The arrangement after Abel accepted sanctuary from Dmitri Fenharrow was sudden and agitating.
He was disarmed then escorted by Dmitri and an entourage of soldiers (who all looked at him warily, much like a marble statue they didn’t expect to move). Whispers erupted amongst the crowd around him as they crossed through the battlefield to an encampment up the hill.
Never thought I’d see a Windspinner soldier captured.
He’s not captured, he’s turned.
Hard to believe he can turn that easily with the bloodbath he left behind.
Any monster like that should be snuffed out. Letting him live and taking him to our camp is lunacy.
Abel tried to ignore the tense air roiling around him as the entourage eventually ushered him into a carriage sitting at the edge of the encampment.
It was a simple wooden box structure, with two seats facing one another, a single window and a door. As Abel entered the enclosure, he noticed that the window was made up of glass rods, which functioned as bars. With a single touch, he knew that this was Altiman Glass.
Altiman glass alone was relatively harmless. Contact or proximity to the glass would merely suppress one’s spirit flame like the lid on a pot holds in steam, turning a mage into an ordinary mortal.
However, if one were to channel additional magic into the glass, its suppressing capacity could react enough to completely snub the spirit flame, killing anyone in contact with it.
It was also the craft used to steal Abel away from his homeland to begin with.
For good reason, Abel grew apprehensive.
It didn’t help that Dmitri then insisted he wear a glass cuff chained to the seat of the carriage, to ensure he wouldn’t turn against them and attack an entire encampment on his own, nor run off either.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
What kind of idiot would start a fight behind enemy lines?
“I know you wouldn’t, but–”
“Was I offered sanctuary or entrapment?” Abel yelled, immediately diving away from the accessory. He attempted to exit the carriage, only to find it sealed from the outside. It was entrapment. So Abel turned back to Dmitri.
The two proceeded to wrestle rather unceremoniously, twisting limbs as Abel tried every possible way to make his wrist harder to grab, even if that meant taking fingers up his nose and mouth as Dmitri tried to shove his entire body closer within reach.
“This was the only way they would agree to grant you sanctuary! I promise this is temporary and you’re not really trapped– Hey!”
Dmitri was not as limber as Abel and lost his balance, knocking his head into the top of the carriage with a resounding THUD.
“Ow…”
It was enough to get Abel to stop out of concern. Dmitri took the opportunity to go for the kill and latched Abel’s ankle with the band from his position on the floor.
“HAH! I mean– I apologize.” Dmitri sheepishly corrected himself. “ It’s only for the journey.”
The two slumped in their respective seats, exhausted from the fight. Abel shot Dmitri with a rueful look.
“Where are we going?”
“The capital. You’ll be living with me until we can get your situation sorted, so I hope we can get along. I have a mother, and brothers, and you will meet others who are facing similar circumstances.”
Dmitri paused, a flash of realization crossing his features.
“Do you have a family?”
Abel quieted.
“I’m not telling you that, sir.”
“Ah…” Dmitri sighed in frustration. “I should caution you, Abel. The Empire may have plans to speak with you before you get settled. They are far more wary of the danger you pose than I.”
“I could tell.” Abel gestured towards the soldiers just outside the window. “Maybe they’re smart to.”
“Ah, yes, well…” Dmitri hesitated. He eyed Abel for a moment, as if internally weighing a scale in his mind. A hint of scrutiny, then pity crossed his features, then finally settled on conviction.
“You will be interrogated soon. Now, I am of the mind that questions are invitations, but the brass in the capital believe they’re demands.” Dmitri huffed, shifting in his seat to regard Abel properly. “If there are things you’d rather not speak about, you’ll need the art of clever omission, rather than refusing to answer outright. You may practice on me until we reach our destination.”
Abel’s expression flickered from annoyance to shock. For all his time in the Caldon Kingdom, he learned to read sweet-talkers and false promises for what they were: a means for someone else to use your own power for their gain. In other words, purely selfish manipulation.
And yet, here this strange man is offering a way to keep something for himself. He didn’t know what to make of it.
“Thank you. I’ll consider it.” Abel mumbled, looking off towards the window to avoid betraying just how much he appreciated the gesture. He couldn’t afford to seem partial to him quite yet.
It could still be a trick in disguise, after all. He just had to wait and see when they reached the capital.