Soulburned : The School of Souls
Chapter 12 : Shreds of Truth
Adler sat cross-legged on the floor of his room, feigning an attempt at meditation.
If the small cell could even be called a room.
The heavy wood door was locked and completely covered in glyphs. Some were intricately carved into the wood, others had just been burned. All had some variation of the same three effects.
Lock. Dispell. Alarm.
A hole had been cut through the thick door, at about head height. Three closely packed iron bars, also inscribed with glyphs and runes, had been affixed inside the hole. This way he could be monitored, or spoken to, without the door needing to be opened.
A Guardian stood outside his door, his Shirve Blade bare and emanating Void-light. Normally he was assigned an underling, typically Herclis, but Adler could see through the bars that today he was graced with Magnus himself. He was the head of their small order.
Every so often the man shot a poisonous scowl in Adler's direction.
There must have been casualties.
His room was furnished with a simple bed, and a single dresser. The dresser was filled entirely with grey wollen tunics, each embroidered with a symbol mirroring his Brand. The Iris wanted him to be immediately identifiable as dangerous. This had been true even before he had been given the Logos Mark.
His forehead itched, but he continued to meditate.
He had been confined to this room ever since the "Incident." If what he had heard while submerged in the Logos fountain was true, The Archmage knew that he was communicating with the Kovites somehow. That, in conjunction with his newly minted Wizardry potential, made him an incredible security risk. Adler suspected that had it not been for the outburst of clearly helpful Thymos, he would have been executed.
Whatever had seized control of him that night had yet to re-emerge. He had managed to expel the strange force from his mind, but only after it had forced him to cast several spells, the largest of which still lingered in the sky, continually drawing trace amounts of his Thymos to fuel itself. He had tried to staunch the flow of power, but since the Brand prevented him from interacting with his Thymos, it was a wasted effort.
"Archmage is coming in, Adler." Magnus intoned. "Get against the wall."
Adler complied wordlessly. His legs tingled as blood flow returned to them.
Magnus unbolted the door, then cast a spell. There was a sizzling pop, then the door swung open.
The Archmage entered with the woman who had examined him before. Magnus followed them, and
"Adler, i hope you've been made comfortable. This is Marelda Tyne. You've met previously."
"Will he not be bound?" The old woman spat.
"No." The Archmage said, "With Magnus here, we're in little danger."
"Hm." The woman grunted.
"Adler, Marelda is going to examine you again, and I'm going to ask you some questions."
"Of course." Adler deadpaned. "I expected you sooner."
"The city is in shambles after your little...stunt." The Archmage said, "I've been quite busy."
Magnus growled.
"How fares Herclis? I have not seen him since the attack." Adler asked.
"He was killed." The Archmage said.
Guilt.
"That is... unfortunate," Adler said.
The woman began probing Adler with her Logos once again. She silently cast a spell, an the shift of power made Adler's head swim.
"How have you been passing messages on to the Kovites?"
"I have not."
"Lie." The woman said.
Surprise.
"Do not lie to me, Adler. You will not like the result." The Archmage said. "I'll ask again..."
Rage boiled just under the surface of the man's calm demeanor. Adler could almost... see it there.
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"How have you been passing messages to the Kovites."
"I have not."
The Archmage made a gesture, and Magnus drew his sword. The blade ignited into dark fire.
"Last chance Adler. You live only by my good graces. How have you been passing messages to the Kovites."
"I have not."
A blast of black Void fire shot out from the pommel of Magnus's sword. Adler screamed as the flame burst across his flesh. The fire was cold and seemed to suck the very life from his bones.
"It was the voice!"
"Truth," Marelda said.
Adler wondered how her spell worked. It couldn't have been any sort of divination or mind reading... that type of magic was unavailable to a Wizard unless they also manifested a Thymos Mark, which was... all things considered, highly unlikely.
"Thank you, Alder. How did you cast those spells."
"I don't know."
"Truth."
"Why did you destroy the Challice and Hammer."
"The voice told me to."
"Truth."
"Why."
"He said it would break the Brand. "
The Archmage paused, clearly confused.
"Did it work?
"Yes..."
"Truth."
"Is your new Brand functional?"
"Yes."
"How long have you heard the voice."
"Always."
"Lie."
Another blast of fire clawed itself across Adler's body, leaving discolored patches of flesh in its wake.
"How long?" The Archmage asked again once the sorcerer had managed to compose himself.
"Two years... but I've always felt it trying to speak, even if I couldn't hear it."
"Truth."
"Does it have a name?
"Yes."
"What is its name?"
"Empathy."
"Do you still hear this... Empathy."
"No."
"Can you sense it?
"No."
"That is a lie."
The questions continued long into the evening.
"Fetch the Mender." The Archmage said when they were finally done. "We'll continue in the morning."
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Adler groaned in pain. His tunic had been burned away, and there wasn't an inch of exposed flesh that hadn't been ravaged by the Shriving Flame. The fire didn't burn him, not exactly. The flesh where the flames came into contact with his skin was discolored, but any actual damage he had sustained from the assault was purely internal.
He lay face down on the bare wooden floor. Magnus still stood watch outside the room.
He felt like he had been turned inside out, and then dragged through a patch of gravel.
Adler coughed, sending a small trickle of blood down his face.
Void... he thought.
Dread.
He'd answered question after question, but when the Archmage had continued to press him for details regarding his connection to the Kovites, he had fallen silent. Magnus had taken the lack of cooperation as an invitation to enact a small degree of vengeance on Adler.
Alder lay alone in his room for about an hour before the Mender finally arrived.
"Mr. Crane..." The woman said quietly through the bars on the door.
"Sylane..." Adler sighed, "Thank you for coming."
"It is my duty."
"Of course."
Magnus opened the door, allowing Sylane to enter. The Guardian stayed outside, but closed the door behind Sylane.
"So," she said after a moment of silence. "Where did it touch you this time?"
Alder shuddered.
"Everywhere."
Sylane got to work and began to pour her Eros into Adler, replacing the bits of soul that the Shriving Flames had stolen from him.
It was a slow and arduous process.
"What did you do?"
"I fed information to the Kovites that allowed them to lower the Lesser Flame... Then used their attack as a distraction to destroy the Eros Hammer and Logos Chalice."
"That's... quite dreadful," Sylane said. "I'd have to say you've gotten no less than you deserve. People died, Adler."
Sylane took Adler's hand, channeling Eros into it to eradicate one of his wounds.
"I suppose that's probably true." He said. "I did deserve this."
Sylane stood.
"Magnus. Let me out. He's healed enough, but tell the Archmage that if he doesn't take the Trial soon, he will die of Logos poisoning. Since he's gone through so much trouble to keep from executing the boy, he'll probably want to avoid that.
Magnus grunted, then complied, letting Sylane leave.
He slammed the door shut violently behind her.
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After she had gone, Adler returned to his faux meditation. After another hour had passed, Magnus was relieved by one of his men.
When the new arrival wasn't looking, Adler finally opened his hand, revealing a small scrap of paper that Sylane had tucked into his palm.
The note had only two words written on it.
It worked.
Adler tore the scrap of paper into tiny shreds, then swallowed its eviscerated remains.
Relief.
He allowed himself to sleep.