RE: Monarch

Chapter 32: Enclave II

Chapter 32: Enclave II

I wasnt expecting them to welcome me with open arms, but truth be told, I also wasnt expecting to be put into chains. Some part of me had assumed my little display would buy me a vestigial fragment of good will, but so far, all it had won me was my life and a pair of manacles. I flexed my fingers experimentally, trying to keep my circulation going. They were similar to the sort of bonds the rangers used for the most part, but where they differed was in the set of complex metal rings and rods designed to keep fingers separated. That, combined with the hieroglyphic runes carved into the bands, made it clear this device was some sort of anti magician counter-measure.

That was fine. Id have to be a damn fool to even consider trying to use my power now anyway.

Maya had raised hell, but there was only so much she could do. Her family was not particularly influential, from what I understood, and any authority she might have held was apparently vastly stunted by the threat of the Tyrant Kings thirteen-year-old son. If their intent was to humiliate and provoke me, I would not rise to the bait. We approached the portal.

Hold your breath, Maya whispered, it can be disorienting.

I had thought the entering the portal would feel electrical, like stepping into a tunnel filled with static electricity. Instead, it felt like walking through viscous gel. It tugged at my hair and my skin, as if intending to reject me altogether, the barrier stretched until it snapped. There was a moment of disorienting weightlessness. Then, for lack of a better word, we landed.

And I realized how poorly researched all the stories of the Infernal Enclave had been. The words so often ascribed to it, a large cave, were almost hysterically reductive. Imagine for a moment, if you will, a moderately wealthy coastal city, littered with shanties and small houses on the outskirts, building eventually to larger houses and small buildings, all built up in an imperfect semi-circle around the ocean. But instead of an ocean, there was a massive black chasm going down further than the eye could see. There was no sky, just a ceiling made of rock a mile up, the whole city incased in a geological dome. Most spectacular of all was the massive, fiery sphere of light towards the vertex of the convex dome, serving as a miniature sun.

Elphion, I said, in awe.

Yes. The sense of wonder never really goes away, Maya gazed at our surroundings, a touch of nostalgia in her voice. Shed been with Barion for years, it must have been a relief to be home. I was happy for her, though a bit jealous.

A guard at my back shoved me forward. Keep it moving, human. It was typical guard machismo. He couldnt have known his actions would have such drastic repercussions. I felt a fiery tear in my chest it felt like something was knocked loose. My vision slowly faded to black. The last thing I saw was Maya kneeling over me, her white eyes awash in regret.

I floated in the dark. The great beast was nearby, but it hadnt spotted me yet. From somewhere above me, voices spoke.

I told them he was sick, they didnt listen

were you thinking bringing him

the soul damagehe saved my life. More than once. I owe him

Foolish girl. No one owes anyone this. Do you know what will happen to you if

I do not care. I invoked the

too young to be making this decision. It cannot be taken back. You will regret

please. Im begging you

so be it. But there is a something you must do

The voices faded to nothing. I floated in the dark for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, the sensation of having a body returned to me. Though I floated weightless, I could feel my hands, my legs, my face. My mind wandered. I thought of Lillian. The way the sun dappled her face, her hair, as she toiled in the workshop. She appeared before me, floating around in the nothingness. Little more than a hallucinated specter of longing, but one I wanted dearly to be real.

Im sorry.

For what? She asked. The sound echoed.

You were the first person I wanted to see. Just seeing you alive again would mean everything to me.

Yes, Lillian said. Her melodic voice took on a mournful note. You have changed. The Cairn I knew would have moved heaven and earth to come back to me, Uskar be damned.

No. I shook my head. No. Thats wrong. Im still me.

Are you truly?

I cringed.

It wasnt a criticism my love. Just an observation. Lillian hugged me from behind, and I ached. She spoke softly into my ear. I will always be nothing more than the apothecarys daughter. I cannot change my fate. You, on the other hand, have changed so much, in such a short time, while I am destined to remain the same. I cannot help you in this struggle. You must know that.

Wed had many conversations like this, ponderous talks that toyed with the philosophical. But none had cut me so deeply.

No, I said vehemently. I cannot believe that. I will not believe that. With adequate power and strength, it would be enough just to have you at my side.

Power warps, my love. More than even death. Power lures good people to darkness.

Then what would you have me do? I asked, frustrated.

That would be telling. Lillian gazed at me sadly. She began to drift away. I reached out for her and my hand phased through her wrist. Her outline grew fainter and fainter, melding into the black.

From somewhere in the dark, I heard her voice one final time.

How much more will you change before the end?

I awoke, blinking tears out of my eyes. No matter how real it felt, I told myself, it was just a dream. My mind trying to tackle unprocessed emotions. I sat up slowly, gingerly feeling at my chest. The pain was gone. I briefly remembered Maya speaking to someone. A doctor, perhaps? It had to be.

Slowly, I sat up, taking in the room. It looked a lot like a glass box, only the glass was black, and cool to the touch. It was well lit, but there were no obvious torches or lumen lamps. Rather, the light seemed to shine through two panels in the high ceiling. There were no windows or doors, and the entire room was bare save a worn mattress shoved into the corner and a bucket.

Ah. This wasnt a medical facility. This was a prison.

I frowned. Something had gone terribly wrong. I doubted Maya would have led me to this place if she had any inclination that this might happen. As if on cue, I heard her voice faintly. I moved towards the side of the room the sound was coming from and pressed my ear against the wall. It was too faint to make out the words, but that was definitely her. It sounded like she was yelling at the top of her lungs, her voice peaking.

It wasnt a great sign for my future endeavors with the infernals. Experimentally, I reached out my hand and called the spark. It came, but only for a moment before the light choked and died. A section of the glass beneath my feet glowed purple.

Huh.

I stood on the mattress and called the spark again. This time, the section of wall closest to me glowed, though it took slightly longer to extinguish. So physical contact was irrelevant.

There were no bars to file, no locks to pick, and magic was effectively useless. This was likely the sort of holding cell Barion would have literally killed for.

I experimented for a bit longer. Banged on the walls and floor, looking for any structural. And yes, I set my mattress on fire. The flame extinguished almost instantly, accomplishing nothing more than the acrid smell of burnt fabric lingering within the cell.

Having exhausted all possible avenues, I laid down and went to sleep.

I woke up again, feeling frustrated and angry. This was the tenth time Id slept. I had no idea how many days it had been because the lighting never changed. Some time had passed for certain, my clothes were dirty and I smelled like I hadnt showered in a while, but certain things simply didnt function the same way they did on the outside. For one thing, I was growing increasingly paranoid that my bucket was emptying itself. Id made use of it a number of times, and after a few uses, Id always find it empty and spotless. It was possibly someone snuck in to change it while I slept, but considering how light of a sleeper I was, combined with utter silence of the cell.

Then there was the fact that they werent feeding me. No one had brought me food or water, not even once. But the baffling part of it was, I wasnt hungry or thirsty. Dont get me wrong, I missed food. I found myself fantasizing about all sorts of grilled meats, recalling Desirics banquet with such vividness that I began to salivate. But the desire for food and water never turned into actual hunger and thirst. There were no stomach pains or dryness in my mouth and throat. Everything was consistently normal.

It was around this time I began to realize I was being subjected to a subtle form of torture. It was clever, really, purely psychological rather than the atrocities that occurred within the Whitefall dungeons, but torture nonetheless. Their goal, I guessed, was to isolate me from anything that approached a routine. It was working. The walls felt like they were growing smaller, millimeters at a time.

The only break from this was every five to ten sleeps, when it would rain in my cell. Only in the center. I had to scramble to undress as it would last mere minutes at a time, though it could have been much longer or shorter. My sense of time was growing perpetually more skewed.

I started to exercise myself, to the best of my ability. Cephur had taught me a number of strength training exercises. I jogged in place, did pushups, eventually graduated to more complicated maneuvers out of boredom, such as handstands against the wall. I found that the more I tired myself out, the better I slept.

This went on for some time, before Annette walked through the cell wall. I stared at her. She looked exactly like she did the night of the coronation. It couldnt be real. Could it?

Annette? Is that you?

She caught fire and I staggered backward. Annette stared at me, her eyes accusing as she faded into nothingness. Even my hallucinations couldnt be bothered to hold a conversation. I grunted and returned to my jog.

It felt like years, but I learned later it was closer to three weeks before a section of the wall slid open and a man finally entered. I stood, rising from my mattress. My anger at being jailed had almost dissipated entirely. Instead I had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him to make sure he was real.

The infernal was blue-skinned and older. He had a kind face, though I had learned quite thoroughly not to trust such impressions. His eyes matched his skin, deep and insightful. The horns on his head were much larger than the average infernal, colored pale white instead of the typical black. Perhaps he was just old. Still, he walked with a strange, measured grace. The door slid shut behind him. He sat down cross-legged in front of me, and wordlessly, I joined him. Maybe it sounds pathetic, but I was just happy for the company.

He seemed to finish studying me, coming wordlessly to a conclusion, then looked around the room in distaste. I must apologize for my fellows, princeling. Even in their fear, they are spiteful. His eyes returned to me. Still, you have some fascinating friends, for them to pull me from the depths of the sanctum.

The term was unfamiliar to me, but I took it to mean that Maya came through. Of course she did.

I, I, I I stopped, suddenly, clamping down on the stutter in irritation. There was this sudden, irrational fear that if I did not speak to him properly, he might leave. Sorry.

Take your time. Spending time in a magus cell is hard on anyone, especially a child. He said the last part with a snort of derision. He looked around conspiratorially. Call me Morthus. And, dont tell anyone, but I snuck in some contraband.

He pulled a bag from within his robes, and somehow I could identify the scent immediately. Freshly roasted nuts. My mouth salivated immediately and I had to swallow the sudden flood of it. He reached out to hand it to me. His nails were long and black.

And on his arm, branded into the liver-spotted skin, was the symbol of metamorphosis.