nightwielder to the Trophy Room, but Xavier might need it. “I don’t know what the inscription means, but it’s a good blade.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Th’ul lets out a breath. “Alright, I think it’s time to go. You must go before any of us, Zade. Trust that we’ll get there in time.”

I suck in a breath, heart pounding. I’m already regretting my decision to do this.

“Remember,” Th’ul warns as I leave, “We’re only here to unmask them, not to fight them.”

As I leave, I can feel many people’s eyes on me. I feel burdened as I take the trip to the Trophy Room. I peek around corners to make sure no one’s following me, although I should be hoping they are.

I’ve never felt scared like this. I take a deep breath, sit down, and create my shield. I have it up soon enough and I’m off again.

As I crest the final staircase, I hear a rustle behind me. I turn around but there’s no one there. Nevertheless, I walk a little faster. I’ve reached the Trophy Room.

I open the solid metal door and it creaks loudly, making me jump. I enter and close the door. The Trophy Room is illuminated by several torches hanging from the ceiling, some of the only natural light in Zenyth. It’s a trophy room in name only. The trophies were relocated recently, so the room is empty. I walk to the middle of the room. There are several paintings in the room now, and many of the men in the paintings look like they’re judging me. I’ve heard these are paintings of the High Mages.

Nobody is here yet. Maybe they aren’t coming. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I can’t decide. All I know is that my plan is stupid, and so am I. My breath is coming quickly to me now, and I feel anything but relaxed. I feel like at any moment, mages will come in and attack me.

After a few minutes, I relax a little. It really feels like they’re not coming. I lay back on the wall. Maybe I could take a little rest.

The door opens. I hunch back in the shadows. Ten men and women come in, and my heart speeds up once again.

The ten are masked, and I know it’ll be hard to unmask them. They all look older than me and more experienced with magic. One of them looks at the shadows where I am.

“We know you’re here, Zade,” The man says in a gravelly voice. I don’t recognize him, but maybe I’ve seen him. I need to rip that mask off his face. Right now, though, I’m only wondering how he knows where I am.

I step out of the shadows.

“You wanted to talk to us?” The man asks. “Here we are. What do you want?”

“I want to know more about you.”

The man laughs. “You expect us to believe that? We know what you believe in, Zade, and we know about your incident with Raakhshas.”

I decide to come clean. It feels like the only option. “I only want to know who you are. How am I supposed to know what to believe if I don’t know the people who are teaching me?”

The man narrows his eyes but doesn’t dispute my claim. “It is better if you do not know who we are.”

“How is that better? How can you know if your friend is part of your cult if you can’t even see her face? It’s not right. It makes it easier to infiltrate you!”

“You’re just wasting our time, aren’t you? You called us here for nothing! Did you get your friends to do something for you against us while we were gone?” He looks angry now, and I back up nervously.

“No, no! I just wanted to talk to you. That’s all, I promise!” I stutter a little, and he growls. Clearly, this is serious for him, and I’m intruding.

“I’m done!” The woman next to him yells. She takes something from her cloak, and I gasp. They brought swords. I’m surprised they aren’t attacking me with their magic, but, as four more people draw their swords, I understand. They want to draw this out. They want to make me pay for wasting their time. I’m about to yell for my friends when I feel the air leave my lungs. I gasp for air, and I notice the leader looking at me like he’s concentrating.

“Shhh,” He whispers. “Don’t talk. If you scream, you will die.” I nod and suddenly I can breathe again. I stand up slowly, trembling, and unsheathe my sword. Three of the mages attack me at once, and I’m left to defend myself desperately. I’m good with the sword, but these are probably highly trained mages. Plus, there are three of them. One of them would be hard enough,

I parry a thrust from one, then immediately move my sword to my right, where I barely defend my head from being forced off my shoulders. I’m already sweating, and my breathing is hard. As I dodge another lunge, I bring my sword back up. I can’t last long like this.

As I duck reactionally under a thrust, I take a chance. I attack one of the Cultists and he sucks in a breath hurriedly. Clearly, he didn’t expect me to try this. I grin, but the smile is wiped off my face as soon as I see the trap. The woman to my left strikes at me, and I feel as the sword enters my back a little before I move right. I know the sword didn’t go in too deep, but it already hurts like hell.

The woman strikes at me again. I dodge, but another Cultist scrapes my shoulder. I wince and through the mask, I know the Cultist is smiling. I retreat and the Cultists advance on me slowly. I glare at them obstinately. I spit blood, but I’m determined and steady. I can’t let them win.

The woman strikes at me again, and, once again, I dodge it. The next thing I know I’m on the ground, my head hitting the floor hard. I groan. One of the Cultists must have tripped me. I think I dropped my sword somewhere here. I look around and my eyes widen as I see a Cultist raise his sword. I crawl back, barely dodging the deadly weapon, and locate my sword. I grab at it desperately, but the woman kicks it away, and I can feel tears in my eyes. This was a mistake.

“You won’t get away with this,” I whisper.

The woman laughs. “What are you going to do about it?”

I stand up quickly, eyes glassy. I raise my fists.

“ENOUGH!” The leader yells. He waves at the three Cultists and they back off. Are they letting me leave? I look up at the man and he moves his hand downwards. I feel a force pushing me to my knees, and I keep up my shield, trying to stop the man’s magic. I’m not strong enough. The shield breaks, and I grunt in pain. I grit my teeth, but I can’t stop his magic. When I’m on my knees, he moves his hand, forcing my head up. Then I feel myself sliding towards the man. I’m bound, unable to move. I feel claustrophobic, and want to scream, but there’s no air in my lungs. I can barely breathe.

When I’m kneeling before him, he cups my chin.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Zade Helstorm,” He whispers softly in my ear. “I will make sure you never make the same mistake again.” He smiles as he takes a knife from his belt. My eyes widen and I desperately try to move, but I can’t. I wonder where Astil, Xavier, and Th’ul are. Shouldn’t they have realized I’m taking too long? I watch as the man rips my shirt off of me.

He takes his knife and carefully caresses my chest with it. The cold feel of the steel on my body makes me twitch. Tears are flowing freely now. The man’s smile looks evil now as the knife bites into my skin now, drawing a bit of blood. I groan in pain inwardly, but no sound comes out. He’s still holding me. He starts carving my chest, cutting deep enough to scar but not deep enough to wound severely. The pain blinds me and I want to yell so badly. I’ve never felt pain like this and he clearly knows it. The knife cuts a little deeper. It’s covered in blood now along with his hand.

I can barely see my chest anymore. There’s too much blood, sweat, and tears on it. I silently plead with the man asking him to stop, but there’s no chance of that. He forces me down and removes my pants, leaving me in my undergarments. Then he goes to work on my legs. He takes care to not slice bone or muscle, but still the knife cuts deep, injuring me deeply.

The other Cultists stand by, masked faces revealing nothing. I want to reach out to them desperately, to plead with them. One of them must be against this. But I know I can’t. I feel embarrassed under their gaze. My face remains impassive, though my tears are leaking out. There’s a pool of blood under me. It feels like I’m drowning in it. I wonder how much more blood I can lose before I die.

I feel blood on my mouth. The metallic taste is disgusting, I need to spit it out, but it's impossible.

The man has reached my feet. As he slices them, I renew my efforts to move, to do something, anything. All I can do is watch just like the other Cultists as he slices me open. I feel naked, as if he’s revealing everything about me.

After a few hours, or maybe minutes, or pure torture, of pure hell, it seems like the leader gets bored. He licks the blood off the knife, raising his mask a little. I try to see his face, but he doesn’t raise it enough. He sheathes his sword, and I inwardly sigh in relief.

The man turns his back to me and the Cultists. “Do what you want with him. Don’t kill him. I need to go. I have an important meeting to go to.” He walks away, cloak swishing.”

Do what you want with him. The words send chills down my spine. I watch sadly as the man leaves.

As soon as the door closes, I am free, the magic the man was using on me is released. I still can’t move due to the pain, but at least I can breathe and relax freely.

At least, I want to relax freely, but a Cultist kicks me as soon as I move. I groan, and this time I can hear the noise. Strange that even the smallest change causes a little comfort in me.

Another kick hits me. I curl into a ball.

Another kick hits me.

And another one.

And another one.

I’m hit with a barrage of kicks, and I spit blood out, struggling to get to my knees. All I want to do is get out of here. Everything else is forgotten.

A fist crunches my face. I think that was my nose breaking, but I’m not sure about anything anymore. Another punch sends me reeling, and this time it hits my eye. When I look up, I can’t see from it. I’m left with only a little bit of vision. The blurry figures keep hitting me.

“Please…” I stammer, pleading with them. Hoping. “Please…stop.”

A kick smacks my face, and I tumble to the ground. I stop moving. I give up. I let them hit me, my body and soul numb. I just want the pain to end.

I just want them to kill me.

Several of the kicks stab the recent wounds the leader gave me, and I wince despite myself. I would do anything they asked me now. I hate myself for thinking that, but I don’t really care anymore.

I start to slip from consciousness. I can feel the light calling to me, urging me home, each kick energizing it more. I want to take the offer.

The Cultists have realized that I’m not moving anymore. I can barely hear as the woman speaks to them. They leave and I’m left alone on the ground, bleeding, barely alive. I don’t know if I can survive this.

The pain leaves me. The other senses follow after. My eyes get glassy, and I can’t feel the blood anymore.

Unconsciousness settles over me.

— — —

I wake up in a familiar place but it takes me a couple of minutes to remember what this place is.

The medic ward.

I gasp and try to sit up. Pain lances through me and I immediately lay down again. I can feel every part of my body aching.

There’s no one next to me. But I do have my book on a table. I mentally call Master Thul and he pops into existence immediately.

“What happened to you?” He asks, eyes widening in horror. My sheets are stained red, and my face is clearly bloated and sickly.

“I ran into a door,” I respond, laughing. That was a mistake, as I start coughing, pain lancing through my chest. My heart feels like it will burst at any moment, and all I want to do is vomit.

He looks concernedly at me, so I tell him the truth. Everything that happened, from the plan to the moment I lost consciousness. I wonder where my friends are now. Maybe the nurse expelled them.

“That was a stupid idea, Zade,” Master Thul says, crossing his arms.

“I think I know that now,” I wince.

“You could’ve died.”

“I know that too.”

“You’re lucky you escaped in one piece.”

“Stop telling me the obvious, please,” I respond exasperatedly.

“Zade, you must not be so brash. The mages in the Cult have practiced magic for years, some decades, some even a hundred years. They’ll always know more than you. You must not fight them directly. You will always lose.”

“That’s slightly less obvious,” I scratch my head, feeling another jolt of pain, “But if I can’t fight them, what am I supposed to do? You’re saying I’m worthless right now, aren’t you?”

Master Thul shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. What I’m saying is that you need more practice and a lot more knowledge to be at the level they are at.”

“So there’s nothing I can do,” I mutter. “That’s the definition of worthless.” I mentally will Master Thul away.

I’m worthless. I can’t do anything.

I killed my parents. I moved here to get a better life. One where I meant something,

But I don’t mean anything here.

My friends aren’t even here to watch over me when I’m hurt.

I’m worthless.

I only wanted to be able to do something.

I didn’t want to save the world. I wanted to save my friends. To be a good friend. To not have to leave them like I did Jade. To not let them end like—

But I couldn’t even do that.

I couldn’t even figure out who the enemy was. Now I’ve only put a huge target on my back.

Not to mention the bruises. I don’t know how long it'll take to heal, but I know it’ll be a long time. I’ve been injured more than any of my friends ever have. Whatever Raakhshas had done to Astil, the Cultists did to me a thousand fold.

I couldn’t defend myself when I needed it most. I lost my shield immediately, and my swordsmanship wasn’t any good either. I could barely defend myself against one of them, much less three.

I failed. I couldn’t do a simple job.

I’m worthless.

Tears sting my face as I take it in.

I’m worthless.