Kaius opened his eyes with difficulty. They felt glued together and unbelievably heavy. He blearily looked around--the fog in his eyes coating everything--as the very ground, he was on swayed back and forth in a swaying motion. It was like sitting on a ship.
He tried to raise his hand to wipe the mist that coated the world from his sight but found them too heavy to carry, so they uselessly flopped back to the floor. He was seated on his knees, cold, weary, and weak. He shook as a bone chilling current entered the darkness from behind him.
His eyes became steady, the surroundings cleared for him to see--sunlight filtered from the opening behind him. A large room made of old, wet wood and many chains hanging down from the ceiling. Other than him and the constant clinking of metal, there was nothing else of note.
Kaius tried to get up but found himself bound no matter how hard he pulled, he could not move. His mind was still waking up, it took him a good few minutes to look down at his arms. There he found chains bound tightly around his wrists.
Thick slabs of metal wrapped around them and interlocking chains welded into position. Following the short leash, they were hooked into a metal ring on the ground. He tried pulling again, this time much harder, but they held steadfastly.
Subconsciously, he pulled at his well of power--what were weak chains in comparison to his strength. With closed eyes, he delved into himself but found his well tied in uncountable chains, completely obscured from his sight. Confused, he reached for it but gasped as a piercing stab of pain erupted from his chest, and a fire scolded the skin of his neck.
He took shaky breathes as the pain subsided, it’s phantom ever present. He could have struggled and tried to break free or continued to attempt to pull from his well of orange waters, but he didn’t. Instead, he slumped in his spot as his mind cleared and the memories within them came like a tidal wave.
One by one, without pause, he remembered everything that happened within moments. His mouth became dry, hands shook, and his body felt heavier than ever before. Try as he might, he could not contain the raw emotions that ripped him apart. A broken sob escaped him, his eyes blurred as his tears ran down his cheeks.
Huddling into himself, his body shook with every wracking cry that left his throat sore and damaged. For long hours, his body swayed with the wooden floor under him, the emotions wreaked havoc within his soul.
A creak echoed in the room. Then another and another. Kaius did not look up, he could not care who stood before him. But his eyes did catch a glimpse of a blurry white image somehow walking with only a single leg in any usable state.
The being stood their unmoving and silent. Letting Kaius cry and scream and whimper to himself. By the end, his cries were not audible, just his body shaking. But, it eventually ran out of patience.
“Here,” it said.
Kaius looked up, the same scarred arm--clawed and ever so white--held the flower he had once huddled over in ecstasy. The flower had lost all color, just transparent petals, and a green stem. It was the last thing that reminded him of his mother.
He reached out to grab it but found the chains were too short. Instead, he opened his palm, fearing that he may not get it. But, it was an unfounded thought, the demon placed it there with as much care and reverence as possible. As though this was too valuable to harm.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Cupped in his hands, the flower visibly changed from the transparent color to the golden one that it had been when he woke from his reverie. It reminded him of his mother, her golden hair standing out in the darkness of that terrible night. He held it on his chest, he would never let it go.
“Why?” his voice was hoarse and scratchy. He stared into the unscarred eye of the demon--it was pitch-black with no other color. “Why are you doing this? What do you gain from it all?”
The demon looked away, eye glazed in memories. For a while, it did not move or react simply remembered. Then it shook its head, unwilling to say anything or open up to him.
“Stay silent then,” Kaius said. “At least you could tell me why you kept the flower for me?” he pleaded, putting more emotion then he expected into those words.
It was visibly conflicted and unsure whether it should speak. But it came to its decision moments later. In its harsh, whispering voice it spoke.
“You’ve imbued this flower with meaning, so it is valuable. It carries memories, not only yours but your mothers as well,”
“Meaning?” Kaius said sardonically. “What meaning? I’ve lost everything and everyone.”
“You may not see it, but I do. I witnessed what your mother sacrificed and what it did to the flower. It is a symbol. Cherish it, human.”
Kaius opened his hands and stared at the flower again. It swayed to an unseen wind within his grasp. Lightening the weight of the pain and guilt, he struggled to bear. It was beautiful, as beautiful as his mother was.
“I will,” he closed his eyes, his dry eyes and cheeks becoming tear-stained once again. “I will,” he repeated hold the flower tightly to his chest.
A creaking noise echoed within the room. Like an ancient door being swung open. Jumping in his spot, Kaius searched for the sound. The demon was gone, and from the darkness, in the room, three figures stepped in slowly. They were crouched and with weapons ready. Kaius hid the flower under his ragged shirt as they cautiously made there was towards him.
“You heard it too?” the first voice said from the shadows.
“It sounded like someone was here. Be on the watch,”
“Yes, Sir,”
As they walked into the light, Kaius bit on his lower lip and hands shook. Black as midnight leathers, blades aplenty on their bodies. Masks of cloth around their face, only their eyes exposed to the world. Hunters.
He didn’t know if it was the same group that caused this to happen, but that mattered little. They were hunters, and that was all he needed to know.
Screaming as a boiling fire exploded from within, he strained against the chains. He pulled from his locked well over and over again--the lancing pain bearable if he could get his hands on them. He would...do something, he had to do something.
He struggled endlessly against his restraints, hoping something would break or just a droplet of power would reach him. No reprieve was forthcoming. Slowly, that boiling fire dimed as he kept trying to get out--frustration, guilt, and grief driving him forwards.
One of the hunters stepped forward with quick, measured steps. Using the hilt, he smashed it across Kaius’s temple, knocking him to the ground. Then kicked him in the chest.
“Mad dog,”
Kaius wheezed, struggling to find up from down. The world spun around him without a stop. Patting the ground to reassure himself, he tried to get up but quickly found himself too disoriented to rise--though that did not stop his stubbornness from trying again and again.
“Idiot, why would he strike him?” one of the hunters said as they moved around Kaius. “Hope no mark was left, the Warden will have your hide for that when we make landfall. And no, I won’t be covering your ass either. I don’t actively look for a death wish,”
“He’ll heal, they always do. Freaks,”
“You say that only because you were born without it. Then again, some may say we were actually the lucky ones. Boy is going to be a Nefalite.”
Finding nothing of note, they left as cautiously as they had come in. Shutting the door behind them, obscuring it in the shadows.