Indenuel closed his eyes again. It was easier. He felt it, coming to him as easily as breathing. He heard the screams, felt the memories. But the memories were confused with something else. They were memories of Mountain Pass. He remembered Andres’ sneer as he accused Lucia of murder. Remembered Gracia’s subtle lying and collecting gossip. He even remembered Hugo’s subtle way of turning his head when he spied Indenuel surrounded by the townspeople, the jeering Hugo ignored. It filled him with a familiar rage. And he heard the screams of terror that were far too recent.
Indenuel opened his eyes, and he was back in Mountain Pass, but it was burning. The trees had fallen, and the ground was littered with the bodies of his village folk. Indenuel backed away, seeing the blood and gore, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. He finally killed them all. They were finally gone. Except… except the children weren’t in the destruction. They were in Santollia City. There was no way they would be back here. They were safe.
Indenuel searched through the bodies, his heartbeat the only sound. They couldn’t be here. They wouldn’t. But what was he doing here? He shouldn’t be here either.
The three of them were there, right outside his old hut, mangled almost beyond recognition, but he recognized the blonde locks. The eyes, now open and sightless.
Indenuel gagged. This couldn’t be real. None of this was real. He wasn’t responsible for… there was no way they could be…
Indenuel leaned over and vomited.
Except he didn’t have control over his body. He was chained partially upright on a table. He was gagging on his own vomit that spilled over his face.
Indenuel opened his eyes, again. He was back in the dungeon, his body shaking as he tried to breathe. Vomit filled the mask, and he couldn’t get it off.
“Get High Elder Navir here as fast as you can!” Tolomon shouted to a guard as he worked on the mask. He unlocked it and threw it out of Indenuel’s mouth. Indenuel coughed the vomit out, sucking in ginseng scented air into his lungs. “I’m getting it. It’ll come off soon,” Tolomon said at his side.
“Matteo. Isla. Emilia. Are they alright?” Indenuel said between gasps and coughing. “Are they alive?”
“They’re in the other city. We’ve had no reports, but someone would have known if they’d gotten killed. They’re still alive. They’re fine,” Tolomon said, unlocking the chains around his torso and quickly tossing them to one side before helping him sit him up, letting him breathe, hugging him so he stayed upright.
“Dreamless tea. Do they make dreamless tea here in the dungeon?” Indenuel asked, sounding exhausted.
“They do,” Tolomon said, still hugging him. “But dreamless tea doesn’t work on people who are marked. No matter what the color.”
Indenuel closed his eyes, feeling his tears intermix with the vomit on his face. He rested his head against Tolomon’s shoulder as he kept him upright.
“Captain Luiz,” Indenuel whispered, feeling more tears fall down his cheeks. “He’s dead.”
“I know. I read the reports. I’m sorry, Indenuel. I truly am. He was a good man,” Tolomon said.
Indenuel kept crying. He couldn’t stop. “Is it over? Am I done?”
“You are done whenever you want to be,” Tolomon said as the door opened.
“What happened, is everything alright?” Navir asked as he moved deeper in the room.
Indenuel looked up at Navir, his breathing finally coming in easier, but he knew the sight that must have greeted him. Indenuel, still partially chained, leaning against Tolomon, covered in vomit.
“How did you get him unlocked. You don’t have a key,” Navir said, apparently ignoring everything else about what he saw. Indenuel forgot that Tolomon didn’t have a key, either. He unlocked the chains fast enough that he assumed he had one.
Tolomon’s nostrils flared before he turned his head to face Navir. “You’re right, sir. I don’t have a key. The Graduate program teaches many things, including lock picking. A vital skill that saved Indenuel’s life.” His eyes narrowed just enough. “You’re welcome.”
Navir frowned, the flicker of mistrust in his eyes. “Get a washcloth and a bucket of water,” Navir said to one of the guards as Dalius walked in.
“Yes, sir,” the guard said.
“Mask him again, and we’ll have Theo look him over,” Navir said.
“Get me a different mask, and I will,” Tolomon said.
Navir glared at Tolomon again, as though he was making some absurd request before calling out for another guard.
“Are you alright?” Tolomon asked Indenuel.
“I’m so thirsty,” Indenuel said.
Tolomon nodded, gently setting him down before going to the water pitcher. Indenuel didn’t dare close his eyes. Every time he did, he saw the three of them, mangled as they were in a dream that was far too realistic.
Tolomon sat him up again, helping Indenuel drink. Indenuel took a huge drink, ignoring the taste of vomit in his mouth and realized the corrupted tree bark was gone. Either someone removed it, or it fell out on the return journey.
“They’ve broken through,” Navir said, handing Tolomon a mask.
“What?” Indenuel asked.
“Your fire show made the rest of the army break through what defenses we had left. There are about a hundred of our men giving chase, but only enough to pick off some straggling armies. Kiam is headed straight for Santollia City. You can see their campfires like little lights just outside the walls.”
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“I… I already did it,” Indenuel said, trying to mull it out in his mind. “I’ve killed five hundred of them. The prophecy is done.”
Navir shook his head. “There are over a thousand Kiamese soldiers out there, starting to surround the city. Pick whatever five hundred you want. The army we’ve built up here will be more than happy to take the final five hundred.”
“Shit,” Tolomon whispered right next to him.
Indenuel was breathing deeply as the truth of it settled in his soul. He wasn’t done. Not only that, but there were almost a thousand Kiamese soldiers right outside the gates. More than double what Jaakob predicted. Maybe Navir was right, maybe he just had to kill five hundred alone, and the army would take the rest. Or maybe he really would die killing only five hundred.
A guard walked in, carrying a clean mask. Navir took it before handing it to Tolomon. Tolomon was reluctant. He grabbed the mask before gently placing it back in Indenuel’s mouth, locking it.
“Bring in Theo,” Navir said.
When the door opened, Theo hardly made it in a step before he backed away, eyes widening.
“Good God, boy. What happened to you?” Theo asked.
Indenuel, obviously, said nothing. Theo walked in, stepping carefully over the vomit, eyes wide as he examined his face.
“Is he not receiving the cleansing process well? He’s lost a dangerous amount of weight,” Theo said, closing his eyes as he placed his fingers against Indenuel’s temples.
“Just heal him, Theo. You don’t need to ask questions,” Navir said.
Tolomon chewed on his tongue, giving Navir a glare before turning away.
“High Elder Navir, this is bad,” Theo said.
“No questions, Theo, or we will find someone else,” Navir said.
Theo opened his eyes, frowning. “Sir?”
“You heard what I said,” Navir said.
Theo met Indenuel’s eyes. Indenuel was exhausted, no doubt, but he was worried for Theo. When Navir meant replaced, Indenuel doubted he meant bringing in a different person. He probably meant the replacement to be permanent. Judging by the way Tolomon was not meeting anyone’s eye, Indenuel had a feeling he was right.
Theo sighed, then continued with the healing, doing as much as he could. Tolomon took the key from Navir, unlocking his hands. Theo hissed as he saw Indenuel’s deeply bruised arms from the chains. He could barely lift them. Indenuel couldn’t focus as Theo pushed through the corruption to heal his arms. He was more concerned about what Navir said. Over a thousand. He’d already killed five hundred already, so he knew he was capable of it again. But was he capable of it with another five hundred soldiers aiming to kill him? He was supposed to survive this war. He was supposed to make it out alive, then stop the High Elders and their corruption. He felt like he was staring at his own mortality. He wasn’t going to survive.
Indenuel couldn’t stand. Theo was excused so Indenuel could drink his broth, heavily infused with the nutrients needed before his face was masked again and Theo healed his muscles, strengthening them enough for Tolomon to steady him on his feet. Theo was in and out four more times before Indenuel was able to make a short lap around the cell before collapsing, too weak to move. Tolomon, luckily, caught him.
“He needs bread. Give him an actual meal. The broth is only doing so much,” Tolomon said.
“It is what is required by law,” Navir said.
“In this one instance, High Elder Navir, please break such a law. He needs more,” Tolomon said, keeping him steady.
Navir glared but waved his hand. “Go on, Theo. See what they’re feeding the prisoners for dinner and see if you can get a plate.” Theo nodded and left as Tolomon picked Indenuel up and took him over to a chair. “Chain his hands. We don’t want him using pain.”
“He won’t use it, sir, I promise,” Tolomon said.
“Theo isn’t here, so you must chain his hands,” Navir said.
“I’m a healer, I’ll stop him if he uses it,” Tolomon said.
Navir laughed. “You? Your powers aren’t nearly that strong.”
“I assure you, Navir, Indenuel will not be able to use his pain while I am here. Leave him free for now. He’s suffered enough,” Tolomon said.
Another guard knocked on the door before bringing a washcloth and a basin. Navir nodded, pointing toward the table. Tolomon helped him over to it, and Indenuel did his best to wash his face and neck. When the guard left, Tolomon helped Indenuel take off his shirt. The moment it fell away, Dalius let out a gasp and backed away, eyes wide. Indenuel looked down, saw the deep red color of the mark. Not only that, but there were thin tendrils of black feeding into the mark. Navir, unlike Dalius, took a step closer to look. Tolomon was blinking back tears but continued to help him clean the vomit on his torso.
“Dalius, can you get what you can from it?” Navir asked.
Dalius stared, wide eyed, before moving forward. He knelt, touching the marks each individually before he started to pull. Indenuel growled, and faster than he ever thought possible, he grabbed Dalius’ wrists.
“Don’t you dare touch my Master’s marks you sinner!”
It was a demon. A demon somehow using Indenuel’s voice to say that. Tolomon grabbed Indenuel’s wrist, easily breaking the grip and making him drop Dalius’ hand. Indenuel was panting, eyes wide as Dalius backed away, paler than before as Tolomon kept Indenuel’s wrist in his grip, watching him carefully.
“I… that wasn’t me. I don’t know… I didn’t…” Indenuel said.
“I know,” Navir said, still staring at the marks.
“I don’t know how many more of these battles I can do,” Indenuel said, tears coming to his eyes he desperately tried to hide.
“You are only going to do one more. But Kiam doesn’t need to know that. Understood?” Navir asked.
Indenuel nodded. “Understood.”
The dinner plate was brought in, and Indenuel was covered again before he took his plate and inhaled it. Theo healed him. Indenuel was given another dinner plate before Theo again worked on strengthening him some more. When Indenuel was at last standing in the middle of the cell with no help, Theo was excused, but not before giving one final glance in Indenuel’s direction before walking up the stairs.
“Five hundred more. They are breaking, Indenuel. You have already killed so many that their army has already been rattled by this entire thing. I know this is it. We’re going to get it. And then you can rest,” Navir said.
Indenuel stared at the wall of the cell. “I’m going to die, aren’t I.”
Navir said nothing for a moment. “You might. Kiam might overpower you. But you most definitely will if you sell your soul. Tolomon will not hesitate to follow my orders. So don’t sell your soul.” Navir took a step closer. “In fact, just as an added measure of security, just in case you think you can beat Tolomon, let me assure you right now. I know exactly where those children of yours are. I know their class schedule. I know the city they’re living in. I know the rooms where they sleep, and I know what they are doing, right at this moment. You, with your sold soul may be fast, but a team of Graduates will be faster. That I can guarantee. Keep your marks red, and those children won’t die.”
Indenuel’s fingers twitched as the image of his dream returned. He felt the buildup of pain in his wrists, felt the weather power reach for nothing in the sky. The temperature in the room dropped considerably. Navir smirked. “I’m glad you understand.”
“Damn you, Navir,” Indenuel said.
Navir turned around. “I’ll take your word for it. You would be the most acquainted with what it takes to get to Hell. I assume Tolomon knows how to get out of the dungeon and over the wall. It’s not much farther after that.”
The door closed, leaving him and Tolomon alone. Tolomon was quiet. “Indenuel?”
He rolled his head around his neck. “I need a drink first.” Tolomon nodded, pouring him another drink. Indenuel took a drink, walking away from Tolomon so he didn’t notice how much of his spit entered the cup before he handed it to him. “You better drink yourself. We have a bit of a journey ahead of us.”
Tolomon took it and barely took a sip when his entire face changed. He spat the water back into the cup, but it was clearly too late.
“Shit,” Tolomon said, already on his knees. “Dammit, Indenuel.” He was trying to stay awake, and Indenuel simply waited. Waited for Tolomon to stop struggling.
“I’m sorry,” Indenuel said.
Tolomon groaned, then collapsed on the ground, fast asleep. Indenuel left the dungeon cell and headed up the stairs. He realized if he died in this battle, Tolomon might never wake up. There would be no one there to help him. But it was simply an added incentive to survive the battle. He would do everything in his power to make sure Tolomon woke up.