The Endless Day

A Short on a Sadarren Prisoner

Rumors spread wildly through the Springwood Palace about the new prisoner. A beaked mask, deathly pale black skin, and a stench of death. They all feared if he was a mere Nox cultist or part of their more established Arkonian Order. The wars we had with them long ago justifies our fear. Our fae home is blighted and this material world of Florenelle must suffice while we cleanse the horrific Arkonian Plague.

Though, my own curiosity peaked. I'm the son of Duke Windell. That reasoning alone was enough for me to at most get a talk with the prisoner.

Down the steps, I found him. He was alone, sitting on a stool as he looked out the window with a deep fascination. Pale hands gripped the iron bars as a gold sunset illuminated his gaunt face. His ears were long like mine, showing us his heritage as a fellow "cousin" as elves of different origin like to say. His stark black hair was long, drooping down just past his shoulders.

By the time I was just outside his cell door, he spoke up with a raspy voice, "I know you're there. What do you want, filth?"

"I came to see if it was true a sadarren prisoner is being held here."

He turned his face to me, giving an uncanny smirk with wide eyes, "Perhaps I am."

I persisted, "Everyone is uneasy about you, not me. I want to know more. Why is a Sadarren here?"

He stood up and pointed a hand to the iron-barred window, "That is ultimately why."

"Is it for freedom?"

The prisoner shook his head with a grin, "For the day to end!"

I blinked a bit at the absurd motive, "I... don't understand."

Those deep and dark brown eyes grew wide, "The Fell... We can't take it there no more... We want out!"

"Explain it to me. All of it."

Those eyes of his became fearful as they darted left and right, "Those oldest among us recall a time when the sun shown its warmth afrom above. It meant we were not always doomed to live in a land where heinous whispers creep in our skulls to drain hope from our soul." His eyes stared straight forward, not really looking at anything, "It's all one very bad day that will not end!"

Sadarren were banished to the Fell as a consequence of losing the old Necromantic War but that was nearly 1,700 years ago when we destroyed ourselves back to using sticks and stones. Surely old grievances should be paid by now. It's redundant to keep these old punishments going on for those who never took part.

"Why don't all sadarren gather up and go on a mass exodus out of there?" I asked.

He stood up and his pale white hand pointed at me. Hatred seethed from his bitter expression, "BECAUSE OF YOU!" He shouted.

All fell silent. Only his erratic breathing filled the air.

"Because of you are we trapped or brought back to that cesspit of a world!" He grinned with glee once he tried getting his composure back, "That is why Arkengrath must return. He will reward us for restoring him by taking us all out of the Fell! When he returns, you can't stop us anymore. All of us shall live the happy lives we have wanted! The best part," he paused just to sneer at me, "is necromancy. We will use his teachings to extend our lives to take back the years you stole from us!"

I backed up a bit, feeling confused. Father never told me about such details of sadarren banishment. He made it seemed they preferred it there instead. Then again, there is a lot to take in on how one could even fathom fixing this problem.

I looked up when the sadarren gasped, looking behind me. Turning around, my father stood behind me, "I've been looking for you. I had hoped it was somewhere more pleasant than here."