by Heath Pfaff
Chapter 4
The Many Imprisonings of Xan
Xandrith leapt awake, coming to his feet and falling into a combat stance even before he'd had the time to take a look at his surroundings. He reached for his knives and found that they were missing. Bright white light blasted Xan's eyes and forced him to squint. He forced himself to relax and take in his surroundings. He was in a metal room about five paces by six, with a ceiling too high to reach. The white light was emitting from strange domes in the corners of the room, as bright as the sun at noon, but the wrong color for natural light. It was far too white, sterile. There was a single door to the room and it was constructed of heavy iron bars as big around as Xan's wrist. There was no lock on the door itself that he could see.
Though the room was unfamiliar to Xandrith, he knew a prison cell when he saw one. He'd been in enough to understand them quite well. A terrible pain in his shoulder brought him out of his contemplation. He looked down to see that there was a massive scorched hole in his shirt just over his mechanna-repaired shoulder. Through the hole he could see flesh that was blackened like meat that had been left on the fire too long. The skin was splitting and bleeding in places. He stretched his hand on that arm and lifted the arm carefully. The skin pulled and tore on his shoulder, and inside his arm there was an uncomfortable grinding sound from his artificial shoulder. It sent a wave of pain through his body as he ran it through its motions.
"Good morning, Trast." A voice called from beyond Xandrith's door. He looked up to see a man of middling years standing beyond the bars. He was dressed in a soldier's uniform, though he wasn't wearing armor. He had long dark hair with streaks running through it like thin silvery rivers, and blue eyes that were unusually piercing. Xan recognized him as the man who'd come running at him with the armless-bow thing.
"What did you hit me with?" Xan wasn't in the mood for niceties just yet.
"We call it a stun bow, but it's still being worked on. Sometimes it stuns, sometimes it kills, but it's getting better all the time." The man explained with a smile. "It didn't kill you after all, so I'd say that was a successful test."
Xandrith walked closer to the bars. "I don't know. You probably would have been better off if it had killed me because when I get out of here I'm going to cut your balls off and feed them to you."
The man laughed, a big throaty sound that filled the air of the prison. "I don't doubt for a second that you'd try, but you won't be leaving here any time soon, Trast." His face grew serious. "We have questions that you're going to answer. Your friends are hammering at our front door now thanks to you, and we want to know why they're here, and what we can do to make them go away. I'm afraid that you're going to have to tell us whether you want to or not."
Xandrith shrugged. It was a painful thing to do, but he ignored the shooting agony that swept through his body. "I'm not responsible for the trolls being here. They're in these mountains for the same reason I am, but they would have come with or without me. You can do what you want to me, but that is the only answer you're going to get." The memory of Xan's recent torture sent a shiver of terror coursing down his spine. He wouldn't let them do to him what the mages had done. He would die first, and he would take as many of them with him as possible.
"Excuse me if I can't afford to believe you. There is a very large horde of trolls laying siege to this city and everyone is scared. We need answers. We need hope, and right now you're the closest thing we have to either of those. Listen, you're probably not going to get out of this alive. The best you can hope for is a quick death for what you've done. Just tell us what you know."
Xandrith walked over to the bars. He stood nearly a head taller than the other man. He'd always been tall, but it seemed to Xan he'd gained some height since he'd become part troll, and the horns certainly helped make him seem even larger. "What is your name?" Xandrith asked.
"I'm Captain Rand Fortsmith, but that's hardly important. We're not going to be friends." Xandrith's jailer introduced himself.
"Rand, my name is Xandrith Dalt. I'm not with the trolls. I am directly responsible for saving the lives of everyone who made it here on that caravan. If threats are the way you repay such a favor, then I don't give a damn if the trolls devour your whole city. I have more important concerns at the moment. I recommend you let me out of this cell and allow me to continue on my way." He was doubtful that Rand had any intention of letting him go, but at that moment Xan only had his voice for a weapon.
Rand seemed to be trying to remember something. "Xandrith. That isn't the name you gave the men and women of the caravan. It's familiar though. Where have I heard it before?"
Xan shrugged. "If you've been in law enforcement long, you've probably seen it on an Order's wanted poster. They don't much care for me."
"Ahhh," Rand's eyes widened as if pleasantly surprised. "Shade, the assassin! Well, what a surprise. I didn't expect to have a celebrity in my prison." He laughed again, with the same room filling burst of apparent joy he'd displayed before. "I don't suppose there’s any chance of collecting your bounty anymore? There aren't many mages left. Not many people left."
"It's only going to get worse." Xandrith noted dryly.
Any semblance of humor fled Rand's face. "I know, but do you? Humanity has become a species on the fringe, Xandrith. Reports from the south say that the trolls have beaten back the Fae armies and are hunting down surviving humans and orcs and executing them. Running from the cities isn't helping. The trolls are slaughtering every man, woman and child that they find. Every week less and less reports come in from my sources. Last week I received four. A month ago I was getting two hundred separate messages from our intelligence division. We are dying. Forge Haven is the last human stronghold. We have nearly twenty thousand lives within this fortress and now, because of you, the trolls know that we're here."
Xandrith had to check his temper so as not to yell. "I did not bring the trolls. They came here looking for something that is hidden high in these mountains. When they find it, it won't matter where anyone’s trying to survive. We’ll all be dead. If I don't find what they're looking for before they do, the world as we know it is forfeit."
"I'm supposed to believe that you're out to save the world from the evil trolls?" Rand didn't look impressed. "You look like a troll yourself. I'd guess that you are one of them. A spy, just close enough to human to make us second guess ourselves. You're probably not even Xandrith Dalt. I've seen the wanted posters. You don't look like him."
"If I was a spy, why would I go through so much trouble to save the people of the caravan after the carts flipped in the mountain pass? I could have left those people to die and rejoined the trolls if I'd been so inclined. Coming here and shutting myself inside this place with thousands of hostile people doesn't seem like a very smart thing to do, does it?"
Rand's reply was quick. He'd obviously been building his grand conspiracy for some time. "It would be quite the smart thing to do if you intended to gain our trust and then open the gates from inside the Forge. Beyond the wall it's impossible to open the gates, but from inside you would have access to the controls."
Xandrith sighed and shrugged.
Rand's face split in a confident smile. "No defense for that accusation, I see."
"There really isn't any point in defending myself. You've already decided that I'm a spy. No amount of reason is going to convince you otherwise now." Xandrith let himself look defeated, worn, ready to give in. He would conserve his energy, and when the proper time came he would do what he had to in order to free himself.
"You should give up the pretense of innocence and talk, whoever you are. You're not getting out of here alive. You might as well make death as easy as it can be. Tell me what you know about the force outside the gate. What are their weaknesses? Can they be reasoned with? How can they be defeated? You have to know something."
Xandrith wasn't sure what to tell Rand. The man wanted to pry some form of hope out of Xandrith, but there wasn't any for him to
give. Their situation was beyond hope. Forge Haven was doomed, and the more time Rand wasted trying to get information out of Xan, the less time they would have to try and get people out alive.
"The only thing I can tell you that will help you now, is that you and your people should run. Abandon the Forge and get as far from here as you can before the trolls break the gate, and they will break the gate. No matter how well it's built, they will come through that wall. They're not stupid creatures, though they may seem monstrous. They are every bit as clever as you or I, and they are driven by a hate so powerful that it consumes every moment of their lives. Hate of that degree cannot be dissuaded or turned away. They will cleanse in the fire of their anger, or they will die trying."
Rand slammed his fist against the wall next to Xan's cell. It only made a dull thump. The structure was too well built to allow for any more than that. "I will not accept that. Forge Haven is our home, our hope, and we will not run away."
"Then there is nothing left to be done. The trolls will break your walls and devour your people, and that’s only if they don't find what they're looking for in the mountains first." Xandrith answered.
Rand shook his head, obviously trying to regain composure. "So, what is it they're looking for in these mountains? Snow and rock? There is a great deal of that." He reached into his coat and drew Xandrith's hard-won bone dagger from a scabbard at his hip. "Why do you have a knife made of bone? I tried to break it, but it wouldn't snap. What is this thing?" He held it up in his hand as though it might turn on him and bite.
Xandrith ignored the blade. He wasn't going to talk about that with Rand. "They're looking for the source of all magic, Rand. When they find it, they're going to fully awaken a god-like being who wants to see our world destroyed. The trolls believe that this god-thing will grant them dominance over the world as a reward for their service. It might, or it might obliterate them along with everything else we know. It doesn't care about us, and there is nothing left to oppose its power. The one hope we had, a creature of equal power that might have taken our side, is dead. I was going to try and find the god-thing before it ascended to full power and kill it, but you've decided to lock me in here and torture me." Xandrith found it quite cathartic to speak his mind. He didn't actually hope to accomplish anything by doing so, but saying it all out loud was refreshing.
The captain returned the knife to his coat. "You're a liar. Not even a good one." Rand's expression turned to a look of disgust as he spoke. "You've wasted my time, but when I come back later, I'll have the answers I want." He turned his back on Xandrith and walked away until he was out of sight of the assassin.
Xandrith was left to the silent company of his metal walls and alien lights, though it wasn't all silence. The lights emitted a strange sound, a buzzing like angry insects. The longer he sat alone in the cell, the more that buzzing seemed to swallow up the room. At first it had been barely noticeable, but slowly it seemed to consume Xandrith, filling his head until it numbed his thoughts and made it difficult to think. The light wasn't helping either. It seemed to cut into his mind, sharpened needles of energy that pierced his skull with ease. He couldn't hide from them. Closing his eyes didn't block out the light. Placing his arm over his face helped, but the buzzing could still be heard. Even if he covered his ears and buried his face in his arm he couldn't shake that terrible buzzing.
"This is worse than death." Xandrith's younger self spoke, the first voice to break the silence in what felt like hours. "I wish they would just come and kill us."
Xandrith shook his head. "Maybe this is part of the torture. They'll keep us in this void of buzzing light until we go mad, and then we'll tell them whatever they want to hear just to make it stop. They'll get their answers, even if their answers are only the fabrications they want to hear."
Young Xan paced the cell. "We've been awake in here for about 13 hours so far. Maybe longer. I think they've been increasing the volume of the buzzing the entire time."
"How can you tell any of that?" Xandrith asked, truly bewildered. He had thought the increase in volume was his mind playing tricks on him.
"I'm not sure, but I seem to have a really acute sense of the passing of time. The buzzing is simple. When we first woke up in here I couldn't hear it at all, and then for a while I couldn't hear it when we covered our ears, but now I can hear it even when we cover our ears. It is definitely getting louder." Young Xandrith seemed quite confident in his convictions.
"We're probably both crazy." Xandrith noted morosely. "You're not even real."
"If you're so certain of that, why do you keep talking to me?" His doppelganger shot back.
Xandrith chuckled. "You're the only one who’ll listen."
The buzzing sound stopped. The abrupt quietness happened so suddenly that Xandrith thought for a moment he'd lost his hearing.
"Hello?" He said, mostly to hear his own voice. He was relieved when he could.
"Well, this can't be good." His younger self noted.
"I guess you were right about …" Xan started.
"Who are you talking to?" Rand's voice appeared just before he came back into view in front of Xandrith's cell.
"Tell him you're talking to the trolls." Young Xan suggested.
"I'm talking to myself." Xandrith said honestly. "Have you been watching me? Are you responsible for that terrible buzzing sound?"
"I don't believe you!" Rand snapped, his composure slipping to reveal a terrible rage beneath the surface. "Who were you talking to?"
"You should have told him you were talking to trolls, he would have believed that." Young Xandrith walked up to the bars as he spoke. He spit on the ground at Rand's feet.
Xandrith couldn't help himself. He laughed. "I have done nothing but tell you the truth since I arrived, and you've done nothing but accuse me of lying. I believe I'm done talking to you, Rand. Go ahead and bring on the torture. Anything would be preferable to our little conversations."
The assassin wasn't prepared for the explosion of rage that erupted from Rand. Rand charged forward and grabbed the bars of Xan’s cage, shaking them so hard that they actually rattled ever so slightly in their firm foundation. "You piece of shit! You murdering piece of shit! I will be laughing on the day that you die, do you fucking hear me?!"
Even imaginary Xan was taken aback at this explosion of rage. He stepped back from the cell door looking a bit uneasy. "This man is dangerous."
Xandrith just gave a single nod, but didn't say anything. After a few moments of awkward silence while Rand glared at Xan with murder in his eyes, the guard captain turned and left. Xandrith was left in the silence of his cell again. The assassin waited for the buzzing to resume, but it didn't. After about ten minutes the lights in his cell went out as well. Absolute darkness devoured the world, but somehow Xandrith could still see the younger image of himself hovering in the void.
"Do you think this is some new type of torture?" Young Xan asked, seemingly as confused as Xandrith was himself.
"If it is, I'll take this over the other." He answered, closing his eyes and enjoying the peaceful emptiness. "It's comfortable."
"You could almost forget we're going to die."
"Almost." With that last word, Xandrith drifted to sleep.
When Xandrith awoke the next morning he found that someone had turned the lights back on in his cell, though they seemed much less intense than they had the day before. He also found a small block of bread and a glass of water just inside his cell door. He wasn't sure when they'd been left, or who had left them, but he was glad to see some form of sustenance. His hunger had been nagging, but his thirst was terrible. He drank the water slowly, enjoying the moisture as it coated his aching mouth and throat.
He had briefly considered the possibility that the food was poisoned, but if his jailers had wanted to kill him there would have been many easier ways to do it. The food tasted as it should. The water would have been easy to identify as poisoned, but it tasted neutral and inoffensive. The bread was a b
it stale, and had obviously not been of artisan quality when fresh, but it was palatable. Xandrith finished his meager meal and sat down with his back against the wall opposite the caged opening of his cell. There was nothing to see or do. His mind drifted over the events of the last few months.
In such a short time he'd gone from being an assassin with a mountain of wealth at his disposal to a wanted criminal with nothing more than the ragged clothing on his back. Now, trapped in a cell and awaiting his own torture and death, Xandrith found himself questioning the wisdom of his choices. He should have never taken the job that had sent him after Leahn. Had he not killed his childhood friend and accepted her task to uncover the truth of the Order of Mages, he would never have gotten involved in any of the trouble in which he now found himself.
Of course, if he hadn't killed Leahn and taken up her quest, he never would have met Kassa or Haley. Would it be worse to have lost them as he had, or to never have known them? Probably it would have been better for them if he’d gone on as usual. Kassa for certain. He wouldn’t have known what he was missing now either, but the thought of not even having their memory with him was startlingly painful. He was a better person for having known them, wasn’t he? Was it what they’d made him into that he didn’t want to lose?
If he hadn’t been on this quest, he would probably have been in one of those cities destroyed when the trolls had attacked. Would he have survived that onslaught? Did it really matter? Agonizing over the question of what of might have been didn't accomplish anything. Many dark events had occurred since Leahn's death, but Xandrith had grown as a person as well. He'd found friends and lost them. He'd done selfless things, acts of heroism that he wouldn't have even considered when he was still Shade.