Chapter 37
November 21st, 2021
Even though he knew it was only temporary, even though he knew that Lelia would take care of everything and not only save Zechariah's life from the law, but also secure his future and provide him an education and everything else that goes along with it, watching the door shut, and the lock click into place, casting him into darkness with naught but a bed and a bucket, Zechariah's heart dropped into his stomach. There is something visceral, about being detained, and confined, no matter what the reason was, that digs into your mind, and the fear creeps forth along with the shadows of the dark walls. It sits in the heart, and as the moments pass into unseen rises and falls of the sun, the mind cannot help but roam wildly through the worst possible outcomes.
What if he had been deceived? What if Lelia was truly still furious with with him for ruining her life, and this was all a game to punish him, and to get revenge on him? What if all he was was the bargaining chip that she needed to get back into the good graces of the courts, and that she would sell out a traitor and a murderer to redeem her own house? What if...
Zechariah shook his head and ran a hand through his long and unkempt hair. He had to stop thinking like this, but it was almost impossible to do so when he was trapped in a dark room with nothing but his thoughts and his fears. Particularly his fears of the demons that always seemed to lurk in the shadows. However, since his last encounter with them, he hadn't felt nearly the same level of terror of the night, nor the sense that he was constantly being watched. Perhaps they had left him? Or perhaps they were simply biding their time, and plotting some horrific moment to reveal themselves again and punish him for fighting them.
There he went again, thinking about the worst things. He sighed, leaning back against the wall and wished desperately that they had managed to find a room with just a small window. The darkness was just so mind numbingly oppressive. He understood why they gave him no light. A flame would be a liability for a dangerous prisoner, and as they had to keep up the best pretenses they could until things were sorted out, he had to suffer as a prisoner might. She didn't think there would be any who would betray her in her own home, but Lelia hadn't wanted to risk further scrutiny. So there he sat, in darkness most miserable, with a guard stationed by his door to ensure no one would come in or out. The guard had also been advised to not speak to Zechariah for the duration of his imprisonment.
Sighing, Zechariah reached around till he found the bucket in the darkness. Kneeling, he undid the laces on the front of his trousers, and pulled out his penis, relieving himself in the bucket. It was strange to piss in the darkness, unable to see if you were doing it right or not, but he felt his way through it and managed without making a mess. Giving himself a shake, he tucked away his member before wiping his hands habitually on the back of his trousers. Lacing up the front he found the bed and flopped down on it. If he was going to get lost in his own mind, might as well be as comfortable as possible while he did so.
"Come in Gerb." Lelia said softly as he peaked his head in around the corner of her chambers. She was robbed in her usual Priestess' robes, and reclining upon cushions out on her open windowed balcony. The breeze from the Turmoilt and the Artery was steady and cool, and the view looked out over almost half the city, the ports easily visible from her vantage. She sat quietly and observed the bustling of the people, the coming and going, the hauling of goods and the chatting of friendly neighbors, all from this secluded sanctuary of isolation.
Thump, thump, thump, Gerb hopped unaided by a crutch across the room, passing silken draped bed, ornate furniture, and a carpet so lush and rich that Gerb unconsciously hopped around it, rather than risking trampling it with his large and heavy step. He himself was wearing simply grey linens, shirt tucked loosely into trousers the front of which hung upon, laces undone to let more of the sea breeze in. He no longer stank. Since coming to reside in Lelia's manor, he had been bathed and groomed. His hair was cut short, and his beard trimmed. Even his nails had been tended to. Apparently, Lelia had a servant primarily for maintaining her own finger nails, but also the nails of any in the house who required or requested it. He had to admit, reluctantly, that she was good. His nails had never looked so fine in his life.
Gerb came to stand at the entrance of the balcony, leaning against the wall with one hand, the other upon his hip as he breathed deeply. It was getting easier to travel around without his crutch but it was still quite an effort. "You wanted to see me?"
Lelia turned to catch his gaze and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, before turning back to the vista before her. "You didn't address me as Mistress."
"As I recall, I'm only required to do so in the company of others." Gerb said leaning against the wall with his back and folding his arms across his chest. "Or has that changed without my knowing?"
Lelia shook her head lightly. "No, you are right. Though your lack of deference concerns me, and causes me to fear that you may not be controlled enough in public either."
Gerb snorted in disdain. "Please. You needn't worry about my control. Now why did you call me here?"
Lelia sighed and rolled over, wincing as her foot pained her. She would never walk again, but the bones were still causing her great pain if jostled. She leaned back and rested her head upon a hand, the other idly playing with a strip of ribbon from her dress. "I need more information from you. I know, you are a private man who distrusts the nobility, but in order to best serve your own interests and that of even Zechariah as a friend and associate of yours, I need to know more about your past."
Gerb sighed heavily and scowled. "Why? What does knowing my past do for you or aid me?"
"I fear that the noble family of the man you killed may be at court. At the very best, they don't recognize you, and we can conduct our business in peace. At worst...they try to demand retribution for the death of their family member, or try to exact revenge on their own. I need to know who we're dealing with, in order to better navigate the courts, who may support us, who may oppose us."
"Fuck all the divines." Gerb cursed angrily. "It wasn't even my fault! The bastard little shit of a noble got himself killed. He came against me in a blood fight! What did he expect!" Gerb said his voice rising. "I didn't even know he was a noble till the guards came knocking. The little shit died like a bitch, and has plagued my life ever since even in death!"
"I'm sorry Gerb. Truly I am. It was an injustice that was forced upon you, but please calm down. Getting angry about it now doesn't help anyone." Lelia said, trying to sooth him, and gesturing to some cushions for him to rest upon. He ignored her gesture and instead hopped over to the railing. He gripped it hard, knuckles white, and felt like he might rip the stone apart with his bare hands. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and leaned against the rails. Once he seemed to have quieted down, Lelia continued asking, "Who was it Gerb? Who did you kill?"
"I'm honestly surprised you don't know. Gossip of a noble dying in the blood pits didn't reach your ear?" Gerb asked turning back around and leaning against the rails.
Lelia shifted her position again, more carefully this time, as she shook her head. "I was young at the time, and besides, nobles don't like to stain their name. Probably claimed an accident death, or training death or something, to cover up the shame of dying in 'blood pits'."
Gerb shook his head in disgust. "Nobles." He said as though it were a curse unto it's own. He ground his teeth, before finally saying, "Zulad. Selemoss Zulad the second." He said looking down as, for the first time in many revolutions, the name of his most hated man was uttered by his own lips.
Lelia's eyes widened. "Selemoss Zulad?" She repeated. "Commander of the Armada, Selemoss Zulad?"
"The one and only." Gerb said nodding as he scratched the back of his short cut hair. "Get now why I don't talk about it much?"
Lelia ran a hand through her hair, before pulling herself up into a more seated position. "He's in charge of the whole Uthan Armada, not to mention the security of Uthar itself. He's one of the High King's most trusted advisors."
"Yeah. I know." Gerb said flatly. "Why do you think I was so adamant I would die upon returning to Uthar? See my family before I get caught and executed. Honestly, I don't think this whole slavery ploy is going to save my ass."
"I'm sorry." Lelia said bewildered. "This is worse than I thought."
Gerb nodded. "I know. Look, you've been kind enough to me since I've met you. Hells, you've been nice to me despite knowing me. Best thing for you to do, burn that writ of ownership, I'll go find my family and spend what time I can with them before I get executed. It's the best thing for all of us involved. Save Zech. He's a good lad. Dumb as a rock and useless as shit, but a good lad none the less. Take care of him for me."
"No." Lelia said softly, but firmly. "Well, yes but no. You can look after him to. I'm not burning the writ."
"Then you're as stupid as he is." Gerb said bluntly as he pushed himself off the rails getting ready to leave.
"Shut up and lean back against the rails." Lelia ordered, and was pleased to see Gerb pause, taken aback at the forcefulness by which she ordered. Hesitantly, he eased himself back to resting against the rails. "Now, you listen up. My writ is signed and sealed. Although your punishment is yet to be determined, by law, I already own you. The only thing that can change that is his Excellency, and I do not believe he will override my writ of ownership. We may have to fend off revenge in other forms, but I do not believe you will be executed by the courts. So don't count your drops before all the bets are placed. Understand?"
Gerb grunted as he crossed his arms. He thought for a bit, before nodding lightly. "Yes, 'Mistress'." He said almost mockingly emphasizing the honorific. "Then what else do you need of me?"
"Find your family." Lelia instructed. "Get the Captain to help you, and bring them to my mansion if they wish to come. Keep a low profile. The Gate Lieutenant didn't seem to fully recognize you so hopefully neither will the common soldier. But someone is bound to recognize or find you eventually. And if they find you, they'll undoubtedly inform King Zulad and then you're family will certainly be in grave danger. So find them, and bring them to me where I might also protect them. Don't forget to inform them of my offer of slavery. They will not be subject to your punishment. Your crimes fall upon your shoulders, so regardless of what you must suffer, your family should be able to enter my home as slaves without a punishment clause in their writ. Also, do you believe your old contacts in the underground would be amiable to your return?"
Gerb's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he eyed her. "Why do you ask?"
"The underground and criminal usually have good control of crime in Uthar. Undoubtedly other nobles are already utilizing their own spies and contacts in the underground. It's risky, but if we're able to get some information about the deaths that have been going on here in Uthar, it may help our cause, as well as, if you know people whom you would trust, they may be able to help defend us against attacks of retribution that King Zulad might try and employ."
Gerb grunted in surprise. "You know Mistress, you really do keep surprising me. It's not a half bad idea. I know of a few who...might be amiable to seeing me again. I'll do my best gain their protection without incriminating yourself fin the process."
"Good, then go Gerb, and act quickly. We may not have much time before we are summoned before the courts. Already, my request for an audience is in. It was impossible to slow it down as a cart full of dead soldiers is usually a rather high priority for his Excellency."
"Then I will depart immediately." Gerb said bowing admirably well on one leg. "Farewell Mistress and, though you probably do not need the reminder, watch your back carefully."
"May Aleen preserve you Gerb." Lelia said, wishing him farewell, as she watched him hop from her room.
November 22nd, 2021
November 22nd, 2021
"No! I won't let you!" Zechariah shouted swinging his stick around angrily, the crisp winter air biting his lungs as she breathed deeply, attacking the shadows.
"Won't let us?" The shadows laughed. "You can't even touch us. Tell us little Zechariah, how do you plan on even inconveniencing us?"
"Zechariah." One of the shadows spat in disdain. "What a weak name for such a weak boy."
"He must be so disappointed with this one. He is far too weak for His purpose." One shadow said with an air of resignation.
"Perhaps this one just needs the right amount of encouragement." The second shadow said with a featureless grin. As it did so, it conjured into it's formless and outstretched hand a black flame. One that was as dark as a starless night, and it crackled with a terrible bone chilling radiance.
"No!" Zechariah screamed at the shadows. "I won't let you hurt anyone!" He said as he rain over to a shrub and began to tug upon it hard, hearing and feeling the roos pop as he tugged harder and harder.
The shadows laughed at him. "Why do you care?" They asked mockingly, "No one here cares about you, or even loves you. They all despise you."
"Once I defeat you, then they'll love me! I just need you to die!" Zechariah shouted angrily as he pulled hard enough to rip the shrub out of the ground, and fell backwards onto his rear.
"My best wishes." The second shadow said before pausing, and staring oddly off into the distance. With a snarl it flicked it's wrist and threw the black fire upon the nearby stables.
"You see that?" The third asked.
"Chase her. Find out who she is." The first ordered, and the third shadow vanished.
"Demons! Help! Fire!" Zechariah cried out as he ran to the now burning stables and fanned the dark flame, beginning to put it out.
"Make sure the stables burn." The first said to the second. "I've got another time to be."
"With pleasure." The second said and as Zechariah fanned the first dark flame out, the shadow simply threw more black fire upon the stables, higher than where Zechariah was able to reach.
"Damn you!" Zechariah screamed. "Fire! Fire!" He ran about throwing straw and fallen leaves and twigs at the burning black fire. The last remaining shadow laughed darkly as it suddenly glowed with a dark radiance as well, and the black flame spread incomprehensibly fast. It stood by, thwarting Zechariah's every feeble attempt, until some adults came running. One dragged Zechariah off, and began to beat him, scolding him for being so stupid to set the stable on fire, and for throwing more tinder upon the flames. Others ran and grabbed buckets, as others scooped up dirt and sand and threw it upon the flames. Yet with every shovel full of sand, with every bucket of water, the flames only grew, and soon the fire spread to the inn and all was consumed by the ever dark flame.
Thunk, thunk, thunk. Click. Thunk, thunk.
Zechariah sat bolt up right in the darkness, before he was nearly blinded by the brightness of a candle. The hall beyond was dimly lit, as with a singular torch, but that combined with the candle, after how ever long locked in complete darkness, Zechariah blinked as he tried to adjust his vision. The heavy steady sound, was from the foot falls of, a walking rock. Zechariah blinked in confusion, as a small woman made of grey stone clunked her way into the cell, carrying a bucket strapped to her back and a tray of food in her hands.
"W-What the hell?" Zechariah asked blearily as he was still trying to get his bearing and figure out what his eyes were seeing.
"Your food for the day." The little rock woman said in a gravely yet homely voice. It wasn't so much a husky voice, it had tones that were soft, and gentle, but it was literally gravely.
"What are you?" Zechariah asked as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"Well that's a bit rude. Never seen a dwarf before?" She said placing the tray on the floor and putting her hands on her hips with a deep clunk.
Zechariah stared in awe, gaping as he studied her in the dim light of the candle. Head to foot, even on the palms of her hands, she was made of stone. A deep grey stone. There were rocks here, and there of varying sizes that encompassed her, or perhaps she was even made up of them. Places on her body which required the most flexibility, was instead covered with very fine pebbles, even as of coarse sand, but everywhere, it was stone. The second thing, was that she was small. Well below four feet tall, Zechariah wouldn't have been surprised if she was shorter than three. Her eyes were small green emeralds, beneath fine stony eyelids, and her hair which was tied back from her head also grated and rustled as she moved. Zechariah had no idea how it worked, but almost as fine as a thread of twine, her stone hair was a loosely braided pony tail of obsidian.
"By Krulnac boy, you gonna gawk at me like I'm some kind of abomination all night long or you gonna eat your supper so I can get out of here?" She said slinging the bucket off her shoulder, turning it upside and sitting upon it, making it creak beneath her weight.
"I...I-I'm sorry." Zechariah stammard as he tried to gather his wits, shaking his head. He slumped down to the ground, and pulled the tray towards him. There was a bowel of stew, and a loaf of bread. It smelled wonderful, and tasted even more. It was rich, lightly salty chicken stew with an assortment of vegetables floating around within. Zechariah's eyes widened in surprise, and then he took a bite of the soft, slightly sweet bread, freshly baked that day. It was delightful.
"Good?" The rock lady, dwarf thing asked.
Zechariah nodded his head humming as he chewed and swallowed his mouthful. "Very much so. Thank you Ma'am." He said politely, before continuing to eat.
"Well aren't you the most polite prisoner I've ever met." She said amiably.
"I am?" Zechariah asked, before shaking his head thinking it a dumb question. "Why is it so good? And, why are you sat here? Who are you?" Zechariah asked in rapid order before taking a bite of the stew dipped bread.
"My, an inquisitive one. Actually, I'm not really suppose to talk to you but, what the hell. I'm sat here cause I can't let you eat unsupervised, lest you try to kill yourself or escape with the divines know what."
Zechariah laughed a bit, and speaking around a full mouth he said, "Really? What am I going to do, set myself on fire?"
"Apparently so." She said shrugging. "Doesn't work to well for us, but you might go up in a flame pretty well. Fire doesn't burn rocks too well."
"I...should think not." Zechariah said, pausing before he remembered not to gawk.
"Krukgunga is my name. I'm a servant here in the house of Lady Sundman. And that stew there is so fresh cause it was made just this evening for her dining. And yes, I'm still a dwarf."
Zechariah blushed, as he forced his eyes away from her stony complexion. "I'm sorry. But why am I eating Mistress's food?"
"Mistress?" Krukgunga asked surprised. "What? You're her slave?"
Zechariah froze for a moment, the briefest of moments before pushing himself on to eat. "N-no. Not at all." He tried lying. "Just used to hearing nobles called that by their slaves you know?"
Frowning, Krukgunga said, "Not really. But whatever." She added with a shrug. "Not like it really matters to me. I just do my job. And yes it's Lady Sundman's food but so is it everyone's. My husband can cook well enough for a noble, and in high enough quantity to feed an entire house. Especially one as small as this. We always have a few bits as left overs, and left overs brew the longest, so yours is probably over spiced honestly. My husband and I weren't about to brew up a whole 'nother stew, intentionally worse just to give to one prisoner. That'd just be stupid." She said matter of factly, nodding to her self. She sat with one hand on her hip, the other arm resting firmly on her knee. But what about you glowy arm. You some kind of demon?"
Zechariah flushed, and held his burn hand, unconsciously trying to cover it. "I...What about me."
"Who are ya?" She asked bluntly.
"I-I'm no one. Just a deserter." Zechariah said evasively.
"All no ones have names." Krukgunga said raising a stony eyebrow.
Zechariah paused, unsure of what to do. She seemed friendly enough, but he was pretty sure Lelia didn't want him talking to anyone, and he'd probably already accidentally revealed too much with his earlier blunder. Just as Zechariah's heart began to race in fear, a head popped around the frame of the door.
"Hey, No talking." The guard said firmly.
"What?" Krukgunga complained. "We've been talking for the last few moments, and you didn't say anything earlier."
"I was distracted. But I'm saying something now. Cease chatting immediately."
"Fine, whatever." Krukgunga said rolling her eyes. "Sorry surf. Guess you gotta finish your meal in silence."
"I said enough!" The guard shouted angrily.
"Alright alright." She said waving her hand at him. "I get it!" Krukgunga turned back rolling her emerald eyes dramatically and shrugged at Zechariah, waiting for him to finish his meal in silence.
November 23rd, 2021
November 23rd, 2021
"So, you're dragging me down to the criminal world?" The Captain asked as he disrobed, scowling at Gerb who leaned against the door frame, crutch under his arm.
"wouldn't have been my first choice, believe me." Gerb grumbled in his perpetual sour mood.
"Not mine either." The Captain grunted as she tossed aside his chain mail and stripped down to common linens. "You want a weapon? Or some armor?" He asked Gerb as he opened up a wardrobe and begun to peruse his clothing options.
"We're going to talk to some of my old...'friends'." He said exasperatedly. "Not into a warzone. You don't need to don any armor or weapons."
"Suit yourself but don't expect me to save your sorry hide if things go Edgeward. No weapons either?" The Captain asked pulling a thin leather jerkin on and strapping some small blades to the inside in hidden sheaths.
"No point. They'll search you and confiscate the weapons anyway. Besides..." Gerb said popping his knuckles, "My hands have always served me just fine."
"That, I would like to see. You hopping around a battlefield swinging those fists at a cavalry charge?" Ha!" He barked a laugh shaking his head.
"We're not going to a battlefield are we?" Gerb asked with a flat expression. "And you're wearing that?"
"What's wrong with this?" The Captain asked as he clasped a cloak around his neck and drapped it over his body concealing all beneath. "It's not rich and it hides everything."
"That's the problem." Gerb said hopping over on his crutch to the wardrobe where he pulled out a few clothes and tossed them to the Captain's bed. "If you look like you're hiding something, then you probably are. The leather shirt isn't bad, but conceal it under common linens and you're far less likely to draw attention to yourself."
The Captain paused for a moment before pulling off the cloak with a sigh. "Just so that we're clear, if I suspect in any way that you are intentionally putting myself or Lady Lelia in harms' way, I'll gut you like a fish." He said as he began to dress in the clothes Gerb had picked out for him.
Gerb grunted and hopped back to the door. "What should I call you?"
"Guess that might prove to be prudent." The Captain said as he finished dressing himself. "Nevakko. Nev for short." He said as he approached the door.
"Nice to finally meet you." Gerb said shouldering his crutch. "Oh, by the way," Gerb said meeting Nevakko's eyes. "If I fele you might be trying to get rid of me, or claim the bounty on my head, I'll break your neck like a twig. Just so we're clear." Gerb finished before turning his back on Nevakko and hopping away.
Darkness. In him. Through him. From him. There was darkness all around. He cried out, and no one answered him. He reached out, and felt nothing, not even ground beneath his feet. He tried to move, but couldn't tell if he was moving or not. Was he going forward? Was he walking? He felt nothing beneath him, but walked surly, but felt no motion. He wandered in a void, reaching, grasping for anything to fix his senses on. The ground, the air. There was no air. He wasn't breathing, but he wasn't dying. He felt no pulse. Was he even there?
Then there was gold. A line of pure golden light that radiated across the infinite darkness. The line grew, slowly becoming a crescent, and then slowly becoming a circle but it stopped before forming a complete ring. Illuminated from the light of the broken golden ring, there was a head. Black as the void surrounding it, only visible by the light of the halo.
Then there was red. Two of them. Two bright rubies that pierced the darkness of the face, that glowed with the deep wrath of the nine hells. Red that echoed all lust, hate, and retribution in the world. Red eyes that pierce to the heart, and hold the soul captive.
"You did this." The Darkness said.
Zechariah tried to ask what he did, but there was no air, and no voice came out.
"You will suffer retribution."
Zechariah sat up with a cry of alarm. He looked around, and saw only darkness. He panicked for a moment, and tried to throw himself backwards from, nothing. In a moment, he felt air in his lungs and the bed beneath his body and the solid thud of himself flung against the wall by his own hands. His heart raced and he sweated heavily, painting. He had to get out of here.
Zechariah flung himself out of bed and over to where he knew the door was. He found it in short order and pounded on the solid wooden door. "Hey! Hey! Guard! I...I need to get out of here. I can't stand the darkness anymore. It's been days! Please! Or give me candle or something for the love of Aleen."
There was no reply.
"Please. I can't take the darkness anymore. Please." He asked, feeling like his mind was breaking.
There was no answer.
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