The footsteps of Joacham echo down the corridor. He left the door to the cell ajar. This allows me to listen to the extraordinary thing in the echo. There is not just one echo, but two. It's like an echo of the echo, arriving a fraction of a tiny bit of a second later than the first. I stare at the wall, trying to figure it out. The wall! Two walls, two echos! Joacham is walking through a corridor and his steps bounce and echo from two different walls. Between one step and the next, the sound changes. It must be because he is in a room. He walks around without the distance changing too much. Then, the footsteps come back in this direction. They come to an end as Joacham appears once again in the open door.
He throws something at me. The smell hits me before the thing itself does. Ground dried meat. I can also smell some nuts, berries, grains, roots and other things mixed in. He has a bowl of the stuff with him, but has only thrown a handful at me. The smell is exquisite and I revel in the experience as it travels through my nose and my mouth. My body informs me very clearly that it wants to eat, right now. The way my stomach contracts and how saliva starts to flood my mouth.
A snap and a sting on my shoulder brings grabs my attention. Reflexively I try to catch the annoying thing, but I am far too slow. It stings a bit, but I wouldn't call this pain. Joacham calmly prepares the whip again.
"Why did you do that?" I hiss at him.
"Eat the food," comes the calm reply.
I take my time to study Joacham. He is tall, much taller than the devils I know. His horns curve a bit to the side and all the way round so they're almost pointing towards me, next to his face. He is muscled, but not ridiculously so. His long limbs make him look a bit like a cross between a devil and an imp. As I study his face, this impression only becomes stronger.
I'm too distracted to notice the lightning-quick movement of his arm and wrist and another sting from the whip hits me, on the flank this time.
"Stop that!" I put a bit of growl in my words, elated when it actually sounds like a growl instead of the screeching I did before. Before I can delve deeper in how the growl feels when I make the sound deep in my chest, I duck. Joacham aborts the whiplash he was about to do.
"Eat the damn food," he states again.
"What's with the food?" They haven't done anything weird to the food before, as far as I can tell, but he is strangely insistent.
The way he looks at me makes me uncomfortable.
"You don't even notice, do you? Harijia, with her twig-like arms, carried you back here. You're nothing but skin and bones." His lips twitch as if in a smile.
Focusing on my body again, I finally start to notice what it's been telling me from the moment I've smelled the food. I am really, really hungry. Extending one of my limbs, I look at it. Skin and bones is a bit of an exaggeration, but I do look a bit skinny. A small sting on my back drags my attention back to Joacham.
"Stop that!"
"Eat the damn food!"
We stare at one another. I get the distinct impression the devil is enjoying this. Taking a piece of the food in my mouth, I am once again assaulted by the taste and the smell. A sting on my flank gets me back to eating.
"Swallow."
The command is accompanied by a small movement with the whip. I try to speak, but find my mouth too full for it. There's the choice to swallow or spit it out. My body decides to swallow. "Why do you do this? Really, why?"
"Keep you focused, but not too focused." Joacham is tapping his hand with the whip.
"What's so bad about that?" There are so many interesting things I've found to study the last few hours. Why would that be a bad thing?
Joacham shakes his head. "It could kill you. Now, are you going to eat?" Holding the bowl with the same hand as the whip, he scoops up some of the mixture and throws it at me.
I take another mouthful and swallow. "Die, how?"
"You used a lot of energy doing whatever you did," Joacham says. "If you go into that state again, you're going to burn yourself out."
My mouth is too full to reply, so I just look at him in askance. Joacham just ignores it. After I swallow, my hunger prompts me to eat another few mouthfuls. Before I can get engrossed in the taste, a sting on my leg gets my attention away.
"Why don't you just give me the bowl and let me eat in peace?" I shoot at Joacham.
"Can't do," comes the immediate reply.
Instantly, my anger surfaces. I want that food. I will get the food. After a quick crouch I jump towards it. Or at least, I try to. My body is weaker than I had realized and doesn't push me nearly as far as I intended.
"Body catching up with you?" There is a definite smirk on Joacham's face. With a swift kick so I don't even have the time to rake his leg, he launches me back into the cell. "Don't try that with me, not right now. If you want me to show you how weak you still are, at least come at me when you're in a fighting shape."
The game of taunting, feeding and hitting me continues until the bowl is empty. Then I get a short reprieve for Joacham to fill the bowl again. After the third time I empty the bowl, he just stays at the door. I am not yet sated, but at least my body isn't screaming at me anymore. The sensitivity to all sensations has lessened, but is not yet gone. I'm both relieved it's less and disappointed. I was so close to figuring things out about sound, light and scent. Hopefully, I'll get another chance. For now, it's time to take an active part in my own life again.
The cell I'm in is not that much different from the summoning cell. Except there are no runes, the door isn't mostly bars and everything feels muted. Not that much like the summoning place, except for the shape and size, really. "What is this place?" I ask Joacham.
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The devil regards me quietly before answering. "It's the punishment facility, and I'm the one in charge." A nasty smile creeps over his face as he speaks. "I whip, cut, smash or just restrain, depending on the offense committed." A chuckle, a sneer, then his face returns to normal. "Not as much of that anymore since the last war three hundred years ago. Now we mainly use the dead cells, officially called isolation cells. Sensory deprivation works almost as well as torture and creates far less resentment. Less resentment means less chance of another demon uprising."
I look at him with suspicion. "You hurt demons?"
Joacham rolls his eyes before answering. "Of course that is what you focus on. Yes, I did and I do." He looks me straight in the eyes with a serious expression, the first serious face I've seen on him. "You would too if you were in my position. Don't try to tell me you'd never hurt your fellow demon, there isn't a lot of solidarity among us. You also know that, sometimes, only hurting someone will make them stop causing trouble." The smirk returns.
"I don't do anything wrong," I say defensively, not even sure why I feel the need to defend myself.
"True, except stirring up the swarmlings, creating factions among them. Which makes the other demons nervous and unruly too. And let's not forget you almost killed yourself, I'd call that 'doing something wrong' too." Joacham taps the rolled-up whip on his thigh. "Though I don't know how to punish you for that. A bit of a puzzler. We don't have many demons here that are that stupid or suicidal."
The words sting my pride. I'm not stupid, the problem is that I'm too smart! "Well, aren't you Keepers supposed to help me?"
Joacham narrows his eyes. "Stupid. How are we supposed to help you when you don't talk to us? If you'd talked to Harijia about what you were planning to do, she would have sent you here. I can understand you don't like her, you're not the only one. But you can trust her with your life, if not your sanity."
"You may not have noticed, with your dulled senses and lacking wit, but if you're looking for a place to focus on yourself without distractions, this would be the best place to go. Of course, you'd have to deal with me going in and going out. I'd do terrible things to you. Giving you food and water, for example, or keeping you from killing yourself." Another eye-roll. "Most people appreciate my services nowadays. Some even enjoy it when I use my old skills on them. It takes all sorts, right?"
Despite the fact that the devil is insulting me every other sentence, I feel like he is more sincere than Harijia. No, that is not quite true. Harijia is just as sincere. Joacham just feels more like his own person, while Harijia felt like an extension for her masters. Which is strange, since Joacham is a devil himself. Right now, I have two questions and one is more important, since it's about me.
I look away before asking my question. It still feels unnatural to ask things from my jailers. "Why was everything so intense?"
The mocking smirk never leaves Joacham's face. "Wits still scrambled? Harijia told me about you when they first found you in your trance. You have this magic sense, right? Think of it as an extra eye. Remember when you were just born and opened your eyes? So many colors, so bright!" One hand is held between his face and an imaginary source of light as he turns his face away, grimacing, before straightening up again. "Your 'magic' eye was just a tiny bit open and you were still getting used to it. With your little stunt, you forced it way open. No wonder you can't handle the stimulation."
It takes a while to process his words. It makes sense though. If I used it so much, focused completely on myself, it would be like looking into the sun after exiting a dark cave. "How do you know this?"
"Because there have been others. You're not that special, you're not unique. Toss away the idea that no-one can understand you. Why are all demons so egocentric?" Joacham sighs theatrically.
"Aren't you a demon too?" I shoot back.
"Takes one to know one," is the quick reply. "Though you might want to keep that opinion to yourself to most devils, including the demon-devils."
By focusing on the conversation, I've nearly regained my sense of self. He did speak the truth that this place would be good for future experiments. There are barely any sounds coming in, the air is fairly empty of scents and, as I discovered before, the whole place is almost empty of magic.
There is just one thing I still have to ask. "So you don't like Harijia?"
Joacham keeps a blank face. "I never said that, did I? She is a hard-working lady with strong convictions and a skillset uniquely suited for her tasks. I only said that she rubs some people the wrong way. Including her teacher, ironically."
"And you." It's not a question but a statement.
"Don't be too hard on her. She's a demon from the old system." He sighs, still not confirming or denying.
"Aren't you too?" I ask.
Joacham turns his head to the side and looks into empty space. "Oh my, I think this demon may be lapsing back into his trance again, I should hurt him a bit more to snap him out of it, don't you think?" He nods. "Yeah, I think so too." Turning back to me, he bares his teeth in an insincere smile. "Did you have any other questions?"
While I'm not the greatest conversationalist, his intentions are obvious. "No, I don't think so."
Joacham nods and takes a step into the cell. "Good, now that's settled, let's take a closer look at you, see if you can spot any changes. I'm very good at anatomy, but you know your body best. For example, why did you flap those spears on your back as if they were wings?"
With all that had happened, I nearly forgot. I was sure I had wings at that moment. Moving them out from my side where they are resting, I spread them to my sides as far as I can before the wall stops me. Some of the many joints lock, to give more stability. I've used the same mechanism to make my stabs stronger, so the adjustment comes almost as second nature. Looking left and right I inspect the limbs. Nothing is different. Disappointment wells up in me. With a snarl, I slam them down on the floor, then into the walls to the sides.
Joacham's voice draws my attention away from my tantrum. "You don't need to show off for me, but if you want to hit the walls some more please wait until I leave."
Despite his words, he's by my left side in a few steps, grabbing the limb there to look at it. I try to pull away, but his grip is too strong. Yet another Keeper who is stronger than he looks. Then again, that goes for all demons. His hands move over the bone structure. Here and there, where sinews, muscles and nerves briefly surface, I can actually feel his touch. Suddenly the hands stop. He moves them back and forth for a moment as if he's searching for something, then I feel pressure, like he's pushing on something. It doesn't hurt, as such, but the feeling is very uncomfortable. I resist the urge to attack the devil. The discomfort continues to grow. With a twitch I move a muscle I didn't know I had. A long, thin spike which had been hidden in a groove in the bone twitches out of hiding, followed by two more.
"No membrane yet, but that does look like it'll be a wing." Joacham eyes me up and down. "A bit too small to carry you, but you'll be able to glide on it at least."
A twist of his hands makes pain shoot down the limb and I hiss. One of my claws twitches in his direction before I stop myself. The devil seems oblivious to it.
"Great range of movement you have on these. Are you training with them as weapons?" He pulls the limb he is holding to a high corner of the room to extend it to its full length. "Good range too. We should see if we can strengthen them with something. Did you find any metals or something that suited your taste?" He catches me staring at him. "What? What did you expect, demons were kept and grown to be weapons of war, of course I'd know things like this."
His behavior is so different from before, it catches me off-guard. "I found some on one of my summons."
"Sure, but what did you and your keeper find for you?" He pauses and looks at me, blinking once. "Right, Harijia." After a momentary pause, he continues. "You know, while she will remain the one mainly responsible for you, there is no rule that you can't talk with the other Keepers. If Harijia isn't a good match for you, you're free to try your luck with one of the others."
I let the words sink in for a while. Joacham goes back to examining the limb, bending it at different angles and rotating it. At times he asks me to push it at angles against him with all my strength. I can't even make him exert himself.
"You know," I start, "I never considered asking someone else."
When Joacham replies, I can see his smirk is back. "Yeah, I figured."