Various vistas flashed through Alexi’s lucid mindscape.

A small, thoroughly ramshackle cottage, nestled between towering evergreens and surrounded by ragged tufts of hardy weed that sprouted haphazardly from the permafrost. A not-so-fine layer of frigid ice clung to every surface, even to the air of one’s breath.

He lingered on memories of those labour intensive days, of back-breaking field work and hearty, simple meals. Of lively, even hectic days filled with the bickering of his many siblings, and quiet, tranquil nights populated only with the muffled roar of the snowstorm raging outside. Of hard, frigid winters, and even more difficult springs, wherein the clan tax collectors came by in order to reap the healthiest of their meagre barley fields.

Now viewing those times in hindsight, it was quite an idyllic lifestyle, hard as it was. And though the rambunctious, hopeful version of himself of times past wanted nothing more but to escape that rather mundane life, he found himself yearning for it more and more the further he strayed from it.

But he knew these fantasies would never come into fruition.

The point where he could turn back had long since passed. He had squandered any chance of living that sort of life. There was no longer a home that he could return to, and that was none but his own choice, forged by his own decisions.

And now that memories of the past no longer offered him respite, the only choice he could make now was to find solace in the future.

After making this grim revelation, one that he’d reached all too often, he willed himself out of the warmth of times past; and into the present, the only place where he could still determine his own fate.

***

“...what’re you doing?”

Malt stood at the entrance of the little basement, a bucket in one hand and a cloth in the other.

“Well I figured I’d try out a little something I picked up a while back.”

Nasir looked at the boy with unamused eyes. “...are you planning on wiping the floor or something?”

“No I was gonna try-” Upon seeing that the older man’s expression hadn’t changed, his shoulders slumped, slightly dejected. “Nevermind then.”

Before he could walk away, another voice filled the dimly lit room in the form of a throat clearing. Hands and legs bound tightly to a not so comfortable chair, the khod couldn’t really do much in the way of mannerism besides to glance back in forth between his two captors. Despite this, he was clearly wanting to talk, likely in an effort to assure his own safety.

Nasir crouched into a squat as to be eye level with the captive, a slightly worrying smirk across his features.

“Looks like our guest is awake.” He gestured to Malt behind his back as to draw him in. “Come on now, I’ll take this opportunity to teach you a thing or two about interrogation.”

The boy placed his tools down and walked over, sitting in a way as to try and imitate the grey somewhat, albeit without much success. Once he’d finally settled into a semi-intimidating pose, Nasir turned back to the khod, murmuring a couple incomprehensible things under his breath.

“Alright now,” he made direct, unwavering eye contact with the khod, who hadn’t as much as whispered since regaining consciousness. “Let’s start off with something simple. What-”

“I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

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“...”

The two would be interrogators stared at the boy blank eyed for a moment. Malt glance sideways at the man. “Wasn’t he supposed to, like, resist or something?”

“...well I suppose this kind of thing happens from time to time as well. No matter, I suppose this means we can get right into the meat of it then.”

He stood up, crossing his arms in order to allow the captive some more breathing space. “Name and rank, lad.”

The boy answered without a hint of hesitation.

“Alexi, footman of three months.”

“How many campaigns? Any serious battles?”

“Not even a full one yet, deserted right before my first push.”

The grey pinched his chin, nodding in thought.

“No connections to any officers? Maybe a friend in higher standing or something?”

“Nothing.”

His eyes narrowed as his enthusiasm began to fade. Catching on this, and realizing that this was probably exactly the kind of response the old man’s artificial expressions and mannerisms were meant to evoke, he quickly cut in before his leverage and worth as a captive could dip any further.

“That being said, I did graduate from a state-sanctioned military academy, so I’ve an extensive knowledge on current military paradigm and some insight on the current matters of state. Of course I’d be willing to tell you anything about the rest of the deserters and details on chain of command as well.”

“That does sound quite enticing, though I feel a bit bad now. Have any demands of your own? Though I can more or less guess what they might be.” It was obviously a sarcastic remark, meant either to poke a little fun, or to serve another purpose that he couldn’t grasp.

“Well my life, for starters. I’m sure you can probably tell but that includes medical treatment.” He glanced down at the bandages covering his body, which only served to stop the bleeding. He was certain that his captors were skilled enough to completely treat him, thus this was likely a subtle reminder of who was really in charge. And he wouldn’t put it past the dangerous old man. The scene of him in battle - battle was a bit of a nice way to put it, slaughter rather would probably be more apt, was something that he’d likely never forget. “And before you ask, I can assure you that I can provide more information if I know that I’m at least entitled to my own life.”

The more experienced of the two captors smirked, Alexi’s quick thinking had likely won him at least a few more days of safety.

“‘A man with nothing to lose has no reason to tell’, huh? Looks like you’re well versed in this field.” he turned and walked to one of the tables populating the edges on the cramped space. He reached into his vest and pulled out a slick looking knife, placing it on the table. Whether this was meant to threaten or assure him, Alexi could no longer tell.

“Reasonable and quick on your feet, you’re definitely usable.” He put his hand over his mouth in an exaggerated, sarcastic manner. “Oh what am I saying, where are my manners?”

He turned to Malt. “Go and get something to eat, lad. You’re definitely out of it.”

“Out of it? I don’t think it’s that bad.”

“Okay kid, not like your stomach sounded like it was on the verge of imploding for the past hour or anything.”

He opened his mouth, and found that there was nothing he could say.

“...understood.”

He picked his bucket and cloth up once again, making his way up the stairs.

Nasir followed suit, addressing Alexi without turning. “We’ll start tomorrow, my granddaughter here will provide proper treatment in the meantime.” In entered a proper looking girl, to which he looked at in confusion seeing as she didn’t as much as flinch when meeting a man she’d never met before tied up and bleeding in a chair.

He made a few wide eyed glances at her, unnerved by the unaffected smile she donned as she approached his side.

“...not to raise any flags or anything, but aren’t you like, worried leaving her here?”

He let out a hearty chuckle, “Bold of you to assume. In fact, I’m more worried for you than I am her.”

“...w...what does that mean?”

The grey made his way up the dark staircase, escaping out of sight.

“O-oi gramps, what is that supposed to mean?”

He turned back to the girl, who remained in a close eyed smile.

He couldn’t exactly understand why, but he found himself trying to nudge away for the first time since regaining consciousness.