Dalius hesitated, then turned around, closing the door. Indenuel still couldn’t bring himself to look at Martin. He continued to lean against the table he would soon be chained to. Martin walked over to a basket, gathering some more food on a plate before handing it to him.
“Eat, my boy. You still look awful.” Indenuel took the plate, barely looking at Martin. He couldn’t deny that he was still starving. Theo pulling the nutrients from him made it feel like he already digested most of the food. Sara’s food honestly never tasted so good.
“Why did you do it?” Martin asked.
“I didn’t,” Indenuel said, still not looking at him.
Martin rubbed his forehead. “I meant the soldiers, my boy. The mark on your chest. Why would you risk your soul for something so dangerous?”
“Isn’t that what’s expected of soldiers during war?” Indenuel asked, eating his potatoes.
Martin shook his head. “Not like this. Not the dangers of the devil himself.”
“To have a war is to invite the devil to begin with, wouldn’t you agree?” Indenuel asked.
Martin stared at him, shocked. “Of course not. There are good reasons to go to war.”
“Protecting what is ours,” Indenuel said. “Our way of life is threatened. We need to protect our country. And do it by any means necessary.” Indenuel finished his plate, giving it back to Martin. “Did I sum up war for you?”
Martin stared at Indenuel, taking the plate back. “You never play with the devil’s bag of tricks.”
“Kiam did. Corruptive means to torture Inessa. Grey death. Even if you didn’t use any actual corruptive means, don’t forget there are still the Oraminian slaves breaking themselves so you can have the crops needed for the men. Bleeding Oramin, Zimoro, and Dengria dry to keep your power,” Indenuel said.
Martin handed the plate to Tolomon, who put it back. “Not like this. Not your soul on the line.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Indenuel asked, a slight coolness to his voice.
Martin sighed. Indenuel straightened, walking around. He tried to get used to his legs, knowing he’d be chained up again soon. His mind still believed he needed to prepare to fight, but he kept easing it, comforting it. He sprinted from battle to battle, he almost forgot weeks had gone by for the rest of the world.
“Will it? You honestly think you’ll be able to have a conversation with the Grand Empress herself? You think you’ll be able to negotiate peace between our two countries all the while hiding that mark on your chest?” Martin asked.
“I guess we’ll find out. I protected the city. I saved the army. Or at least what remained of them.” Indenuel felt the pain again of Captain Luiz, wondering if his funeral had already happened.
“You murdered with the strength of the devil,” Martin said, his voice rising in worry. “What can I say to make you understand? You let him come into your life. Again. You used his power to such a degree that it will take a year to get his mark off your chest. You sent well over a thousand men to the afterlife. This is wrong, Indenuel.”
“Kiam was too strong. They were coming right for us. What did you expect me to do? Rot in this dungeon while the city burned above me?” Indenuel asked.
Martin set his jaw, studying Indenuel carefully. He glared back, knowing for certain that the worst had already happened. It was Nathaniel who he felt terrified to discover the mark, not Martin.
“Indenuel,” Martin started to say. “We need to talk about something else. To talk about the root of the problem.”
“Which is?” Indenuel asked.
“We’ve never had a chance to talk about what happened in the High Elder’s library.”
Indenuel’s laugh was short and cold as he folded his arms. “Really, Martin?”
“Yes, really. That’s what stemmed this anger you have toward me. We need to resolve it if we’re going to get anything done,” Martin said.
“Great. Fine. Let’s talk about it,” Indenuel said. “Would you like me chained up while we talk? Would you feel better? It’s what everyone else does in this cell.”
“No, no of course not. Just promise me you won’t get angry,” Martin said.
“I can’t promise anything of the sort. You are a liar and a hypocrite. You look away when other people get murdered, so clearly you should have no problem looking the other way while I solve your problems in the best way I know how,” Indenuel said.
Martin physically recoiled, and Indenuel had no idea why he reacted in such a way. “Indenuel, my boy, please.” Indenuel glared, before closing his eyes and walking away, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. Truly. There are many things the High Elders do that I go along with, but not anymore. This whole thing has shaken me, and I know my actions have hurt you. We betrayed you by lying about your parentage.”
Indenuel continued to pace. “You should have told me.”
“It was Dalius’ decision to-” Indenuel glared at him, and he sighed. “You’re right. I should have.”
“Does Sara know?” Indenuel asked.
Martin held his gaze for a while before he tore it away. “No. No she doesn’t.”
“You’ve been lying to her too?” Indenuel asked.
“Yes, I have. And I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one you should apologize to. When do you plan on telling her?” Indenuel asked. Martin said nothing, watching Indenuel pace. “Were you ever planning on telling her?”
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“Eventually, yes,” Martin said.
Indenuel gave another cold laugh. “So repentant of you.”
“Sounds like we’re similar in that,” Martin said.
“At least I know I’m going to hell.”
“I am too.” Indenuel frowned, turning to face him in curiosity. “I betrayed you. I cut you deeply. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me to.”
He said it.
He said the words in Cristoval’s prophecy.
He’s going to try and kill you.
Stay on your guard.
Indenuel winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right,” was all he managed to say.
“I’m sorry you felt you had to do this,” Martin said, touching his shoulder, pointing at his chest. Indenuel instinctively took a step back, suspicious. “We can work on it together, though. One of the steps is forgiving me.”
Indenuel narrowed his eyes.
Forgiving is what helped Inessa heal your marks.
Martin is trying to do the same thing.
Martin knows how to heal the marks and is trying to trick you into it.
He doesn’t care about your soul, he cares about keeping his own sins secret.
He’s trying to get you to like him again so you can keep more of his secrets.
Tolomon appeared at Martin’s side, watching Indenuel carefully.
“Is one of the steps of healing my marks forgiving you?” Indenuel asked.
“It certainly would help. The resentment you have will continue to fester, and it does not help with the-”
“Stop… sermonizing me.” Indenuel wasn’t even sure that was a word. “Stop telling me to do better when you’re just as awful. Stop being so damn hypocritical.”
Martin frowned. “Indenuel-”
“No. No, you’ve turned the other way when other people were killed. When women and children were killed. At least the men I killed were soldiers and willing to take that risk.” The frown on Martin’s face deepened. He about said something when Indenuel continued talking, growing in anger. “So yes, Martin. I have resentment toward you. In fact, I’m angry at you. Honestly, I hate you.”
Martin lifted his hands. “That’s understandable, my boy. Truly, it is.”
“Why did you want me to forgive you? Is it really because you assume it’ll heal my marks? Don’t bother lying to me.”
Martin hesitated. “I had a theory. A theory that if you forgave me, it would bring my back my powers as well.”
Indenuel shook his head, the anger growing. “That is so like you. Pretending it’s for my best interest, when really, it’s for yours.”
“No, Indenuel. You’ve got it all wrong. Even if my powers never returned, I want these marks off you as fast as possible. I tried to think of a way they-”
“Yeah, it will probably work. If I forgave you,” Indenuel sneered. “When I was with In-” He froze, the anger still visible on his face, but realizing he couldn’t trust Martin with the truth.
Martin rubbed his face. “I know you slept with her. That much was obvious to me.”
“I deny it,” Indenuel muttered.
Martin shook his head. “Which you are able to do. Which means I will be watching my own son get whipped in the town square.”
“You and the other High Elders should be the ones getting that punishment,” Indenuel said.
“I know I’ve hurt you too deeply to ask you to trust me, but I need you to understand this whole experience has given me time to pause and reflect. To try and be a better man.”
Indenuel laughed. “Well, that’s nice. You always know exactly what to say, but you never actually have anything to back it up. None of your family know you sleep with other women. Santollia still believes the Graduates are simply bodyguards or soldiers, not a league of secret assassins. And the High Elders will become the most powerful men in the entire world thanks to me. There is nothing that proves you’ve done anything to be better. You only want me to forgive you so you can get your powers back. I say you need to stay this humble for the rest of your life.”
Martin’s jaw was set. “It’s not going to be for the rest of my life. I will spend a decade getting my power back. We must always be in pursuit of-”
“Stop treating me like I’m a willfully obedient member of your congregation! You speak of a compassionate God when it comes to your own sins but warn of the vengeful and vindictive God when you talk about other’s mistakes. Not only that, but you’ve been lying about God from the beginning!”
Martin glanced at Tolomon nervously. “You can’t be talking about that outside the library.”
“Oh yes I can!” Indenuel shouted. “You all pretend about this God who watches over us when really, They never have! The Gods are dead, and the people deserve to know how alone we all are. Stop hiding your sins and pretending the Gods care! They never have and They never will!”
Indenuel gestured toward Martin in that moment. He hadn’t realized how dangerous his anger had gotten, but Tolomon clearly had. When Indenuel pointed, the corruptive pain had escaped from his wrist. Tolomon appeared in front of Martin, grabbing Indenuel’s wrist to keep it pointed toward his own chest as a flood of ooze hit him. Indenuel realized too late what had happened. He forced the pain to stop, his eyes widening as Tolomon closed his eyes and took it. Indenuel broke out of Tolomon’s grip, grabbing his own wrist, the anger immediately disappearing.
Tolomon opened his eyes as blood trickled down his cheeks like tears. Indenuel felt his chest constrict before he reacted, grabbing all the corruption and pulling it out of his brain.
“Guards! To me now!” Martin shouted.
Tolomon coughed, blood hitting Indenuel’s face. He wobbled dangerously, grabbing Indenuel’s shoulder. “Stubborn… ass,” he mumbled as blood ran down his nose.
“No, no, no,” Indenuel said, catching his friend as he started to fall forward. “No! Tolomon, no!” His bodyguard collapsed to the ground, taking Indenuel with him. He grabbed his temples, trying to heal him, but he hadn’t been able to heal anyone in weeks. Indenuel went back to keeping the corruption contained in his heart. A heart he knew was swiftly fading.
“Get Theo here now!” Martin shouted at the guards entering the room. “Heal Tolomon as best you can! He’s still breathing, he can still make it!”
Indenuel started to sob. “It was an accident. An accident I swear! I didn’t mean it!”
“Leave Indenuel alone. He’s keeping the corruption contained,” Martin said as the guards moved to grab him.
“I’m sorry! Shit, I’m so sorry!” Indenuel cried. Tolomon’s heart stopped beating, the corruption seeping into his bloodstream.
“Tolomon has the healing power himself,” Martin said, kneeling next to the three guards trying to heal Tolomon. “Do you sense it in him? The instinct should be there to block the corruption. Feed the man more of your power. Let him borrow all you can to keep the corruption from destroying his brain.” Martin talked calmly, in complete command. The guards nodded, straining with their own power. Indenuel kept his hands steady, trying to do the least damage possible by letting the corruption spread so it wasn’t focused on his heart. He closed his eyes, willing Tolomon to live.
Theo almost tripped into the room, running to Tolomon’s side. The entire room glowed with Theo’s golden shield as he pushed it first through Tolomon’s head and down his entire body, the shield collecting most of the corruption Indenuel held at bay and scooping it out of his body.
“Keep your hands on his forehead. I didn’t get all of it. Keep feeding him power,” Theo said.
Theo’s shield went through him twice more before Indenuel no longer felt the corruption. He collapsed to his knees, sobbing. The guards grabbed him, pinning his wrists on his arms before chaining them together. Theo moved to Tolomon’s temples, feeding him with the power Indenuel no longer had as Tolomon breathed more steadily. The guards placed Indenuel on the table, forcing the metal plate in his mouth before locking the mask. They moved to chain him to the table.
Theo dropped his hands. “He’ll be alright.” Indenuel sobbed in relief, the mask muffling it all as he closed his eyes. “He needs rest. He’ll still have quite the headache when he wakes up.”
Martin nodded. “Do you have a place in your home he can rest?”
“I do, yes. I’ll alert my servants to get it ready by the time we arrive,” Theo said.
“You four, stay here with Indenuel,” Martin said as two other guards lifted Tolomon. Indenuel felt a hand on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes enough to see Martin there. “He’s going to be just fine. I know you didn’t mean it, and he knew it, too. He’s alive. It was an accident. You helped save his life. He’s going to be fine.”
Indenuel nodded, tears still streaming down his face as he closed his eyes again as the guards carried Tolomon out of the dungeon.