Chapter 4: The Caged Bird- A Song of Hope

A habit I had acquired over time was to walk on the balcony of the Mage Tower. It allowed me to look over the Deep Forest. The dark green of the trees and the blue of the sky contrasted beautifully. It was from this unusual oddity of the edge of their lands that the Vlarnish had taken their deep green colors.

“Victor!!” A voice rang out.

I looked back at the door where my friend Tiphani was at. She looked distressed. “Yes?” I responded.

“There’s a surprise inspection!” She yelled and ran back inside.

I swore loudly and sprinted after her. The damned Priests of Viroi loved to catch up with mages. The witch hunts had ended almost a century ago thanks to a king of the forested mountains, but the Church still found other ways to remove troublesome mages. Namely the Mage Tower where any person who showed any magical talent was sent to be “trained.” In reality, it was just a prison for us. You only left with the church’s approval and the church never gave approval. Plus the instruction was a joke, we were all bound with magic restraints that prevented any form of casting and were only taught the dangers of magic. It was a brutally efficient system. An unrestrained mage from the kingdom of Vlarn had not been seen in over fifty years.

I slid into place in front of my bunk to await the inevitable inspection. Dread gathered in the pit of my stomach as I waited. Every time the inquisitors came through, they searched the tower for any signs of rebellion. Every time we spent weeks putting things back together. I took a mental inventory of my things, there should be nothing in my meager belongings that would bring their wrath down on me.

The door slammed open, almost torn off its hinges. I immediately looked at the ground at my feet. Inquisitors interpreted anyone looking at them as a challenge and anyone who looked at someone else as conspiracy. As a result, we were only allowed to look at our feet. I heard armored boots clanking on the stone also. I swallowed nervously, that meant the inquisitors brought templars with them. The executioners of the Inquisition. The inquisitors wanted blood.

Their squires and thugs swarmed our bunks and began dumping things out. Books and journals were confiscated, anything valuable was taken for investigation, money was evidence of nefarious plots, and art was rebellion. It was miserable. The sound of crashing and breaking belongings moved like a tide through the room. Then they crashed into the hall while a single templar was left guarding us.

We stood there for hours while the inquisitors finished searching the tower. I breathed a sigh of relief that they had not taken anyone from our room this time. I always felt horrible as someone was led away for questioning never to be seen again. I wished I could do something, but I was powerless. I had lived in this damned tower since I was a toddler.

“To the audience hall, MOVE!” The templar bellowed.

We obeyed and shuffled out only looking at the floor. They did not care if we bumped into walls, to look up was to defy, to defy them was to be punished. Soon we were all standing in the audience hall located in the center of the bottom level of the tower. It was a massive area meant to fit an entire generation of magic users. We barely filled half of it.

Then the head Inquisitor spoke, as he always did. He told us how this was for our own good. How evil we inherently were and how we should devote ourselves to Viroi in penance for our evil natures. It was always a long lecture. He ended always with how many guilty parties there were. This time the number came out to sixty people they had taken away. I wanted to cry, inevitably someone I knew would be in that group. I would not find out till tomorrow morning at breakfast as the Inquisitors kept the tower locked down overnight. We were then dismissed and I shuffled back to my room. I knew people would inevitably be looking up and talking in hushed tones with their friends. I really hoped Tiphani had made it this time. I just scooped the broken remains of my few possessions into a chest. After a moment I just walked to the trash chute that went to an incinerator and dumped the entire thing in. I might as well not own anything. I fixed my mattress and pulled the torn blanket over me. My pillow had disappeared and I did not want to look for it.

The next morning, I woke up early and rushed to the dining hall. It was my and Tiphani’s agreement to meet with each other as soon as possible. We had been friends for ten years now. I reached the dining hall and looked around wildly. Some others had done the same. I did not see her. I sat down at our usual table to wait for her. Others slowly filed in and began getting breakfast. It was gruel-like as it always was. Still, I did not see Tiphani. I did see someone from her room. It was Xaot, we weren’t really close, but everyone knew how these mornings went.

“Xaot?” I asked as I approached him cautiously.

“They took her Victor. Because she had a picture of herself riding a dragon that she had drawn.” His tone was jagged like broken glass. “They took almost everyone from our room.” He walked away without another word and sat down.

I stared at nothing in particular and left without getting breakfast. I noticed there was more church personnel than usual, but I could not bring myself to care. I found myself on the balcony again and stared out over the Deep Forest. Tiphani and I had often talked about running away and facing our fates together in that forbidden forest. Instead, I was alone again. I sat down and cried. I kept crying until my tears ran dry. Then I just stared at the stone balcony. At some point, the sunset and I knew I should return to my room. I just could not bring myself to care. The night patrol found me.

Two of the inquisitorial guard with their crimson teardrop uniforms and an actual inquisitor in all black behind them.

“Who goes there?!” They yelled and swarmed me.

I did not answer. There was no point, my treatment would be the same.

I was thrown against the wall and they searched me, ripping pockets, and tearing stitching. All they got for their effort was a few pieces of lint.

“He has nothing on him Lady Inquisitor.” The guard reported, that there was confusion in his voice.

The tapping of the Inquisitor’s boots on the stone echoed. I knew I should look down. I found myself staring listlessly ahead against all wisdom I had been taught.

I heard the rasp as the guard pulled out their cudgel. I closed my eyes and waited for the blow. A blow that never came.

“Stop,” The Inquisitor’s accent was the soft eloquence that indicated she was from the capital.

“Lady Inquisitor he-” “The guard protested.

“I am aware, I will handle this. Both of you stand down.” The Inquisitor commanded.

I bowed my head in gratitude and left my gaze at the stone. She had saved me from a beating, I could appreciate that at least.

“Why are you up here at night mage?” She asked.

I contemplated staying silent, but why? To seem tough, there was no point. “I have been crying all day,” I said and felt my tears well up slightly.

“Look at me.” She commanded.

I obeyed; it was the first time I had seen an actual inquisitor’s face since I had been a child. She had dark hair and eyes. Somewhere in the back of my head, I thought she was kind of pretty. Those thoughts were locked behind a wall though. A wall of grief and terror.

“Why are you crying?” Her voice was almost soft. I heard the chuckling of the guards.

“My best friend was taken by the Inquisitors yesterday,” I answered dully.

I heard the guards perk up and I was suddenly pinned against the wall by them again.

“A conspirator, eh?” One of them breathed with a rancid breath, “We will take care of you too?”

“What are you doing?” The Inquisitor asked in a cool voice.

“We were going to take him for interrogation,” The guard sounded confused, “He is a conspirator.”

“There is no evidence of that,” The inquisitor seemed almost angry, “Let him go immediately. Or will you defy me again?”

“No ma’am,” The guards answered and let me go home.

“What is your name and room?” She asked me.

“Victor, room 301 on the third level.” I was confused, they never asked for this. They had not in years at least.

“Victor, you will receive a documented warning for being outside your room after curfew. It will be placed in your file. You are spared the demerit as my men acted inappropriately. Return to your room.”

I wanted to stare at her in shock. Demerits had not been used in almost six years. They just took people. I managed to nod my head and express my thanks. I stumbled as I went back to my room. I was more scared than if they had drug me off to be interrogated. Why would they spare me?

The next week revealed that all of our teachers had been removed and classes previously about history and geography were replaced by the teachings of Viroi. I studied them as I had the others. My true passion was to sing, but I had not been granted that learning in years. I took notes and passed the exams. I recited the scriptures. There were more inquisitors than before and I determined the Inquisition had finally just replaced our teachers. Mandatory prayer times followed. Statues of Viroi appeared everywhere and every mage was required to carry a tome of scripture with them.

A month passed before I risked going to the balcony again. The loss of Tiphani was still a thorn in my heart, but it was slowly just turning into a dull ache. I kept crying myself to sleep over it. Some of the others had taunted me for it, but I no longer cared. I was twenty years old dammit not some school child to be bullied. Except it still hurt. I found my way to the balcony. I looked around carefully. I wanted to mourn Tiphani properly. We never talked about it, but every single mage imprisoned here knew that if you were taken, it was a death sentence. Tiphani was dead.

I sang softly at first. It had been her favorite song she had asked me to sing to her over and over. A lullaby about a butterfly floating free through the wind. Slowly my voice rose as I sang out into the wind and hoped that at least now her spirit was free. I wept bitterly after.

I heard a voice, it was the inquisitor that had given me a warning, “Mage Victor, what are you doing?”

I immediately turned from the open expanse of sky and looked to the ground, “Singing lady inquisitor.”

“To whom?” Her tone was sharp, “Why were you singing?”

I wanted to scream, “I was singing a lullaby, it was my friend’s favorite song.”

“Where is your friend?” Her voice was getting sharper.

“She’s fucking dead!” I screamed at her. I no longer looked at the ground my eyes found hers, “You fucking took her away and killed her like everyone else. I may be a mage, but no one comes back from your fucking ‘interrogations.’ We all fucking know.” I stopped and took a breath, “To be taken by an inquisitor is a death sentence. Everyone in this damn tower is waiting to die. So yeah, I was fucking singing, hopefully, my friend’s soul could hear it from wherever it ended up. I can’t even mourn her properly because of you assholes.”

She stared at me for a long moment, “I am sorry for that, the trials of Viroi in interrogations are stressful not many can endure it.”

I laughed bitterly, “Fuck you. Take me away, I don’t care anymore. I can’t even have a single piece of art, sing a fucking song, read any book that is not these damned scriptures, I have nothing and I don’t care.” I stepped closer, “Better yet, just fucking kill me yourself, or do you inquisitors save that work for those under you?”

“Listen, Victor,” She spoke in a softer tone, “I did not take your friend, I was not even here during the last purge.”

I snorted, “Glad to know y’all have finally stopped calling them inspections.”

“It is to purge the traitors so you can live in peace.” She shot back.

“Traitors? TRAITORS?” I laughed hysterically, “Tiphani was taken because she had a fucking picture she drew of herself riding a dragon.” I shook my cuffs that had not been taken off in fifteen years, “You see these?! I came here as a child and had these welded to my wrists, any chance of me wielding magic disappeared at that moment. THERE ARE NO FUCKING TRAITORS HERE!” I screamed, “Even if there were, what would they do? Spit at you in your fancy boots, maybe I could find a stick somewhere that could hit someone.”

“Magic is unpredictable-” She said looking distressed.

“Really?” I continued laughing like a mad person, “I wouldn’t know I have not seen a drop of magic and would not even know what it looks like. I don’t even remember what I did to get torn from my parents and dropped off here.”

She stared at me in silence.

“Magic is the chaotic nature of man-made manifest.” I began quoting the scripture, “It must be bound and tamed for it will be the downfall as chaos tries to gather power to overthrow order. So be it.” I spat the words. “Or maybe you prefer; ‘Chaos cannot be allowed, the order is the salvation of civilization, magic is a curse upon civilization.’” I pulled another snippet out of my head, “There’s also the words of the Priest Alkim, ‘Mages are a danger like a wild beast, they can be tamed with appropriate measures and used for the betterment of man.’”

The inquisitor now looked pretty shocked.

I kept going, “Then there’s the actual quote from dear old Franklin, the Cardinal who sentenced all mages here, ‘We will bind magic to a faraway place so they may not have to suffer and order will be preserved.’” I snorted, “I guess someone else is going to memorize the words that condemn us all to death as children.

“This is for your own good!” She yelled back, “This is not some pleasant task, you are broken, spewing chaos into this world. You cannot be allowed to contaminate civilization. Once you are fixed through the grace of Viroi you will be allowed to return to civilization.”

“Dear Inquisitor, tell me how this may happen?” Sarcasm dripped from my every word, “What must this horrible, broken mage do to be redeemed?” I dropped to my knees, “Tell my Lady Inquisitor, the bane of my existence, what must I do to be free of the terrible curse that I never asked for?” I spat at her feet and got back up. “Just fucking finish me off and stop pretending.”

“Very well you will face the trials of Viroi then.” She snarled, “Follow me, and remember you asked for this.”

For a moment I felt concerned. What had I gotten myself into? At the least maybe I would see Tiphani again after they got done with me. We walked to the bottom level of the tower and I was escorted to the headmaster’s office. Instead of the headmaster, an Inquisitor sat behind a desk looking over files of some kind. His uniform was different as he had golden stitching in the design of the martyred god on his chest.

“First Inquisitor Rosa,” He addressed the woman who had led me down here, “What brings you to my office?”

“Master Inquisitor, this mage here,” Rosa responded and gestured at me, “He has requested the trials to prove he has overcome his taint.”

“Room and Name mage.” The apparent leader of the inquisitor’s addressed me. I found his grey-eyed gaze to be unsettling and remembered to look at the floor.

“Room 301 on the third level, Victor,” I answered.

I watched as he looked through a cabinet behind him. He pulled out a sheaf of paper held in some kind of folder. He idly flipped through it.

“Victor was brought to the tower at the age of five. Was reported that you conjured fire in a public space, can you confirm?” He asked, then sighed in irritation, “This habit they forced these mages into looking at the floor is infuriating, Look at me boy.”

I looked up and met his gaze, “No inquisitor, I have no memory of ever doing magic. My earliest memory is my mother weeping as I was taken and the pain as they welded these manacles.”

“Explain the pain, was it internal?” He was watching me carefully.

I laughed bitterly and shook my head.

“I do not take well to being mocked mage.” He said quietly.

I held up my wrists so the manacles slid down slightly. Rosa gasped slightly behind me. There were ugly scars that wrapped all the way around my wrists, slightly wider than the cuffs. Every mage had them, “No lord inquisitor,” my tone was sarcastic, “It was not internal, it was from being five years old and having my wrists forced into red hot manacles that were hammered closed.”

He was silent for a long moment, “Every mage endures this?”

I could not help it, I looked at him like he was stupid then realized this was some sick game. I slumped, “Yeah, a fucking inquisitor is the one who does it. Can you just hurry up and kill me? I would rather skip you trying to act like I actually have some chance of surviving.”

I heard the templars at the corner of the room move towards me.

“Stop,” He commanded, “Why are all of you so damn excited whenever a mage expresses emotion?”

“Lord, that is how they cast spells.” One of the templars spoke with their voice echoing strangely from behind the helmet, “Independence breeds freedom, in that freedom they sow chaos.”

“I don’t remember that in the scriptures,” Rosa said hotly.

“It’s not,” I rolled my eyes, I gave up on trying to be deferential, “It is the mandate of Cardinal Quill who has overseen the tower for the last thirty years. There’s a book of them that each templar carries. There’s ten of them total that they refer to.”

The inquisitorial lord in front of me looked up to the templar, “Is this true?”

“Yes Lord, divine words from the cardinal.” The templar confirmed, “One Emotion is the conduit for magic, if a mage expresses emotion, they are a danger.”

“Wrong,” I looked at the templar and found myself hating that perfectly mirrored faceplate they wore, “It is; ‘Emotion is the mage's weapon, let them turn it not against you.’ Get your own fucking texts straight.”

“Listen you filthy mage-” The templar growled and started unsheathing their sword.

“Fucking do it!” I screamed, “Stop playing around and just fucking kill me. Or do I have to draw a damn picture to be worthy of execution?”

“Templars leave the room and wait for further instructions. You will not re-enter unless I tell you to.” The Master Inquisitor stood and his presence filled the room.

They both pivoted and walked out of the room shutting the door behind them.

He turned his gaze back to me, “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from attempts to provoke.”

“Fuck you.” I snarled, “All it takes is a single misplaced look and I would end up dead, stop trying to pretend you are different!”

The man sitting behind the desk was quiet for a long moment, “Have a seat, Victor.” He pointed at one of the plush chairs behind the desk.

I reluctantly obeyed, glowering at him the whole time. I wanted this whole sick charade to end.

He just continued to watch me for a long moment before he finally spoke, “Why do you think I am here Victor?” His tone was level.

I shrugged, “To finish the job?”

“No,” He leaned back and clasped his hands together over his chest, “You see I am a Master Inquisitor. Do you know what a Master Inquisitor does?”

I shook my head slowly; I had no idea. Hell, I did not even know what inquisitors did beyond tormenting those they suspected of being mages.

“A Master Inquisitor has Viroi’s blessing to launch and conduct their own investigations when they may deem it necessary. Their authority stretches over every kingdom where Viroi’s light touches.” He leaned back towards me, “Now why would someone of my standing be here Victor? I certainly was not sent here.”

“I stand by my previous statement,” I practically snarled.

“You really do not like inquisitors,” It was not a question. “Do you think us all bloodthirsty monsters?”

“Considering all it took for my best friend to get a death sentence was a picture she had drawn, yeah I kinda do,” My voice was shaking with rage. A wave of anger I did not know I had was boiling inside of me, “I have lived in fear of your shiny black boots for fifteen years, do you know why boots?”

The Master Inquisitor shook his head.

“Because if I looked up, I would be dragged away like so many others.” My heart was pounding in my chest and my voice was shaking, “I would make friends and they would get dragged away, time and time again.” I stood up and leaned on the table, “I am fucking done, you hear me. I will not dance to this bullshit tune anymore. Kill me, torture me, do whatever the hell you want, but I will not spend another day looking at boots and hoping that I will make it another day.”

He nodded, “I can see how your situation would be upsetting. What if I told you I was here to fix it?”

I looked at him like he had grown horns. I waited for the joke, “You mean by killing us all, right?” I snorted.

“Rumors travel no matter how hard they are suppressed, believe it or not, a few of the mages taken have made it past the trials and become members of Viroi’s legions.” He pulled out a notebook and set it on the desk. “Last year I eradicated a blood cult in the north and was accompanied by one of the few mages who have tamed themselves.” His dark eyes looked off into the distance, “During this time this mage told me of the things which supposedly have been occurring in this tower. A slow eradication of the mages. I spent the next year gathering evidence of this to confront Cardinal Quill. Then he passed away a month ago rather suddenly. As his authority was absent, I immediately assumed control of the tower.”

I froze and sank back into my chair.

“You see Victor,” He continued, “I do not like what has been going on here. A valuable resource for Viroi has been squandered because of petty fears. I am going to see an end to it.”

“An end to what?” I asked, hesitantly. The picture he was painting was almost too good to be true.

He produced a strange medallion from his desk and slid it across so it was sitting on the desk in front of me. “To the manacles, to the dragging off of people for the most ridiculous of made-up infractions, and to see those responsible punished.” The master inquisitor smiled darkly.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked suddenly.

He leaned towards me, “Because every other mage in this tower has been cowed by the templars and I do not have time to wait for someone to get brave. Then you appeared, screaming and cursing my name.” His smile glinted in the darkness of the room, “I like that fire, it is a motivating sight. I like it in my subordinates, it means they push when they need to.”

“Your subordinates?” I asked in surprise, “Are you-?”

He sat back in his chair again. “Yes Victor, I want you to join me in punishing those responsible for hurting and killing your friends. I cannot give you them back, but I can give you vengeance.”

I thought of Tiphani’s bright smile, “What do I have to do?”

“Touch that medallion to your manacles. It will free you and then you will pledge yourself to me and Viroi. Then once the rest of my men arrive, we will clean out this rat’s nest and you will identify those responsibly.” He paused, “Or you can just go back to your bed and weep for your dead friend, it is your choice.”

I took hold of the golden medallion which was shaped like the martyred god. I had the feeling I was signing my soul over to the devil, but I could not care. I wanted vengeance; this would be my only chance. I pressed the medallion to the cuffs and watched the manacles split open instantly. I rubbed my scarred wrists, “What do you need me to do?”

“For now, you will return to your bunk, tomorrow we will begin.”

I nodded and wordlessly left, my robes hung low over my wrists and concealed my freedom. I adopted the pose of the beaten mage. I felt the templars eyes boring into me. For all intents and purposes though, I was just another filthy mage. I made it to my threadbare bunk and climbed in. Everyone in my room just ignored me. The days of those who would rat you out to the guards were long gone. They always took both anyways.

The next morning came and I woke up and went to the dining room as usual. I took my bowl of gruel and as always the low murmur of conversation faded away as time wore on.

A templar rushed in, “Get your asses up and to the auditorium!” He bellowed.

We obeyed and filtered in, as we were not arriving by rooms, I found myself sitting in the middle of the room.

Until this point, I had only seen inquisitors wearing their black uniforms. Pressed and polished. Today assembled on the stage was a line of inquisitors in their armor. Their helmets were of stylized mouthless skulls. They wore cloaks black as night, and their breastplates were beaten and battered. Their boots were dull and scratched.

The Master Inquisitor appeared on stage. He walked fearlessly in front of the inquisitors.

I risked a look around and saw no templars were present. No inquisitors out of armor either.

Then he spoke, “Raise your heads.” His voice was almost gentle despite the volume, “As of today no more harm will come to you. I am here to address the many injustices you have faced.”

I immediately looked up and watched him walk back and forth.

“I am Mastor Inquisitor Torine. Cardinal Quill is dead and I have assumed control of this citadel in his place. I apologize for the change in your class material. It is unfortunately all my men know how to teach that would not raise questions. I am here to change this situation-your situation. I am here to right the injustices.”

Only silence met his words.

“I imagine you are skeptical of this, Victor would you come here?” He asked.

I slowly walked up and people I knew stared at me in shock. I ascended the stairs to the stage.

“Victor, take off your robe.” He instructed.

I let the heavy robe drop off me. It once had been a decent robe, but years of misuse and dragging it on the ground had torn it to a mere shadow of its former self.

“Hold up your arms so all may see,” Torine commanded.

I obeyed and my scarred and free wrists were able to be seen by all.

Torine gestured and Rosa and several other inquisitors stepped forward. They each held that odd gold medallion.

“Long ago this tower was meant to educate and bring those who had magical talent into Viroi’s light without danger. Under Cardinal Quill’s horrendous beliefs this place was turned into a living nightmare.” He lowered his voice to a low tone, “No more. Come have your shackles removed. My men when handling the templars and keep you safe.” He looked at me, “Victor with me.”

I nodded and went to pick up my robe, “Leave it, you have no need of it.”

I followed him out of the auditorium and several of his men flanked us with the rattle of armor. I braced for a surprise execution. Be easy enough to blame it on templars. Instead of getting unceremoniously killed though I found myself in the main hallway. Dead templars littered where they had fallen.

Torine turned to me and retrieved a sword from one of the silent inquisitors. He handed it to me. “This is the only place with templars. They were specially created by Cardinal Quill to guard this place and oppress the mages.”

I took the sword and noted it matched the ones he and the other inquisitors wore, “You know I can’t use this right?” I said shaking my head.

“I am aware, but as we cleanse this place of templars I want you beside me. No one marches with me unarmed.” Torine stated evenly.

I nodded and fastened it around my waist, “I still don’t understand why you need me.”

“I need your knowledge of templar tactics and of the tower. Then once the fighting is over there will be a tribunal and you will be pointing out those who were instrumental in what went on here.”

I nodded, I still did not quite get all of it, but vengeance was too sweet a fruit to resist. “Lead on Master Inquisitor.”

He smiled and drew his saber, “Forward men, let us end these who strayed from Viroi’s light.”

The following hours were the most brutal I had ever seen. Every templar was slain. They were not allowed to surrender. For once they had the same blind terror visited on them that they had subjected me to every day for the last fifteen years. I pointed out every hiding spot I knew, every place they could possibly run to, and where their barracks were. As the last templar was thrown from the tower I looked to Torine who I had dutifully followed through this conflict. He had not donned armor and gone into combat still. He was completely unharmed save for a slight cut to his arm.

“Master Inquisitor, what of all those who acted in concert with the templars?” My sword was unsheathed where I had caught a blow that had been intended for the inquisitor. It had nearly knocked the sword out of my grip, but I still managed to save Torine’s life.

He chuckled, “Dear Victor what do you think I have been doing for the past month?” He pointed beyond the tower at the edge of the deep forest. There were dozens of bodies that had been impaled and left as warnings. They all wore the black of inquisitors.

I smiled savagely, “What else would you have of me?”

Torine wiped his blade clean of gore, “My you are certainly compliant compared to yesterday,” He wore a satisfied smile.

I fell to my knees in front of him, “You have given me something I never dared dream of,” I looked up and felt a fierce loyalty bloom in my chest, “All I can offer is my life.”

He moved so that he stood over me. He had not been that much taller than me, but at this moment, I felt the sheer difference in our power. “Words are cheap Victor, the Cardinal pledged that the mages here would be well taken care of. Show me.”

I knelt there for a long minute. How was I to prove to this man that I was serious? My eyes fell upon his signet ring. It had what looked like a hawk on it. A simple enough design. I could get it branded on me. But Torine had shown he prized action over all else. I reached for one of the templar corpses and drew a dagger. Torine watched expressionlessly as I carved the emblem from his signet ring on my forearm. It was a jagged, bloody replica, but it was there. Large enough that none could miss it. I looked back at him and he wore another of his satisfied smiles.

“Very good Victor, I am satisfied for now,” He tore a piece of cloth from his cape, “Bind that, I do not want to see you die of infection.” Torine turned to the Inquisitors who had watched silently, “Gather up the bodies of the templars and drag them out with the other traitors. Then have the imprisoned come outside.”

They all bowed to Torine and moved on to his command. I followed his gesture. Soon all were gathered outside. Over the deep forest was a tree strider barge.

Tree striders were strange, massive creatures with six long grasper limbs that they used to grab onto the tree tops as they moved. Their long gangly bodies were larger than a carriage, but they worked well in pairs that would carry a barge between them to move across the treetops of the Deep Forest, never exposing themselves or their passengers to the dangers below. Their heads were a strange mix of equine and simian. I found myself relieved that their gaze was placid. The malevolence in such creatures would be terrifying.

I stood behind Torine as he spoke.

“Those who have had so much taken from them in fear,” His voice was deep and rich drawing in all who listened, “I give you a meager choice to make up for your years of mistreatment.” He turned to the tree stride barge, it had more than enough room to transport the survivors of the tower altogether, “You may board this barge and you will be taken to any place of your choosing and given a year’s worth of wages equivalent to that of a merchant to start your lives anew.” He paused as hope emerged in the newly unbound mages, “Or you may choose to remain here and become inquisitors yourself, agents of change to stand against the tides of corruption that led to this cursed place becoming what it is. The choice is yours.”

The mages stood nervously whispering with each other. I heard mentions of what if it was some kind of betrayal. Some lie. I did not know how they could wonder that; the evidence was right there with the bodies of our tormentors. Torine was offering justice and so much more. I moved deliberately and knelt in front of Torine, “I have already made my choice Master Inquisitor, I am yours.”

There was a noise behind someone else kneeling, “As am I Master Inquisitor.” Xaot’s voice rang out, “I am tired of being powerless.”

Mage after mage knelt in front of Torine. By the end, all except for ten of us had knelt and pledged themselves. I could not help, but glare slightly at the ten who took the pouches of gold and boarded the barge. This man had given us a gift more precious than freedom and they were throwing it away. I looked back at Torine and saw he was smiling at me.

“Second-guessing your choices, Victor?” He asked with a knowing smile.

“Not in this lifetime Master Inquisitor,” I responded with a matching smile.

I watched the barge leave with an angry look of contempt.

“Return to your quarters if you would like, otherwise my men could use some help cleaning up the mess that our predecessors left behind.” Torine laughed and I saw mages cast off their robes revealing their free wrists. I stayed where I was.

“Not leaving Victor?” He asked with a smile.

I shrugged, “I pledged myself to you, not just the inquisition, but the man who gave me my freedom and vengeance.”

His smile was a thing of terror and satisfaction. This was a man who had done dark things to aid those like myself. I would do whatever he told me to, “Very well, let’s go fix up that arm of yours.” Torine looked back to Rosa, “I am going to finish Victor’s initiation into our ranks.”

Rosa nodded with a knowing smile as she marshaled several inquisitors and entered the tower.

Torine led me back to his office. “Sit,” His voice was pure authority.

I obeyed and sat in the same chair I had before, no defiance was on my lips though. Just admiration, I knew some of the bureaucracy in the church thanks to my teachings. He had taken a risk to free us and I knew it.

Torine pulled out some medical supplies and sat in the chair beside me, “Here unwrap that arm of yours.”

I undid the bandage and he poured something smelling strongly of alcohol upon it and began to clean the wound. He was gentle but firm as he ensured every inch of the wound was cleaned. The alcohol substance was like liquid hellfire, somehow, I managed to keep from yelping. Instead, I just hissed quietly.

He continued to work, “You have quite the pain tolerance it seems.”

I looked up from my arm that he was cleaning, “When you get an extra beating every time you scream you learn to manage yourself.”

He frowned, “Such things you had to endure.”

I looked away, “Well, it was just living here.”

“Yet you persevered,” Some stinging salve was applied as he spoke.

“I had no choice.” I managed to speak without the pain coloring my words too much.

He shook his head, “You misunderstand me.”

“What do you mean Torine?” I asked as he released my arm for a moment.

“When we are alone like this you may call me Arvin,” He smiled warmly at me and I felt my cheeks color, “Titles and my last name have their place when we are in the spotlight. Otherwise, I do have not much use for them. One’s value is based on their ability, not words.” He looked down to where my arm was. I was slightly shaking from the pain but had not moved as he had not told me that I could. In the past unpermitted movement had been gleefully punished by the templars. I realized this was a symptom of the abuse I had experienced and pulled my arm back to my lap. He nodded slightly, more to himself than anything.

“So, what do you mean Arvin?” I asked using his personal name. It felt odd and wonderful at the same time. Maybe one day I could call this man my friend. Forbidden thoughts flashed through my mind and I shook them off.

“Every other mage in this place was cowed by the threat of death when pushed. You thought,” He looked into my eyes and I found myself admiring the rich brown of his, “You were willing to spit fire and demand death when pushed beyond your limit. That is a rare thing, Victor. You are like gold found amidst the remains of a fire. Glowing and malleable from the fire, but gleaming all the same.”

I swallowed nervously, “I was just grieving.”

“Oh, so it was grief that caused you to pledge yourself to me?” Arvin smirked at me.

I shook my head quickly, “Gods no, it was admiration and gratitude. You administered justice when everyone else turned a blind eye. You were willing to do what others wouldn’t. You saved us, you saved me.”

He patted my shoulder and stood, “I suppose I did.” Arvin looked me over and cast his eyes over the carving on my arm, “That was a rather dramatic display, why that emblem? Why not the inquisitorial symbol?”

I looked back to his signet ring, “I am pledging myself to you Arvin, not the Inquisition. If you tell me to do the inquisition’s bidding, I will. I thought that was your personal emblem, so I chose that symbol.”

His smile grew wicked, “And if I told you to burn a church down?”

I met his dark gaze, “I think you know the answer, Arvin.”

“I suppose I can use this then,” He opened a cabinet and took something out of it. Arvin walked back to the table and set down what appeared to be an obsidian spider.

“What is that?” I asked, whatever it was definitely did not look like it came from Viroi.

“Over my years as Inquisitor and Master Inquisitor, I have come across many things. Those who preach would demand we destroy these items; I see a use for them though. Just like a certain mage.”

I blushed and looked down instinctively, “Doesn’t really explain what it is.” I commented looking away.

He chuckled, “Glad to know your loyalty has not quenched that fire within yourself.” Arvin tapped the rather threatening-looking spider. It was about the size of my palm with its legs spread out, “This is a device that a cult used to bind their members together in loyalty, a token of their god. Some arachnid thing.”

I looked more hesitantly at it, “It’s bond to a dark god?”

He shook his head, “It is merely a magical enchantment, only Viroi has divine power like that. I will use this to bind you to me, Victor. Your loyalty will become concrete, unbreakable.” His warm gaze found my eyes, “Will you accept this?”

I forced my fears to the side, “Yes.”

“Good,” Arvin looked like a cat with cream. He pricked his thumb and a single drop of blood fell on top of it, “Arvin Torine.” He spoke and then continued in some chant that I did not recognize. It was certainly nothing out of Viroi’s temples. “Now, do the same. Speak your name to the spider after sacrificing a drop of blood to it. Then place it on your wound.”

I obeyed. I squeezed my injured arm until a trickle of blood hit the spider. I immediately whispered my name to it, “Victor.” For a moment I debated saying a second name, but I brushed it off. That name was a fever dream. I placed the spider on my arm. For a moment I felt the coldness of the spider on my arm. Then all eight of its legs and the fangs plunged into my arm. I froze for a moment as the pain radiated out from it. I breathed deeply and felt my legs tensing against the pain. Then a burning sensation began to travel up my arm. The longer and further it went the worse the pain got. I managed to only hiss my pain until it reached my shoulder. Then it got exponentially worse. I screamed. I could not help it. The burning pain reached my heart and it truly felt as if liquid metal was being pumped through every vein and artery. I fell out of the chair and fought the urge to pull off the spider. Instead, I brought my free arm to my mouth and bit down. I tasted the metallic flavor of my own blood. The pain slowly spread to every arm and leg. Then it crept higher up my neck, along my jaw, in my ears. Then my brain itself. Amidst all of the pain, I heard a voice.

Finally, a proper host.

I gasped and forgot it as the agony in my body suddenly increased tenfold and I blacked out.

I woke up to Arvin sitting on his deck watching me, “Well, well, well,” His voice had lost the warmth of earlier, “I was not sure if you’d survive, but turns out you are much sturdier than you looked.”

I panted and felt the spider detach from my arm and fall lifeless to the ground. I wanted to ask him what he meant.

“I tested that thing on over a hundred mages over the past month and each of them died,” He snorted and poured what looked like a drink, “Yet the weak little faggot managed to survive.”

I blinked and sat up coughing as I wanted to ask him what he meant. Everything hurt and was too damn bright. Finally, I found my voice, “What? Faggot? Arvin why?” Something inside me hurt at his cruel words.

“I saw the way you looked at me,” His mocking laughter filled the room, “Have to admit that little blush of yours was adorable and maybe if I ever am in the mood, I might see how well you do.” There was no gentleness in his words. Just harsh mockery.

“Arvin, what are you talking about?” I coughed again and struggled to sit back in the chair. I needed to regain my strength, “Arvin? Tested?”

He looked at me coldly, “Yes that thing on the floor is the ‘Trials of Viroi’ thought your little friend was going to make it, but she died from the pain.” Arvin shrugged, “I had given up until you showed up. The audacity of you to curse at me. Almost endearing if it wasn’t for how gullible you were.”

My mind was filled with an image of Tiphani.

“If it makes you feel better, she called out your name at the end,” The Inquisitor’s smile was cruel. “’ Help me, Victor!!’ I think that was what she said. Or something like that. Might have just been incoherent screaming.”

“You killed Tiphani?” I found myself in the chair and looked for something to stab with. I needed something.

“Depends on how you define killed,” The bastard looked unconcerned. Then he saw me reaching and unsheathed his sword.

I felt rage building and replacing the pain slowly, if I was going to die it would be on my terms. I fought to get to my feet.

He slid the sword hilt first to me, “Don’t touch it, Victor.” His voice was a whisper.

I reached for the sword and my hand froze, hovering over the hilt. No matter how I struggled, I could not reach it. It was like my hand was locked over it.

“You see Victor,” The Inquisitor’s voice was cold, “That little thing you placed on your arm is how the priests bond members of that cult to themselves. It could only do it once more after I tortured the priest into recharging it. You have to follow my every command, every instruction.”

“No,” I whispered.

“Kneel.” He commanded.

I fell to my knees as someone had pulled me.

“You see it is very important for that whole obedience thing, because this little device allows for the transference of skills from one to the other,” He stood behind me and placed both hands on my shoulders, “You now have all the skills that I do. My talent for weaponry, my dancing ability, everything. Then you have your magic.”

I spat, “I don’t have magic. I never had.”

He patted my shoulders and sat in one of the chairs beside me, “But you do, otherwise that thing would have killed you instantly and painlessly.” He smiled at me and picked up his drink, “But let’s test it. Chill this drink, don’t freeze it.”

My gaze focused on the cup and I felt a strange tingle in my spine involuntarily. Then the glass frosted over slightly.

The Inquisitor drank it with a broad smile, “It took almost thirty years, but I finally managed it. A pet mage, with another army of mages loyally training to support me.”

I stared at him in shock.

He chuckled, “Oh I am Cardinal Quill by the way, well Quill has been dead for a while I just acted in his stead.”

I felt vomit rising in my throat.

“Gods,” He smiled at me, “That look on your face is absolutely delicious.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I could not help the whimper, “I-I-I-”

“Would have served me loyally if you never knew the truth,” He rolled his eyes at me, “I am telling you because I want to. I adore that look of betrayal in your eyes, the hopelessness that is creeping in.” He sipped his drink, “The sheer misery, soon you will want to die, but you won’t be even able to cut yourself without my permission.”

I stared at him, I tried to tell my body to move, to attack him. To freeze him like I could have frozen that liquid. My body remained still.

“Maybe if you beg me enough, I will beat you to alleviate some stress.” Arvin laughed, “Ah, I had hoped it would be a woman, but I think I can still have fun with you.”

Fear made my stomach drop at the implication.

“Oh, is the little faggot not so excited now?” Arvin mocked me. “Anyways, I am telling you this so we can get over the tears now.”

“What?” I whispered quietly.

“You see the only thing I can’t control with this is your mind.” He explained, “You are my tool, my weapon, my armor, you will do anything I tell you.” The inquisitor crouched down and the warmth I thought I had seen was a lie, his eyes were hard as chips of stone, “You will kill, torture, or even rape whoever I command you to.”

“No,” I whispered.

“Yes,” He smiled, “We are going to give that magic a test now.”

“Please no.” I had a horrible feeling.

“You will use your magic to fly to where those mages who turned down my offer are. You will kill them and burn all evidence. You will leave no witnesses. Go now.” The Inquisitor commanded.

My body stood against my will and walked out the door. I walked up to the tower crying as I walked. I tried to delay myself, to grab something I could hang on to. My arms did not listen. There were no loopholes. The body understood the intent and the words. On the balcony, I felt that tingle along my spine, and I was airborne. I felt my strength draining, but my body did not care. I found the tree striders. I landed on the barge. The ten mages looked at me in shock. I wept as I used the sword I found to cut them all down. They begged and pleaded for mercy. They cried as they asked why I was doing this. I was only allowed to weep and beg for forgiveness over and over. Then it was done. All ten had been butchered. I looked at the driver an old man who looked horrified. My sword found his neck easily enough. No witnesses. I then found a torch and set fire to the barge. I flew back into the air and used my sword to pierce the brains of the gentle striders. I left nothing but carnage behind me. By the time I landed at the tower again, my body was screaming in exhaustion. My body ignored it and marched back down to the headmaster’s office.

I entered and saw Rosa perched on the desk as Arvin caressed her half-naked body. He saw my entry and chuckled, “Well Rosa my dear, look who got back so quickly. Still covered in blood too.”

I stayed silent and simply waited.

“Have yourself a good cry as you butchered your friends?” He said with a smile, “No need to answer I can see the tear tracks in the blood.” He stood and stretched, “Now the bond requires that I give you one thing that I cannot order you to do.” He walked to me, “Kneel.”

Once again, I dropped to my knees, my mind was threatening to break.

“Make your one rule, make it carefully.” He made me look at him, “If you make the rule something that makes you worthless to me, I will make every person in this building suffer.” His voice was ice cold. I had no doubt he would.

I was shaking as I fought to find something to ask for, I swallowed nervously. I finally looked down, “Please don’t make me rape anyone.” That was one request, just one. Maybe he would let it go.

He cocked his head, “That’s it? No protections for yourself?”

I shook my head, “That’s it.”

“You going to kill anyone I tell you to?” He asked. I tried to look away.

“I have no choice,” Tears leaked from my eyes as I looked at those heartless eyes.

He snorted in disgust, “So be it, that is easy enough to do. I doubt you are strong enough to even pull it off if I told you to. By the blood bound to you, I will never demand you rape another being.” He smiled mockingly, “I have others for that so don’t think this absolves you in some way.”

Something inside me just broke. He was right, I was now just as evil and cruel as him. I was his tool. His murderous weapon. I nodded, “I know.”

He stopped smiling and cocked his head at me, “Oh?”

I looked at the floor as I spoke, “I am yours, I can do nothing to change that, I am just as guilty as you, I knew you were capable of dark things when I carved my arm,” I looked at the forearm which now had a dark tattoo pattern in the mirror image of his emblem, “I just thought you did them for justice, I was wrong and this is the price of my naivety.”

He nodded, “Indeed it is. I honestly expected more cursing.”

I laughed bitterly, “You have broken me, Arvin. I know worse is coming too. Eventually, I will just be an empty shell for you to command. I just hope it comes sooner than later.”

“He’s just saying what you want to hear master,” Rosa said as she spun to look at me. Her eyes were full of curious disdain.

“Rosa, Victor must speak the truth to me, it is a requirement. Every word that comes out of his mouth is truth.” The Inquisitor grinned widely, “Tell me, Victor, when did you feel that little crack in your mind? Describe it.”

I looked at him in horror as my mouth began to move. I told him in brutal detail of me cutting down those I once called friends. How when they started begging me to stop, I just felt something in my heart break. How I gave up hope as I cut the driver down. The emptiness I felt on the way back.

He laughed, “Oh Victor, this is just the beginning,” His eyes glinted in the dimness of the room, “By the end of it you might find yourself having fun.” He gestured at the door in the back of the office. “That is the butler’s area for the main bedroom. It is your new home. Go rest and make sure you eat well. I have to make sure my new toy is healthy and capable.”

I nodded and went into the room and laid down on the narrow bed. I was asleep before I hit the pillow.

I wish I could say my sleep was peaceful, but instead, nightmares haunted every moment. I was commanded to sleep though so there was no freedom from the bodies which haunted me.

Over the next six months, my life became a miserable routine. I was dressed in a matching inquisitorial uniform to the Master Inquisitor. I followed him everywhere to protect him from harm. He saw to my training personally every day to ensure I was able to complete the tasks he gave me. The other mages slowly learned magic at the discretion of the Inquisitors. I was the only one who knew this was Torine’s personal army. Then once a week he would send me an assignment. Never too far, but my body count got higher and higher each time. He never told me why I was killing or torturing, just my target. There were no excuses for me to hide behind, no pretenses, I was just a killer doing my master’s bidding. The tears eventually stopped. Instead, I was just filled with numbness. I wanted to be punished, to hurt myself, to kill myself. I wanted to suffer for my crimes. I could do nothing though. I could not even starve myself as he bound me not to harm myself. Then I cracked.

I had been weeping and crying. Trying to hit myself and feeling my arms stop each time. I found myself up and entering the office where he was working on paperwork. He was a ruthless, murderous bastard, but also an efficient one.

“I did not call for you, why are you here?” He asked without looking up. The bond I had been tricked in to let us know where the other was at all the time.

“I want to hurt.” My words came out even as I tried to stop them. I hung my head.

He laughed, “The guilt getting too bad?” His smile mocked me and enraged me.

I nodded silently.

He snapped his fingers and the cords that had been holding my body had been released. For a moment I debated going for my sword, but I knew it would be pointless. “Why?”

“I want you to beg, to beg of your own free will. Or you can go back to bed.” His wicked smile haunted me.

I turned and went back to bed. I tossed and turned until my body forced me into sleep. Every morning though he gave me a knowing look when I woke up after that. Meanwhile, more blood accumulated on my hands as my former peers became a more and more powerful fighting force.

One night I came back and found Rosa and Arvin dining. I gave my standard report. He had me burn an entire convent of nuns and slaughter the surrounding village. Already I knew there would be new bodies in my nightmare. Bits of dried blood fell from me as I stood there expressionless in front of the two of them. On the way back I had passed more than a few of my fellow mages who thought I was doing some kind of holy work. They would praise me and congratulate me. The Inquisitor’s instructions meant I had to smile and play along. Even as every cell in my body screamed for me to warn them. To tell them to flee. All the while I was envious of them. They learned to call on magic in natural ways. Spells, incantations, even elaborate hand signs. My magic was ripped from me every time I was instructed to use it. I had no control over it or say beyond my instructions. It was a violation of my spirit and soul as I was forced to use my magic to slay and kill.

There was a snapping of fingers and I came back to the present. I saw Rosa looking at me curiously, “Where did you go? Looked like no one was home.” Her voice was a mockery of me.

“Answer her Victor.” The inquisitor commanded between bites.

As always, my words and feelings were pulled from me, “I was reflecting on my misery and how much I hate what I have become.” My tone was neutral despite the tears that dripped down my face. I wanted to hold some part of my secret. My deepest feelings. But I was denied even that privacy.

The Inquisitor laughed, “By Viroi, the lad is so entertaining. He is beyond his breaking point and still hanging onto his moral code.”

“Did you stop trying to break him?” Rosa’s smile was cold and cruel, “He has been given too much of a break.”

I felt my eyes widen, “Please Arvin, no, please, no more.” I begged, I dropped to my knees, “Please just let me obey and just be miserable. No more.”

He looked at me curiously, “Oh? What is this?” His gaze sharpened with a cruel curiosity, “Are there still things about you that I don’t know Victor

Forbidden thoughts and dreams were forced to the surface. Desires I had buried deep and tried to forget. I knew the punishment for it and I knew this monster would be even crueler. Still, the answer was dragged from my lips, “Yes. Oh, gods please don’t make me, please, please, please.” Tears were streaking down my face. I found myself looking at the floor, “Please, Arvin, for the love of Viroi. Please don’t make me do this.”

He got up and walked over to me. I winced at every step as Rosa smiled cruelly at me. His fingers lifted my chin gently and I found myself staring into those merciless eyes that watched me with amusement.

His voice was cold but amused. Like he was watching something perish funnily, “Oh Victor,” He chuckled darkly. “Normally this is where I would make you offer up something in exchange for my mercy.” He let go of my chin, “It is always so interesting to see what people will give up for their secrets. Secrets, sex, money, loved ones, almost anything really,” He sat hack down while facing me. His smile was evil in its intent, “I don’t have to do that with you though, do I?”

I shook my head, “No sir.” Tears continued to run down my face, “Please Master. Please, you already have what you want from me.”

“Do I?” He asked, his tone hardening, “Do tell me what you think I want.”

“A weapon, a tool, something that follows your every whim without question,” I answered feeling my hands curling into fists in desperation, “You have that, I have no choice.”

I will never forget that cold smile that seemed to burn into my soul and permanently remove any hope of ever having mercy again, “Yet here you are, weeping like a child on my floor. When I am finished with you, there will be no more tears, no more Victor really. You will be my will made manifest.” The temperature seemed to drop. He leaned in, “Now Victor tell me, tell me every little secret you have. And as you speak, know that I will use each of them to break you, to reduce you to what I need you to be.”

I tried to fight it. I tried to bite my tongue off. Nothing happened and the words were dragged out of me. Maybe I could choose the truth, “I like men and women.” I said with a gasp.

“Oh, I knew that already little faggot. Continue,” He laughed at my struggle.

“I used to fantasize about being dominated,” I tried to keep it short.

“Oh, how is that?” He chuckled; the inquisitor was reveling in my humiliation.

“I wanted to be held down and used,” Each word bubbled up and I could not contain them. My shoulders were shaking.

“Maybe I could toss you to a barracks of soldiers on the frontier they might appreciate something other than orcs, would you like that?” His eyes pierced me.

I shook my head, “No.” I managed to gasp.

He tapped his chair, “Is that no because you don’t want it, or no because it would be me doing this?”

I retched as my body started aching from my attempts to not speak and not tell the truth, “Because it would be you.”

“Look at this Rosa, he is fighting this harder than he fought killing his friends and innocents. Look at him struggle uselessly. His smile became more and more malevolent with every question, “So what you are saying that if you happened to stumble into a group of willing guards, you would enjoy it. Is that right little faggot?”

I coughed, “Yes.” My tone was bitter. I hated myself more at that moment than ever before. I hated my weakness, my gullibility, my very being, my every desire, my every want I had buried deep.

“He is a slutty faggot then?” Rosa giggled, “I had guessed something like that when he was crying like a bitch on that balcony.”

Blood leaked from my nose. I begged that he not tell me to continue. It was all I could to keep my jaws clamped shut.

“Should I drag out every little depraved fantasy he has?” Arvin the cruel asked, then he squatted and made me look up, “No, there is something else. Something deeper. Everything else is morsels. Tell me Victor what are you fighting so hard to keep from me?”

My entire body shook, my blood felt like it was boiling, and my bones felt like they were growing spikes inside me and tearing me apart. More blood dripped from my nose, and my ears, then I retched and vomited blood. My mouth was open and I spoke against my will even as I cried, “I hate being a man, my parents found me dressing as a girl when I was a child and they got a neighbor to report me for my magic so they would not be disgraced. I hate being a boy, I want to be a girl, I want to be a girl so badly it hurts. I hate my body, I hate my looks. I am pathetic. No one would ever want me if they knew.” Hot tears dripped down my cheeks. I sagged and gave up. My biggest secret was out.

The inquisitor, my tormentor, made me look up at him. He used the tip of his boot. I met those merciless eyes. He smiled as he spoke, “You are right, no one wants you, Victor. Not even your parents.” He laughed and the cold sound echoed, “You are worse than a little faggot. You are an abomination. A cursed thing not meant to even have drawn breath. No one on this land would want something as abhorrent as you.”

My shoulders shuddered as I sobbed, I knew he was right and I hated it.

“You are a disgrace to the natural order,” He kicked me almost casually. Not hard enough to injure, but it hurt all the same, “Such a pathetic creature. If it wasn’t for your usefulness, I might burn you right now. You fucking worthless trash, no wonder you glowed at any kindness. You knew you didn’t deserve it.”

Every word hit like an anvil; it was all true.

“You fought so hard to preserve your imagined dignity, but you could not spare the same effort for the innocent. Right?”

“Yes,” I whimpered.

“A pathetic, selfish, worthless, abomination, that’s you, isn’t it?” He whispered in my ear.

I nodded, “Yes Arvin.”

He kicked me again, “No trash, you do not speak my name ever again. It is master, understand?”

I nodded, “Yes Master.” My heart was shattered, there was nothing for me to hold onto. Nothing to give me grace. Just the cold truth.

“You can hate me all you want my little abomination, but never forget; I am the only thing giving you purpose,” He yanked my head back by my hair, “Understand?”

“Yes Master,” I felt more tears slip down my cheeks. At that moment something died inside me. I just gave up.

He dropped my head and wiped his hand on his pants contemptuously, “I am going on a walk with Rosa to inspect our willing strike force you gave me. Clean up your mess, then go to your room and wait to be called.”

“Yes, Master.” I took off my shirt and began wiping up the blood and vomit on the floor. After thirty minutes and multiple buckets of water I had cleaned up the evidence of my breaking. I stumbled to my room and stared at my haunted face. There were no more tears. Just dried blood and snot staining my face. I turned off every light in my room and sat in my small tub of cold water. I cleaned the blood off of me and laid down. Sleep came along with the nightmares. This time there was something else hovering in the back. I could not bring myself to care.

The next morning the Master summoned me to his office. I opened the small door at the ringing bell and stood awaiting his command. I stood there for at least three hours as he conducted his business. I was dimly aware of him writing orders and passing messages. I could not focus directly it was as if a haze had been dropped over my senses.

“Come here and kneel on the floor,” The Master pointed at the floor beside him.

I obeyed and stared ahead without a word. His desk was made of some kind of dark wood. Probably came from the deep forest.

“I need a new name for you,” The Master commented as he tapped his fingers on his desk, “Any kind of human name is too good for you.”

I said nothing, my input was not required. Once I would have begged to keep it, but now I could not be bothered. What was the point, I was trash after all. Just an evil selfish piece of trash.

He waited for a protest that never came, I could feel satisfaction trickle through the bond I had agreed to.

“No protest? No begging? Tell me, what is your purpose?” He waited.

“To serve you, master,” I answered instantly. I was done fighting.

“And your greatest wish?” He continued.

“To die when you allow me to,” I craved that emptiness. If I was dead, I did not have to think anymore. I did not have to even exist.

“If I relinquished control of you this moment and allowed you to do anything, what would you do?” He asked.

“Cut my own throat,” It was not even a choice anymore. Death would be my only release.

He laughed, “What are you?”

“Trash,” I answered, why pretend anymore. I knew what I was.  The master’s satisfied laughter echoed in the chamber, “Do you have any desire to betray me or disobey me?”

            “No Master,” It was true. There was no point.

            “Good,” He paused, “As a reward for learning your place, what do you want to be called?”

            “I do not know master,” I did not care. Trash, faggot, worthless, abomination, these all applied to me.

            More satisfaction pulsed in the bond, “Well I have to make it sound somewhat decent so people think it is some kind of promotion. Can’t let anyone know that I have an abomination serving me.” He made a show of thinking.

            “Sparrow, that is your new title. It sounds nice, but just like a sparrow; you have no purpose besides what I decide. When I am finished with you, I will kill you. Understand?”

           “Yes Master,” I continued staring at the wooden desk a few mere inches from my face.

           “In private, I will call you what you are though; trash, filth, scum. Understand?” His voice was cold and cruel.

           I nodded, “Yes Master.”

           “Return to your room trash.”

           I obeyed and shut the door behind me.

           That was the last time I left the room for a month. Every night brought more nightmares, more of that feeling of something growing closer behind the dozens of bodies. I hoped for a monster. I would wake in the morning, eat the meal delivered to my room, bathe, then exercise. The Master’s command to stay healthy motivated me. I had a new uniform given to me. It was a mirror of the inquisitor soldiers’ uniform, except instead of a skull mask, I just had a blank mirrored surface. I wore the outfit whenever I left the room. After a month I came out for a parade and disappeared back into my little room. A dark place I could pretend that I no longer existed.

           Then the master came in one day while I was sitting in the dark waiting.

           “No light trash?” He asked while watching me.

           “Trash does not need light,” I responded. It was true. This was my rubbish bin until I was killed.

           He looked at me wearing the armor while sitting on the bed, “What do you do in here when I have no use of you?”

           I told him my routine. Eat, exercise, bathe, dress, and wait, then sleep.

           “Do you want anything?” The Master asked.

           “To die,” was my response.

           “No vengeance? No creature comforts?” he asked in a mocking tone as he kicked the wooden bed I slept on. There was a blanket I slept on and that was it. No padding, no comfort.

           I looked at him with an empty gaze, “No master. Trash needs nothing.”

           The master was silent for a long moment, “You have nothing left do you?”

           “I never had anything, just illusions. You broke them,” I almost felt sad. I felt the memory of tears. This time it was just fact.

           He nodded slowly, in his face there was an expression approaching pity, “Come on trash, you eat at my table today.”

           I nodded and stood, “Task?”

           He chuckled, “Wait for my command, and leave that mask here.”

           I obeyed and followed him out. Over the last few months, it seemed that he had branched out and one entire level belonged to him. The top-level. With the balcony, I used to flee to. I stared at it with just the ghost of emotion. He led me over to a dining table where Rosa was already dining. There was an older couple there as well. Several other dignitaries looked high ranking. They were all chatting eagerly.

           “Lord Arvin, what is this?” One of the dignitaries, a merchant if I had to guess, pointed at my plain armor and uniform.

           “This is my Sparrow, it serves me,” The master answered.

           I waited until my master pointed for me to sit at his left hand, and Rosa sat at his right. The dinner was delicious, but I could take no pleasure in it. I ate mechanically and drank water. Several of the guests looked at me in discomfort.

           The older man pointed at me, “For fuck’s sake Arvin, what is his problem? I just watched that man consume a dinner that kings would swoon at and he had zero reaction. He is like a damn automaton.”

           “It is my sparrow,” The master answered, “his behavior need not concern you yet.”

           “Yet?” The man asked in confusion.

           “All of you gathered here today are aware of my plans,” the Master stood ignoring the man’s bewilderment, “I will hold the office of Divine Messenger. I will become the voice of Viroi and you all will benefit from this.”

           There was loud clapping as the dinner guests applauded loudly. It was mostly a lie, they were excited and nervous. Without my own emotions, I saw theirs laid bare.

           “That is except for the Duke and Duchess,” the master turned and pointed at the older couple including the man who had asked about me, “You have tried to betray me no less than five times and quite frankly your meager financial support is no longer needed.”

           “This is madness!” The Duke, I supposed, stood and gave a show of outrage. I could see the fear, “Nothing benefits the betrayal of this council.”

           “Sit,” The master commanded. Over a dozen inquisitor soldiers stepped out from behind the curtains.

           Everyone sat and looked far more nervous.

           “Now I had spent far too long deciding on a punishment that would be satisfactory enough,” the Master said as he began to walk around the table. “It is honestly the only reason I had not acted sooner.”

           The couple was sweating as the other guests looked on nervously.

           “Then my little sparrow fell into my lap,” The Master smiled at me, “It told me a story, it told me how its parents had it falsely reported as a mage to save face.”

           I felt a tingle of confusion in me. Why was he talking about me?

           “I dig some digging after all at the very least it would be a good piece of information to dangle over someone’s head,” He paused behind the Duke and Duchess, “Imagine my surprise when I found out that its parents were none other than the Duke and Duchess of Landiver in the capital. Nobles who are closely related to the royal family.” He looked at me, “Sparrow meet the parents who cast you out.”

           I froze and stared in shock. I felt nauseous and angry all at once. They had abandoned me. I heard the Master’s voice in my head, who wouldn’t cast out an abomination.

           Just like that, I remembered my place. I bowed my head courteously, “Mother, Father.” I said nothing more. Trash had to wait to be told what to do.

           “Somehow this little Sparrow survived the worst I could do to this tower and ended up blessed with magic too, then it pledged itself to me. Every slaughter of our enemies recently has been at its hands. Villages, ships, nobles, bandits, whoever I sent it against.” The Master looked pleased, “So Duke Landiver, do you want to share why you cast out your son? Or should I?”

           The Duke, my father stood, “I have no son, that thing is an abomination and I handled it appropriately. If you know all of this why have you not executed that thing?” He was glowering at me.

           “Husband!” The woman intervened, “It was still our child.”

           “You were the one who came to me in hysterics, you know I am right.” He rumbled.

           The woman fell silent and looked away.

           Somehow each word felt like a knife. I knew then why I had been brought here. It was so that I would never forget that I did not deserve a single good thing. Not love, not happiness, not even freedom. Even my own parents had no concern for me.

You are reading story Of Swords and Dragons at novel35.com

           “Sparrow, do you have feelings on this?” The master purred in my ear.

           “No Master, my father is right. I should have been killed,” I answered, “I have no place and am worthless.”

           The guests looked shocked. The merchant who had accosted me looked at me in horror, “Child your parents just said you should die and you agree with them?”

           I looked at him, “I am an abomination, trash, filth, scum. There is no place for me in this world.”

           The master clapped, “Isn’t my sparrow a delight?”

           None of the guests looked excited, “Lord Arvin,” A woman wearing a purple dress looked at me with pity, “What did you do to that child?”

           “An awful lot of concern for this abomination, Princess Alyxa.” He commented evenly then smiled wickedly, “If you want to play with it, just ask nicely.”

           The woman hesitated then nodded, “Perhaps, what you have done to it is horrifying and fascinating.” The pity became curiosity.

           I just looked down at my plate.

           “Now for my final trick,” I knew my Master was looking at me, “Sparrow, gut your parents. Don’t rush it, let them see you coming.”

           I stood slowly and pushed out of my chair. I gently pushed the chair back in.

           “Son, what are you doing?” The Duke asked.

           An odd choice of words for an abomination, “I am about to kill you and mother.” I began walking towards him and drew my sword slowly, “As Master commanded.”

           “Listen to me,” He began to stumble back while my mother hid behind him, “I am your father. You would not kill your own father, would you?”

           They moved too slowly; I was within striking distance. My sword I lunged and buried the sword in my father’s gut and a dagger in my mother’s. I cut with both hands and twisted before pulling the blades out. I stood there with my parent’s blood dripping from my weapons. Something inside me that I did not know even existed just winked out. They lay on the ground writhing. The wounds would only grow more painful over time.

           “Sparrow, finish it,” Master commanded.

           I knelt and plunged the dagger into the back of their heads. It killed them instantly. I stood and awaited instructions. Part of me wanted to cry, and the other part just wanted to stop feeling.

           My master looked to the table and his voice took on a more serious tone, “My sparrow will kill without hesitation or mercy. It is my will made manifest. Nothing can stop it either unless you find someone strong enough to stand against it. In which case I wish you luck. I have already tested it on paladins and clerics. There were no survivors.”

           The guests were silent then the woman in the purple dress spoke, “You have made your point Lord Arvin. What is your next step?”

           My master smiled, “My little sparrow is going to kill the divine messenger.”

           The walk back to my room behind his office was long. He had sent me away after the deed was done. I just hoped that maybe one of the Divine Messenger’s guards could kill me. I reached my room, bathed, and cleaned my swords and armor. Then after several hours of picking my parent’s gore from my weapons. I laid down on my hard wooden bed. I stared at the ceiling. Somehow the master always found one more thing to take from me. I was still there when he came into my room later.

           I sat up and waited for instructions. He was leaning on the doorframe silhouetted by the light, “What did you learn tonight trash?”

           “That you will find anything I could have deluded myself into imagining and strip it from me. That you do not tolerate betrayal,” I shrugged and stared at him, “Anything else is beyond me and does not concern me.”

           “Do you think that lesson tonight was for you?” Master asked.

           “I don’t know, but I lost something else I had tonight I did not know I had. I assumed it was intentional,” I responded.

           “Explain,” I could feel his gaze narrow.

           “I did not know it, but some part of me had hoped my parents would at least care for me as their child, as something more than trash,” I realized my hands were fidgeting and I forced them to stop, “You revealed that they hated me, and then had me kill them.”

           “It was meant to be a reward for you sparrow,” He said in a chiding voice, “Didn’t you enjoy killing the people who cast you out?”

           “No,” My tone was numb, “I am not meant to enjoy things. I do not deserve happiness, love, or anything good.” I looked at him, “I am trash, trash does not deserve rewards, nor does it understand them.”

           He looked at me for a long moment before shaking his head, “I may have gone too far with you sparrow.”

           I looked at him, “Master?” I asked, I prayed he would at least hear me out.

           “Yes, Sparrow?” He looked surprised at my voice.

           I could not keep the hope from my voice, “After the Divine Messenger is dead, will you kill me?”

           For the first time my Master looked shocked at my words, “Is that truly what you desire Sparrow?”

           I nodded, “Please Master, I don’t want to live anymore.” Hot tears filled my eyes and dripped down, “I don’t deserve to live. I never should have been born.”

           “I have a lot that needs doing Sparrow, your death is a long way off.” He said almost distractedly.

           “But there is an end for me?” I asked desperately. For a moment I had hope.

           Master walked to me; he cupped my face in both of his hands. My heart sped up. Just one quick twist and my life would be over. I knew he knew how to do it.

           “If I have my way Sparrow, you will live like this forever. Never knowing that taste of death you crave. Forever bound to me.” My master said softly and cruelly.

           My last hope shattered. I had hoped for an end to my torment. There was to be none. Tears dripped down my face as I sobbed.

           I felt satisfaction pulse through our bond, he let go of my face and stood. “My only regret sparrow is I broke you far too quickly. Your anguish is so fucking delightful. Don’t worry, eventually, you will come to enjoy the things I have you do. Then you will have some relief.”

           I fell to the floor and struck it repeatedly, “Why?!” I screamed in agony, “You already broke me, I can’t fight you, I am helpless, why do you continue?!”

           “Because,” Master paused, “Your agony and suffering are very sweet delicacies. Especially when I can feel the moment your will breaks through the link.” He looked back at me with a smile shining in the darkness, “Every time you develop a tolerance for the horrors you endure, for the suffering, I will break it down so you feel this again. And again, and again. Until you only know to suffer and then you revel in spreading that same suffering to others. I want to feel your glee when you cut someone down.”

           I looked at him in horror, “Am I not enough of an abomination already?”

           He walked back to me and smiled with cruelty down at me, “I want a monster. And one day you will become my monster. And when that day comes, you will thank me.”           He walked out and shut the door.

           I screamed, and cried, and screamed again. My soul ached; I knew it was true. I could not fight him; it was only a matter of time. I kept screaming until my throat was ragged and no more sound would come out. I wanted to cut myself, bash my head into a pulp, I wanted to ram my sword through my heart.

           I picked up my dagger and tried to move it to cut myself. As always, my body refused. I screamed again. A wretched sound that could have woken the dead. Then I just collapsed on the floor. My suffering would never end.

           The next morning, he called me out of my room. I walked out in full armor and stood before him and Rosa, “Feeling better trash?” Master smiled knowingly at me.

           I felt my legs shake and shudder, he had no doubt felt every bit of my agony and loved it, “No master.” I answered.

           “You have the most delightful screams, normally I have to break every bone in someone’s body for that kind of scream,” Master taunted me.

           My legs gave out and I collapsed to my knees, “What is your task?” I gasped. My heart was heaving in my chest. I knew this was a sign of a heart attack thanks to the knowledge my master had transferred to me. My body obeyed him though and did not carry through. I was not allowed to die.

           “Go to the divine citadel, kill the Divine Messenger, and return. No witnesses,” He commanded.

           I stood despite my legs being weak and climbed to the top of the tower. I flung myself off and let the magic carry me. I traveled by air and only walked when I was about to pass out from exhaustion. In three days, I reached the tower. It was a massive structure carved out of the purest white marble and spiraled up towards the heavens. I walked in. My inquisitor uniform stopped any from accosting me as inquisitors were rather common. I spoke to none and ascended the tower. I knew the Divine Messenger would be at the top. I climbed past countless rooms and levels. After eight hours of climbing, I finally stopped and rested. It was said the citadel was like a holy city. Then I climbed further. After another four hours, I reached a garden. I would have once considered it beautiful. Then I saw her. The Divine Messenger, a woman slightly older than me. I stepped out into the gardens. Then I was attacked.

           Guards in pure white plate armor leaped from the walls where they were hiding in plain sight. They were strong paladins. They were not prepared for a mage who could roast them in their armor and fight like a skilled swordsman. I took heavy injuries, but it was done. Their blood watered the garden. I staggered towards the divine.

           She turned and faced me, “Stop.”

           My entire body froze. Still, I strained against the invisible bonds that would not give me free.

           She tapped the ground and a circle spread from her, “Speak the truth.”

           I suddenly realized that this woman was not some figurehead like the master had thought. She possessed real power.

           The Messenger made the symbol of Viroi, “You will answer my questions assassin.”

           I fought against the bonds to carry out my mission. I knew I would not answer anything the bond prevented it. After all, one of the first commands, I had been given was never to betray the master.

           “Who sent you?” She asked in an almost pleasant tone of voice.

           I went to speak and then my body started convulsing. My jaw locked shut and I found I could no longer breathe. I prayed for death. Then the pressure stopped.

           The Messenger was staring at me thoughtfully, she tapped her foot on the ground and the white circle emerged again, “Are you acting of your own volition?”

           I found myself trying to answer and then convulsing again. It could still lead to a betrayal and the bond knew it.

           The messenger just ended the spell again. Then tapped her foot again.

           I wanted to cry; this would not be good. Every convulsion felt like liquid fire.

           This time the circle pulsed golden as it went over me and grew smaller and smaller. Then it sealed around my arm. My arm with the bond felt like it was plunged into liquid magma. But my mind was free. I could end it. I scrambled for my dagger on my belt and had it to my neck. The blade barely cut into my neck before she spoke.

           “Stop,” Her command was imperious this time.

           I wept as my body seized up and refused to move an inch, “Please my lady, please let me kill myself before he seizes control again. Please.”

           She walked up to me and inspected my arms. She saw the mark on my left arm and frowned. Then she started chanting. I felt the coils of the bond being dragged through my body back to my left arm. I screamed as it was pulled into my arm. Wound slowly back up. I begged her to stop as I shook within her constraint. I saw that arm was black and looked decayed. Like it was rotten with angry red magic trying to spill out of it.

           She pushed that golden circle up to my shoulder, “I am sorry.”

           I looked at her in surprise and then there was a sharp pain and the smell of cooked meat filled my nostrils. I looked down and saw my severed arm slowly burning under a golden flame. There was an aching agony and while I still could not move, I could not feel that bond. I paused and bit my tongue. Blood filled my mouth. I smiled.

           A sudden spell of white hit me and I found my tongue healed and the stump where my arm had been was smoothed over with a flawless scar. The spell restraining me stopped and I collapsed.

           “If you move to harm yourself or me, I will place a hold on you again, do you understand?” She commanded.

           Tears dripped down my face, “Yes ma’am, thank you, ma’am.”

           The messenger’s face became one of surprise, “I dispelled that dark magic that was giving you unholy power and took your arm. Why are you thanking me?”

           “Because I am free again.” I smiled, “As soon as you are done with me I will throw myself off of this tower.”

           She tapped her foot, “Why do you wish to kill yourself?”

           “Because I deserve it,” Was my immediate response. Tears dripped down my face, “I can finally end it.”

           Concern was written on her face, “Before anything else, tell me who sent you assassin.”

           “Master Inquisitor Arvine Torine. He is building an army of mages at the old mages' tower for some reason. He made me his assassin using that magic. Under his orders I killed the convent at Oldridge, I slaughtered the village of Bersk, I killed off the three noble families of Downs, Vilx, and Fivis down to the children, and oh gods there is so much more,” I turned and vomited into the grass until just bile was coming up, “He had Cardinal Quill killed at least fifteen years ago, that wasn’t me, and has been slowly exterminating everyone in the tower as he looked for someone compatible with that mark. I pledged myself to him after I thought he liberated us and he put a spider statue from a cult on me and it bound me to him. It gave me his knowledge and abilities but meant I had to obey his every word. And I did. I have killed so many.” I retched again.

           The Messenger looked shocked and snapped her fingers, mere seconds more white armored paladins surrounded her and me. She played back my words with some spell and the paladins immediately left except for two who were flanking her.

           “What is your name Assassin?” The Messenger asked.

           “Trash, scum, or filth, my master Arvin called me Sparrow when he needed a polite term,” I answered and her eyes widened.

           “Those are not names,” she said solemnly.

           I shrugged, “It is what I am. I am cursed and deserve nothing. I only want one thing,” I felt tears of happiness running down my face.

           “What is that?” One of the paladins said behind their voice muffled slightly by their helmet.

           “I want to die, I don’t care how painful or long it takes, I just want this to end,” I dropped to my knees, “Just please kill me.”

           The paladins looked to the messenger, she just came and knelt in front of me, “I am having Lord Arvin arrested for his crimes. I have dispatched an army myself. You don’t have to fear him.”

           I laughed bitterly, “Until he reengages that spell again. I am a waste of air milady. I killed your guards; they were probably your friends I deserve it. If not for that then for all the innocents I murdered.” My laughter became hysterical, “I am a murderer of children. It does not get much worse than that.”

           “Did you do it willingly?” She asked.

           “Of course not,” Tears dripped down my face, “I fought every moment till I wept blood and vomited. Then I did it anyway.”

           “Tell me what this bond did.” She demanded.

           I told her everything from the first time I met him till the moment I got here. I told her what its effects were and what happened when I fought. I told her the things he forced out of me. How he made me kill my parents. Everything. I wanted her to hate me. I wanted her to tell her guards to strangle me.

           “Please milady, just let me jump off the edge. My blood won’t even be on your hands.” I begged.

           “No,” She cupped my cheek softly and then hugged me tightly. My bloodied clothes stained her pure white garments red, “You are a victim here.”

           “Take the assassin to the cells on this level and confine them there,” She instructed, then held up her hand.

           “What do you plan on doing the moment you are alone?” She asked.

           I was still in her zone of truth, “I will bash my head against the wall until I die.”

           She sighed, “Bring the assassin to my rooms. I will watch them.”

           “Your divinity,” One of the guards spoke, “He could kill you.”

           She sighed, “I seemed to have stopped him just fine and successfully interrogated him without you. I can watch my own assassin.”

           The paladin guards stared at her before saluting. I began mentally preparing to sprint for the edge and throw myself off. I was looking towards the edge and missed the guard moving as they seized me.

           I looked at them, “Please just kill me, please.”

           I could see the confusion as they looked at each other, but they just carried me to the Messenger’s rooms. They sat me in the middle of an expansive sitting area and shut the portal door behind us. I heard a click as they locked it from the outside.

           I sat where I had been placed and stared emptily at the wall while the messenger sat on one of the cushioned chairs. I was vaguely aware of her watching me.

           “Do you have a name I could call you?” She asked calmly.

           I looked at her and felt defeated, she had shown her power in the gardens and I doubted I could kill myself without killing her first, “I was once called Victor.” I answered. That felt like so long ago now.

           She cocked her head at me, “You don’t like it.” It was not a question.

           I shrugged, “I already told you what kind of abomination I was.”

           “Well, my name is Taravina, but please just use Tara,” She introduced herself.

           “Nice to meet you, Tara,” I rubbed my stump idly. It felt like my arm was still there occasionally.

           “I am sorry I had to take your arm, it was the only way to contain and destroy that magic, it was working on consuming your body,” She looked sheepish.

           I snorted, “The Divine Messenger apologizing for taking the assassin’s arm when it was attacking her.”

           “The act was still painful and I do not like causing pain,” Tara answered sadly. Her golden-eyed gaze fell back on me, “Why do you call yourself it?”

           I sighed, “I am an abomination on every level and a mass murderer on every other. I am an object. Trash, scum, filth, worthless, and selfish,” I felt a tear run down my face. “I hate everything about myself, everything I have done, the only mercy for me is death.”

           Her eyes became hooded as she watched me silently for a few minutes more, “I was born with these eyes, a blessing from Viroi himself supposedly. Eyes that let me see the true nature of someone. I was raised in temples and convents until I was old enough to replace the previous Divine Messenger.”

           “I am surprised you manage not to puke when looking at me,” I said miserably.

           “Why?” She asked as she drank some water.

           “How many times do you want me to repeat myself?” I snapped, “Why is it so hard to kill a murderer for you?”

           She sighed, “Because I do not hate you, I want to help you.”

           I looked at her in anger, “Then let me kill myself!!”

           Tara shook her head, “Tell me when was the last time you actually slept and did not have nightmares?”

           I froze and sighed. Yelling about letting me kill myself was not going to get me anywhere, “Since before the bond, even then,” I paused, “Life in the mage’s tower was not pleasant.”

           “With your permission may I put you in a dreamless sleep?” Tara asked softly.

           “You can do that?” I asked feeling a trickle of hope.

           She nodded, “I can indeed.”

           “Look please, if you’re lying just, just, do anything else but lie like that. Like I just want to die. I don’t want to suffer anymore,” I was crying and barely coherent, “Please don’t be lying.”

           “I am not the one who bound you, come on, let’s get you in bed,” She held out her hand and I took it as a child.

           Tara led me to a massive bedroom with a giant fluffy bed, “Go on lied down.”

           “But my clothes,” I protested, I knew if I dirtied that bed, I would have to clean it.

           “There is a bathroom that you can use, but I have to accompany you.” At my nervous expression, she made a calming gesture, “I will not look, but I will not let you kill yourself. There has been enough death today.”

           I swallowed nervously and let her show me the bathroom. It was all white and gold with a tub that was larger than some dining tables. Tara showed me how to turn on the water where the soap was, and a set of razors.

           I looked at her and the gleaming blades, “Tara, do you seriously trust me with these?”

           “Only if you swear that you will not hurt yourself.” She responded, “I just thought you might like to shave. But you have to swear.”

           “Ok call up the magic and I will swear,” I braced for the spell or whatever. None came.

           “No magic, just you making me a promise,” Tara said softly.

           “But I could lie,” I protested, “I could swear and still do it. You would not know until it is too late.”

           “You are right, but a promise is a promise. I trust you to freely keep your word,” Tara said and extended her hand.

           “But I tried to kill you!” I exclaimed.

           “And? Do you swear or not?” She kept her hand out.

           I nervously took it and shook gently, “I swear I will only use these to shave and any nicks will be accidental.”

           “Thank you,” She pulled up a stool and faced away from me while humming. Tara had a nice little hum.

           I shyly disrobed and washed in the luxuriously warm water that somehow fell from the ceiling. I lathered up and washed myself multiple times. Then I ran into an issue. I managed to shave my face one-handed, but could not manage anywhere else. I filled up the tub and began to sulk. It felt so nice to actually have my face smooth for once. The razors I had been allowed for a brief time at the tower had been dull and tore at the skin. These had glided over. I may be able to even shave my legs.

           “Would you like some help?” Tara asked softly.

           I found myself blushing furiously, “Ah it’s ok, I managed to shave my face just fine.”

           I heard a long sigh, “That is not what I asked.”

           I sank lower into the bubbles, “Yes please.”

           She pulled the stool over next to the bathtub and sat down, “Ok whatever you would like help with, just push out of the water. That way you can maintain your dignity.”

           I looked away and held up my remaining arm.

           Tara took it gently and without question shaved it smooth. I stared at the hairless arm in shock for a moment and then shyly extended one leg out of the water. I winced waiting to be mocked. The mockery never came. Instead, Tara gently and diligently removed all hair from my legs.

           “There we go, anything else?” She asked.

           I shook my head. I watched her look at my clothes and armor she shook her head and carried them to a chute in the bathroom wall. She dropped them in.

           “Hey!” I sat up in the tub, “I don’t have anything to wear, but that.”

           Tara looked at me with a half-smile, “I suppose you will have to wear some of my clothes then.” She opened a cabinet and set a simple white dress and simple undergarments next to the tub, “I may have a spare robe lying around if you feel uncomfortable.”

           I did not answer. I was captivated by the dress. I had never seen a dress like this. I climbed out of the water and hurriedly dried myself. Slowly, hesitantly I pulled the underclothes on. They were silky smooth and barely fit over me. I did not care. I pulled the dress over my head and let it fall to my legs. It was a tight fit, but it covered my body from neck to ankles. Even my arm was covered in long sleeves that opened to a large opening in the end.

           “You look wonderful,” Tara’s voice surprised me.

           I went to strip the dress off out of fear and shame, but Tara’s hand on my shoulder stopped me.

           “Here, let me braid your hair. Tomorrow I can try to do more with it, but let’s just put it up so you can rest,” She guided me gently to the stool and hummed while she braided my hair and let me look at myself in the mirror. I felt myself shaking a little. I was so wonderfully different and horribly the same in the same breath. Tara sensed my anxiousness and finished my hair. She gently led me to the bed and helped me up into it.

           Despite my anxiety, she never seemed rushed or hurried.

           “Why are you doing this?” I whispered as she tucked the soft blankets around my neck, “I am an abomination, cursed, and you’re, you’re-”

           Tara placed a gentle finger on my lips, “For now it is sufficient to say I was raised to cherish the life of all on this land regardless of circumstances. The church and temples may have forgotten, maybe even Viroi himself, but I haven’t.”

           I stared at her in shock.

           “Now sleep,” She kissed my forehead and I fell into a gentle slumber.

           I blinked awake and froze. I knew immediately I was in my dreams. I should not be here, Tara promised. I braced for the wails and corpses mocking me for my weakness and reminding me I killed them. Instead, it was just empty. Slowly the burning buildings faded and were replaced by strange stone monuments. I was in a massive cave.

           “Finally, it has taken long enough for you to come here,” A disembodied voice spoke and echoed around the chamber.

           “Who are you? Why are you in my dreams?” I yelled then froze in terror, “Master?” I whimpered.

           Rasping laughter filled the cavern, “I am not the parasite who bound you.”

           I swallowed nervously, “Then who are you?”

           “Something is forgotten,” The voice called out, “A memory of times long past, and civilizations crumbled.”

           I sighed and sat down heavily on the bed that was somehow with me, “That really does not say anything.”

           “Your question is not so easily answered,” Whatever it was rasped back, it seemed to be slightly annoyed, “I am curious as to why we are not dealing with your normal nightmares?”

           “We?” I scoffed, “Last I checked it was just me in those nightmares.”

           “We are sharing the same space; your nightmares end up being my nightmares too. Speaking of, they are exceptionally unpleasant even for my standards,” it said as if it felt sympathy for me.

           “Oh really, are you some kind of nightmare expert?” I asked sarcastically, “Some demon specially created in the depths of hell to torment me?”

           There was an annoyed hiss, “Not a demon. But yes, I am an expert when it comes to things that happen in the dreams.”

           I snorted, when the tower had actual professors, they would sometimes brag about books we should buy, “So is this where you tell me how many books you’ve written on the subject. Tell you what, next time I am in a bookshop I will look you up. What’s your name?”

           “I do not remember you being this…petulant when awake.” There was rattling noise, “No I have not written any books, and my name is Rakkadvi.”

           I stopped, “You accuse me of being petty, yet you did not answer when I asked who you were earlier.”

           “Is a name the entirety of who you are? Is it just something to be called? Is it something you choose? Or does it choose you? Does it truly reflect your essence? Or is it just a glimpse into what lies beneath? My name and identity are similar, but not the same,” The being sounded rhythmic and almost poetic as it spoke.

           “I feel like you are just avoiding the question,” I shot back, “That is a lot of philosophy for one question.”

           Another rattling noise and a sigh that echoed, “You have been called trash, scum, abomination, filth, mage, Victor, Sparrow. Yet none of these are you. They may be feelings, maybe even beliefs, but they are not who you are. Names have all the power, and no power at once.”

           “I am one step away from calling you Professor Rakkadvi,” I rolled my eyes and laid back in the bed, “Fine, so what if I asked what are you instead?”

           “Ahhhh,” It sounded pleased, “Slowly, you learn while you protest. I am the Dreamweaver, the once fate, the artist in the dark, she who waits, the websmith, and so much more.”

           I sat up like a bolt of lightning, “Where are you?” Something did not feel right.

           “In what regard physically? Or in your dreams?” The voice had a tinge of sarcasm to it.

           “Both,” I whispered.

           “Physically I inhabit the same body and mind as you, in this dream, well, just look to your left and go into that cave.” The voice explained.

           I looked to my left and saw a cave hewn in the side of the larger cave of my dreams. It looked ominous. I swallowed nervously. Part of me wanted to lay back down and see if I could go back to sleep on my own and wake up. I needed to talk to Tara about her dreamless sleep.

           “Don’t blame her,” The voice responded to my thoughts, “This is not a dream, more of a meeting of minds. She stopped your nightmares, but we were to meet at some point.”

           “How did you hear my thoughts? Get out of my head!” I yelled into the cave's mouth.

           “As much as I would like to have my own body again, I can’t just leave,” The voice almost sounded like it was pouting, “As to your thoughts they echo around the space we both share.”

        “This is my head!” I yelled, “I did not invite you in!”

           “And I was supposed to be accompanying a willing worshipper who would take me to my old temple so I could rest,” The voice was definitely irritated, “Neither of us is in the situation we want to be in, we can only make the best of it.”

        “Why are you talking to me? Why don’t you just pretend that you don’t exist?” I yelled into the cave.

           “BECAUSE I WAS TRYING TO BE POLITE TO MY UNKNOWING HOST!” The voice boomed from the cave, “I know you don’t want me here, and trust me I would not be here if I had a choice. But the fates I no longer have a say with decided to put us together. All we can do is make the best of it.”

           I took a deep breath, “Ok, ok, ok sorry this is just a little freaky.”

           Then I heard a snort echo out from the cave, “More freaky than a sadistic sociopath using you for their own ends?”

           I shuddered at the mention of my master, “You have a point. May I come in?”

           “It’s your head,” Sarcasm dripped from the words, “But yes, thank you for asking.”

           I took another deep breath and shook my hands. It was then I realized I still had two of them.

           Another sigh echoed from the cave.

           “Yeah, I know, it is because I am in a dream/mind place,” I grumbled.

           I looked at my arm and focused till it faded away. I only had one arm in the real world, I would only have one arm here. That way I would not be disappointed when I woke up. There was more than a little panic in my stomach as the fact I did not have one of my arms started to actually sink in. I shook it off and stepped into the cave. It was humid and slightly warm. Not unpleasantly so, but like a room after a hot bath. I plunged deeper and my bare feet found their way over the surprisingly smooth ground. I realized I could still see despite it being dark and no lights being present. It was a weird dream thing so that must be doing it. Then I came to a large cavern at one end was a raised dais, nothing else was in there.

           “Uh,” I felt a shiver along my spine. She was watching me, “Rakkadvi? I am here. I think.”

           There was a slow shadow that passed over me. I looked up suddenly and saw a giant spider crawling over the ceiling. I had not been particularly afraid of spiders, but anything scaled up to the size of a carriage would be terrifying. “Rakkadvi?” I called out with a shaking voice as the giant spider descended to the dais.

           “It is I,” The voice came directly from the spider, more accurately the woman half which emerged where a normal spider’s head would be. She was most certainly not a human woman though. Her skin seemed to be made up of porcelain white chitinous plates that were segmented where she would bend, grey skin was in the parts that flexed. She had long black hair that did nothing to hide the fact she had eight obsidian eyes. She was also topless and apparently had nipples which caught me off guard. Rakkadvi was a mixture of terror and beauty that was magnetic and repulsive in the same moment, “We really need to work on you thinking quieter.”

        I blushed as I realized my thoughts were not quite polite, “Ah, uh sorry does not quite cut it here, does it?”

           Rakkadvi waved her human hand and one of her spider legs at the same time, “The apology is more than sufficient, plus the fact that you were tempted to kneel for me is more flattering than you know. Also, you may call me Rakka, it will be easier and my full name is a relic of my past.”

        I nodded, “Sounds good Rakka,” I looked at her and decided to just ask rather than letting her overhear, “None of what you told me was that you were a spider centaur.”

           She laughed. I was caught off guard by the beauty of it. It was like a harp being played and a couple of her spider legs waved in mirth. Rakka kept giggling for a few minutes until she got a hold of herself, “Oh my,” she giggled again, “A spider centaur, hmm?” While her smile was composed of needle-like teeth, I found some comfort in it. I knew it was genuine, “Would it be easier for you if I assumed a more human form?”

           I immediately shook my head, “You are fine the way you are; I would not ask you to change like that for me.”

           “I seem to remember you yelling for me to be forever silent,” There was a hint of mirth to her voice letting me know it was not too serious.

           I rubbed the back of my neck, “I am sorry about that, I kind of panicked. I thought my mind was being taken over.”

           She nodded, “I understand, the sanctity of your mind was your refuge. It is why I have avoided direct contact. With the nightmares stopped, I had thought more time had passed since you were freed.”

        “No, it hasn’t even been a day,” I answered. I felt my shoulders slump, “I don’t know if I am safe, what if he can control me again.”

           “I can see if it is possible if you would like.” Rakka offered.

           I hesitated, “How would you know?”

           “It was my magic and rituals the bastard twisted to control you,” She explained while looking sorrowful.

           I froze and remembered how the master had told me how he had come into possession of the artifact, “Wait you’re a member of that cult?”

           Another laugh, though it was a bit sad, “No, that cult sought to worship me, or rather my image. They stumbled across an ancient shrine where they found remnants of my statues and they made up their own little religion for me. Honestly was more than a little unflattering.”

        “I guess they went full blood cult?” I winced a little as I said it. It was a pretty big assumption; I mean Rakka did not seem like the blood-sucking type. Well, aside from the needle teeth.

           “Yes, unfortunately,” She looked to the side and sighed, “I would have stopped them if I could, but I was bound to that damn idol. Betrayal is the bitterest of drinks.”

        I nodded remembering when my master had betrayed me, “It really is.” We stood in companionable silence for a long moment together, both lost in thoughts. I finally spoke again, “So uh, where do we go from here?”

           Rakka shifted on her dais as she looked down at me, “I wanted to see what level of interaction you wanted to have with me.”

        “What do you mean?” I asked looking at her.

           “I live in your head dear, and will be there until you die, that will be when I die too,” She looked sad, “I would offer to leave, but when that woman removed the mark from you, I was left behind, as it was no longer my magic.”

        “Wouldn’t you have died then?” I asked, “And does that mean when I die so do you?”

           She nodded, “Indeed it does, to both of your questions. For the remainder of your mortal life, I will be quietly in this corner of your mind. If you want my counsel you can ask, if you want me to keep you company I will, if you want to never speak to me again, I will just stay here quietly.”

        She was not lying, somehow, I knew it. I did not fully trust her, but I believed this. The energy she radiated was just pure loneliness. I sighed, “I don’t trust you fully, but I think I would like to talk more in the future and see what happens.”

           Rakka bowed her head, “I will be here until you call.”

        The world around us faded to blackness and I returned to deep sleep.

           I woke up to the sight of Tara quietly snoring in the chair next to the bed. Slowly, the memory of my conversation with Rakka filled my mind. “Rakka?” I thought.

           It was an odd sensation, but I felt pressure in my temple as a mind that was not mine filled the space. Rakka’s presence in my head was like a silken pressure around the edges of my brain.

           “Wow, that is weird,” I muttered. I shook my head, but the feeling remained. It was not painful, but not something I could ignore.

           “I agree, this sensation is very different. I feel the sensations that you do at the moment,” Rakka agreed in a soft whisper that seemed to almost originate from inside my brain. It was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

           “It was all real then,” I commented in thought at her, “That is so wild.”

           I could feel her exhale loudly, “It very much was real.” There was a long pause, “It is nice to talk to someone again.”

           “Happy to help,” I responded. I found it was true, “I got to do some stuff, but we will talk more later.”

           I could almost feel her nodding in my head and I found my actual head following along, “I look forward to it.”

           Just like that her presence receded in my head. I knew I was alone in my head, or rather as alone as I could be. I looked back to Tara. For a moment I debated going to find those razors to end my life. I had promised I would not though. There was also the matter of Rakka. Knowing her fate was tied directly to mine made me less impulsive. It was an odd sensation. In a way I was holding her hostage, she had no freedom within my head. That was disconcerting. I shook my head and slipped out of bed. My dress swished around me and I felt a sudden burst of just happiness. I covered Tara’s shoulders with a blanket and began walking her quarters. It was a very spacious area. Her bedroom was larger than some houses in villages I had seen, she had a study with a large selection of books, there was a sitting room, and the bathroom attached to the bedroom. I slowly realized there were no windows and after inspecting the door I realized it would not unlock from the inside. In fact, there was not even a handle on the interior. It was an odd living arrangement. Especially for arguably one of the most powerful people in the land. I stepped back and the more I looked the more I realized this was just a fancy and comfortable cage.

           “I am glad to see you,” Tara said from behind me. She followed my gaze to the door, “No I cannot unlock it. If you would like to walk the gardens without bloodshed, I can send a request.” Her golden eyes seemed sad.

           “You are a prisoner here, just as much as me,” the realization just from my lips as I looked at her in shock.

           Tara gestured for me to follow her. I did and she led me back to her study area where she sat on one of the reclined couches. I sat across from her. One of the most powerful casters I had ever met was imprisoned as I was.

           “When I was so young, I could barely walk, the nature of my eyes was discovered by Viroi’s temple. As the previous Divine Messenger was in failing health, I was taken to various temples to be educated. I was moved constantly so I would not become too partial to individuals as the Messenger I was to be above the rest. I pledged to Viroi’s service at thirteen, at fourteen I was brought here and anointed by the Divine Messenger. Then I was promptly placed in the quarters you see here for my own safety. The Blessed Ones are both my guards and jailers.”

           “The Blessed Ones are those paladins?” I asked referring to the white armored paladins.

           She nodded, “Indeed,” she exhaled, “I have not left this tower in ten years. I have not been allowed to the lower levels in five.”

           I stared at her in shock, “Aren’t you like the head of everything? Like everyone has to listen to you?”

           Tara laughed miserably, “That is what I was taught and I dreaded the responsibility. I just found out when I got here that the Divine Messenger hasn’t been a ruling member of the temple for quite some time. The true power lies with the council of Cardinals, my only purpose is to exist as a figurehead. Occasionally they will have me sign a letter they have written for authenticity’s sake.”

           I just stared at her, “Can’t you just leave?”

           She shook her head, “I tried once, but they have a special brigade of inquisitors who have been magically trained to repress my abilities while the Blessed Ones drag me back.”

           “How did you manage to bring me here?” I asked quietly, “If you have no power.”

           She shrugged, “I gambled they were more worried about a coup than my life. Besides those inquisitors are on the lower levels. Far easier to lock me back in my rooms with an assassin than try to fight me while waiting for them to come up.”

           “Why did you help me?” I asked with growing suspicion, “Without the mark drawing out my magic I can’t cast anything.”

           Tara looked sad, “If I had let you just go they would have killed you, and you don’t deserve that,” She took a deep breath, “And I very much like having someone to talk to that does not have any plans for me. I am a very lonely person.”

           I walked over and took her hand, “Well if you want to talk, I am here.”

           She smiled tearfully at me, “Thank you.” Her face fell, “Unfortunately, I do not know how long we have to talk. Eventually, they will send someone to get you that can cow me.”

           I smiled, “Well a few days of kindness is something more than I have had in a long time.”

           “And this is the most I have spoken to someone in years.” She smiled as she spoke.

           Over the next few days, we talked and shared stories of our lives. We had more in common than I would have thought. At the end of the day, she was like me. Taken from home and pushed into something she did not want. Tara regularly cursed my treatment and cried at her lack of power to fix it. It was that which convinced me she was genuine. The last person who promised to solve my problems had enslaved me and forced me to do terrible things. She was just a lonely soul who wished she had the power she was supposed to in order to right the many wrongs that were committed in her name.

           At one point I told her that it was not her fault. She had countered and asked if the fact I was not in control made me feel any less guilty for the things I had done. We both knew the answer.

           Every night she cast the little enchantment which let me rest, I found myself talking to Rakka more and more through the nights. I learned she used to be a goddess before a follower stripped her power when they had promised to help her recover. The poor creature had been alone in that idol for ages before her shrine was found by murderous zealots looking for an excuse to harm others. She hated the fact her image had been used as an example of a bloodthirsty goddess of chaos. In reality, she enjoyed order and building, Rakka used the webs she spun as an example of how she valued order and symmetry. At the same time, she pointed to little imperfections that cropped up and explained they gave character to her designs. Order was meant to exist in balance with chaos, there was some order in chaos and always chaos in order. Too much in either way was a disaster waiting to happen.

           I also found Tara indulging my feminine desires. It started with the dress, then trim of my hair, some jewelry, paint for my nails, and it just kept going. Until one day I looked in a mirror after she had helped me with ornate makeup. I stared at my reflection, at the woman looking back at me crowned in a gold headband to hold her hair back with matching golden paint on my nails in a beautiful white dress that showed off her collarbones. I slowly realized that the woman I was admiring was me. And I did not hate how I looked. Tears dripped from my eyes. I looked to Tara, “You knew?”

           She nodded, “I could see the essence of the woman inside you, I just did not know if you saw the same.”

           “I am an abomination!” I went to wipe the makeup from my face.

           Tara caught my hand and just sat with me. I did not strain against her. I just quietly cried. She finally spoke again, “You are no abomination and never have been. You are a beautiful woman.” She raised a hand and touched my cheek gently, “All you have to base that off of is a god that does not care for his followers.”

           I looked at her in surprise, “What? But you are chosen of Viroi.”

           Tara looked pained and dropped her hand, “It has been a long time since I prayed to him. He has never saved me.”

           I looked at her in shock, “What do you mean?”

           Her eyes grew wet, “The council of cardinals occasionally like to remind me of just how powerless I am when they come to my quarters. Not much I can do against armed guards when my power has been stripped from me.”

           I felt nauseous at her implications, and I was speechless.

           We were interrupted by a loud bell ringing.

           Tara leaned up and fixed my makeup, “Let’s make sure you look your best my dear.”

           “Call me Vicki,” I said suddenly.

           “As you wish Vicki.” She kissed the back of my hand lightly, “It is time to face the music.”

           We walked hand in hand to the doors as they were opened. Men in red robes with white embroidery entered. They all had an evil look hiding under their placid demeanor. I found a rage I had forgotten building inside me. I remembered what Tara had said and wished I could still fight. Suddenly a little bit of light faded from Tara’s eyes. I spied the black armor behind the cardinals.

           “Your Divinity,” one of the cardinals said in a mocking tone, “I was not aware you had taken on a handmaiden.”

           There was harsh laughter I knew all too well from behind them. I flinched back and started backing away from the door. It was him. How? He should be dead! Panic built in my chest.

           “That’s no handmaiden, it is an abomination. My sparrow.” My master’s voice echoed in my ears.

           The cardinal turned to my master who was sporting a red robe over his black inquisitorial armor, “I thought your assassin was a man.”

           “A man who thinks he was supposed to be a woman,” My master’s cruel laughter echoed, “It appears your figurehead took pity on it.”

           I wanted to retch. The wall was to my back as I stared at him standing with the cardinals. I was supposed to be free.

           Tara moved in front of me, “Your graces.” She managed to sound regal even without her power. I knew she had to be afraid, but I could not move to help. “I see you’ve reached an arrangement with the man who tried to have me killed.”

           “Indeed, turns out Cardinal Arvin has some very useful assets for us. He was welcomed to the council.” The spokesman for the cardinals said, “His initiation ceremony will be later.”

           Tara visibly flinched at those words as the Cardinal smiled wickedly.

           “He just wanted his assassin back.” The Cardinal continued to explain.

           I shook my head, “Please no.”

           My master stepped forward and snapped his fingers, “Come here trash.”

           Tara stepped in front of me, “Cardinal Torine, please do not address her so rudely.” Her voice still sounded regal.

           I saw the sweat on the back of her neck.

           “I am going to dispense with the pleasantries of your divinity.” My master said in a rumbling tone, “That filth behind you belongs to me. You are powerless to stop me, it is powerless to stop me. So let me take possession of my property and I will be gentler with you both. Otherwise, I will make you both suffer. Understand?”

           “She is under my protection,” Tara said stiffly, “I prefer her company.”

           My master laughed, “Oh find you like the taste of trash, do you? I will keep that in mind.” My master’s face became dark and stormy, “Now fucking move.”

           Tara’s defiance did not waver, “The only trash I see here is the scum who are assembled before me.” Her voice rang out and I saw a couple of the cardinals look like they had been struck with lightning.

           My master grabbed her by the throat and lifted her up, “Come here filth, now.”

           I stumbled forward for a few steps before I collapsed to my knees. I mouthed a wordless prayer, “Help me.”

           I was surprised there was an answer, “I can help, but once I do we will become forever inseparable. Do you still want my help?”

           “Yes, just save Tara. Please,” I begged.

           “Who are you talking to Sparrow?” My master looked at me, “Hurry up and get over here before I choke this bitch out.”

           “May I take over? You are in no shape to fight.” Rakka asked.

           “Yes,” I knew she could betray me, but it did not matter as long as I could help Tara as she had saved me.

           The presence I felt before shifted to the front and I suddenly was an observer in my own body. Except there were no commands, it was very obviously another entity entirely. I stood up and stretched in an impossible manner. Bending in a way my body should not.

           “Sparrow?” My master dropped Tara and stepped back, drawing a dagger.

           “We are at a disadvantage; may I alter our body?”  Rakka thought at me.

           “Whatever you have to do to save Tara,” I would save my soul to save that brave woman.

           I felt Rakka nod as if her head was pressed to mine, and we spoke in a distorted voice. Human vocal cords were not meant to mimic her voice, “Unfortunately she is not available to take your call at this time, would you like to leave a message?” The menace in Rakka’s words was like a physical sword.

           Tara looked at us in surprise as my master cautiously stepped forward, “What do you mean it is not in? Sparrow, I swear to Viroi I will do everything I can to make you suffer if you do not get over here.”

           “Her name is not sparrow,” Rakka spoke with our mouth. I felt her rolling our shoulders and pressure building at the stump of my right arm before a sharp agony. We looked down and saw our new arm. It was not a human arm, it was the white chitinous of Rakka’s arm in my dream with six multi-segmented fingers that ended in sharp chitin and two thumbs on both sides of the palm. We flexed the hand and arm testing it, Rakka brought our gaze to my master and I flinched in the head. Rakka only generated cold menace and hate, “It is time for us to have a reckoning.” Our voice sounded threatening. We blinked and when we opened our eyes the world came into a sharp focus I had never had before. I saw auras around those in front of us.

           “What the fuck?!” My master stepped back.

           “When you go playing with ancient cursed magic, you really should be more careful,” we spat and my human teeth clattered to the floor as razor-sharp needles took their place, I felt our mouth shape into a smile. “I hope you have made your peace with your god.” Then we moved. We moved faster than I ever had before even with magic. It was like I was gliding across the floor.

           My master yelped and jumped back as the Blessed Ones stepped in. Before they had been able to injure me. Rakka moved our body in a different way entirely. We contorted into shapes that should be impossible and our chitin fingers found soft necks and ripped out their throats leaving them gurgling. A blast of holy light hit us and slipped off us as if it was water. The Cardinals fell one after the other, their throats and ribs tore open by us. We were no longer human, we were something else, something far more savage, something older. We caught swords on our inhuman arm and lashed out with a sword in our right hand. We had taken it off one of the paladins. The inquisitors fell next, and the last one fell once his head was separated from his body.

           We heard thunder behind us and Tara lashed out with her power and slaughtered three Blessed Ones who were charging us. Then she turned the terrible power on the reinforcements coming up the stairwell led by my master. The three of us tore into them as they reached us. We became Tara’s bodyguard as she wove healing spells that healed our injuries as we struck down any who approached us. Soon my master crossed swords with us.

           “Since my previous project seems to have completely lost his mind, would you like to work for me?” My master said with a sickeningly charming smile.

           I pushed Rakka out of the way and assumed control of our body as I was filled with rage. The world dimmed a little bit and my sword skills which had been enhanced by the master’s knowledge were even faster.

           “Fuck you, you fucking bastard,” I roared in my normal voice, “I am going to fucking gut you for what you made me do.”

           “What the fuck?” My master pulled back.

           I did not hesitate. I lunged in and my sword flashed towards him. He deflected it with a clang. Barely. I moved even faster and heard the human bits of me tearing. I did not care. He pulled back and slowly panic filled his features. He had given up on commanding me as I had stopped listening. All I could hear was the pulse of blood in his veins. Then he tripped on a body. I was inside his guard.

           “Die you fucker!” I screamed and my chitin arm plunged into his chest. I found his heart and closed my fist gently around it, “Know you died at the hands of your own creation.” I ripped out and held his heart overhead and crushed it in a gory mess. He fell lifelessly backward. The remaining guards and paladins fled down the stairs once their sole bastion died. This left only me and Tara panting in the now blood-soaked sitting room. My bare feet left prints as I walked toward her.

           “Vicki?” She asked softly and stepped towards me, her own feet leaving footprints of blood.

           “Yes,” I looked at my very inhuman arm, “Well kinda, it’s complicated.”

           “Is it you right now?” Tara asked softly without a trace of fear on her face.

           I nodded, “Mostly, Rakka is hanging around to help if I need it.”

Tara just jumped up and kissed me on the lips very gently, “Thank you, Vicki, you saved my life.”

I blushed and pulled back, “Ah I was too scared, it was Rakka mostly.”

Suddenly my mouth moved of my own accord, “Do not let her fool you, she sacrificed a sizable amount of her humanity to aid you. That was her only request.” Rakka spoke with that distorted voice.

“Rakka?” Tara asked as she seemed to squint at us.

We shifted under her gaze, “Yes and Vicki is here too. I just wanted to be sure you knew what she gave up for you.”

“Rakka!” I yelped.

“She deserved to know, and I will not let you act like you are anything less,” Rakka shot back out loud and in my head.

“Well thank you Rakka for helping us,” She touched our cheek gently, “Gods Vicki, I wish you could see how beautiful you look.” Tara dropped her hand and sighed as she looked to the stairs, “How many do you think we can take before they overwhelm us?”

I shrugged, “Enough to make them pay for what they did to us.”

Rakka spoke up, “We can use magic to escape.”

“You can do magic Rakka?” I asked in surprise.

“No, but you can,” I was starting to find comfort in the odd rhythm her voice took when it spoke.

I snorted, “That was the mark and you know it.”

“But the magic was inside you all along,” Tara interjected.

“I don’t know how to use it though,” It was dragged out of me.

“Try singing and I will join you,” Rakka suggested.

“Sing for magic?” I asked incredulously.

“It was always your greatest passion Vicki, I can see it in your memories. Channel everything you feel into it and I will craft it into a spell with my knowledge,” I could feel her wrapping me in a hug inside my brain, “We have to try.”

I nodded, “Ok Rakka.” I took a deep breath and coughed. My body felt so different and it hurt. This kind of transformation had not been gentle and my body and soul ached. I closed my eyes and let my feelings wash over me. I had always sung from my heart, and I would not change that for anything.

Misery. The torment and cruelty I had been subjected to.

Regret. All of the lives I had ended under the control of a power-crazed monster.

Sadness. Longing for a life I never had.

Happiness. The memory of the woman in the mirror and how I was her.

Gratitude. The kindness Tara had shown me.

Anger. Fury at the injustices Tara and I had to endure at the hands of those in power.

Hope. Maybe this will work. Maybe we could be free.

Grief. The death of Tiphani and the knowledge she probably suffered.

Desire. The want to be free, to make amends, to see what the outside world was like.

My voice rose in a ballad I had only heard once. A Queen riding on a dragon to save the innocent. Knights following her into battle and slay the wicked. I felt my heart thudding in my chest and power rising in me.

Rakka’s voice joined mine through a means I did not quite understand. She followed the words from my song adding harmony and depth that echoed beyond the mortal world. She took the power I was calling on and began to weave it around us. Cocoons of threads of magic surrounded us. Tara took my hand as I reached the crescendo of the song. A terrifying battle between the queen and an evil god. Something that shook the world. The cocoons closed over us and I felt space bend as my words echoed into empty air. The soldiers and guards who stormed the sitting room glimpsed us as we were whisked away into a multicolored explosion.

The bright colors faded and I blinked to clear my vision of the bright spots. I looked over and saw Tara doing the same. I slumped to my knees and took a moment to breathe. I saw Tara looking around wildly.

“Uh, Vicki,” Tara asked with a hint of worry.

“Yeah?” I panted trying to catch my breath. I felt like I had run all the way up the stairs in the citadel. My bones and chest ached. I felt Rakka trying to stay awake in my head. Apparently, we both felt the exhaustion.

“Where the hell are we?” Tara asked.

I sat up as I wheezed and tried to catch my breath, I looked around and saw the Deep Forest. We were on a resting point, it was where tree barges would stop to camp. It could be described as a clearing with trees surrounding it. It almost looked like a normal forest. I recognized the smell though. Something I had smelled every time I was on the balcony of the mage’s tower.

I swallowed nervously, “The Deep Forest.” I answered.

Tara looked at me in shock, “You mean the forest which is practically an ocean with untold horrors in it? The one that in order to launch an expedition into you need an army to go more than a short distance into?”

I nodded, “Yep.” I coughed and a small amount of blood was on my hand as I wiped my mouth. That could not be good.

Rakka took control of our voice for a moment, “I went for far away and safe as I guided the spell. It is far away; I do not know of safe.”

Tara looked around for a moment and shrugged, “It is better than the citadel at least.” She knelt down in front of me and looked at me in concern.

“I am fine,” I tried to look ok.

“Bullshit,” Rakka coughed, “Our body feels like it is about to fall apart.”

Tara giggled, “Let me fix you up.” She concentrated for a moment and golden light washed over me. I felt things inside me reconnect and not hurt so damn bad. Then the light faded and Tara stared at her hands in shock.

The golden light which had surrounded her almost the entire time I had known her had disappeared. “Tara are you ok?” I asked as I awkwardly scooted next to her.

She nodded and swallowed. Hysterical laughter bubbled up out of her after a moment.

“Tara?” It was both of us speaking as we reached for her.

She stood up and looked to the sky and screamed in rage, “FUCK YOU VIROI!!” She looked back down and her golden eyes blazed, “He won’t take his power from the bastards who rape and kill, but the moment you stand up to his little fucking soldiers he strips you of it!!” Her laughter too on a bitter tone, “So, the innocent are punished for standing up to injustice? Everything I was taught was a lie, I knew it was a lie as soon as they ‘initiated’ me into their fucked little council by using me. I had hoped that maybe there was some justice out there.” She spat in the grass, “But Viroi only cares for power, not justice.”

Rakka spoke with our voice, “Such is not uncommon, if it is any consolation not all gods are that way.”

“Oh really?” Tara snapped, then she took a deep breath. “Sorry Rakka, I am just-” Her voice trailed off.

“Upset, hurt, betrayed, afraid,” Rakka filled in, “But you are not alone.”

“You have us,” I spoke with my voice, “No matter what we got your back.”

Tara looked at us with a very fond expression, “I think I could fall in love with you two.”

“What?!” We said at once, Rakka’s shock mixed with mine.

Tara swatted us on the head, “Lay back and let me take a look at you.”

We obeyed, but still spoke up, “Hey you can’t just acknowledge that.”

“I can and I will,” She hummed and began examining us, “Tomorrow we can try and set off to find something that will help us get somewhere else.”

Rakka spoke with our voice, “This used to be a kingdom, I used to have a temple in the main city, we may find items which can help us there. It will be deep in the forest though.”

“Better to die trying to help ourselves than like a caged bird,” I commented.

Tara looked down at us, “We will never be caged again my dears.” Her eyes burned like twin suns, “Never again.”

Rakka and I spoke together, “Never again.”

Tara finished looking over us and bound up our external wounds. Then she laid down beside us. We wrapped our arm around her as her head lay on our chest.

“You know this arm is a lot more comfortable than it looks,” Tara commented.

I realized she had snuggled up to our more inhuman side. We felt warmth blossom in our chest at her words.

Rakka then chose to speak, “Wait until you find out what these fingers can do.” Her tone was somehow sultry despite the odd voice we shared.

I felt my cheeks color, “RAKKA!” I yelped.

Tara giggled in our arm, “Maybe one day I’ll let the two of you show me.”

Rakka literally was humming in pleasure in my head which leaked out through our voice. Despite the fact we only had one another, no blankets or shelter, the three of us drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

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