He was being dragged through the streets, bag on his head. Whether it was to confuse him or to protect his identity from leaking to his supposed criminal companions, he didn’t know. The watchmen responsible for the dragging were rough with him to the point of nearly dislocating his shoulders. Both of them! Then again, they thought that Kez was behind a plot to assassinate their precious king. Perhaps he could understand their situation. The King of Aldunis was generally respected throughout the country. It’s funny how slightly lower taxes can make everyone forget about the rape of a barmaid from a backwater province.

After what felt like a few spirals and at least a hundred bumps, he was thrown into the cold floor. The bag slipped off his head and cold, stone walls appeared before him. The loud clank of metal made him turn around. On the other side of the bars, the two watchmen were locking his cell. He yelled at them to explain what was going on but was answered only with stares of disgust.

He slumped on the bench, supported by chains connected to the wall. He didn’t even try to break free from his captors. His body was still too sore from flowing electricity through it a day before. Saving energy for eventual escape was a far more fruitful endeavor in his mind.

He started to slowly make sense of his current situation. He was accused of plotting to assassinate the king and the watchmen were looking specifically for the man who had the statue stolen from the palace. They had to know that he was a local mercenary. Their jobs collided from time to time, after all. That means that men apprehending him were led to believe that he was someone else. Or maybe he had a double life, mercenary by day and criminal mastermind by night. That would mean those thieves, who he took the statue away from, were his supposed underlings. They must have got the connection from them.

The burglars must have lied about him to drag him down with them. Probably told the watchmen a story of how he ended their partnership, beat them up, and run away with the statue to turn it, making himself look like the one who retrieved it from the greedy hands of gutter-licking scum bags. His dream made more sense to him now, although he already suspected that he dreamt about one of the thieves. These “visions” would come to him from time to time, ever since his accident. He couldn’t explain it. They just happened and couldn’t be controlled or predicted.

The lie made sense, except the last part wasn’t a lie. Which was even worse for him. The best lies always have a part of the truth in them. This would only make it harder for him to disprove it. If he would even get the chance to do so.

“Hey!” called Keziah. “I didn’t do it! Surely you can’t believe the words of some petty thieves?!”

“Shut it! The Captain took care of your underlings and he will soon take care of you!” called the voice from the room on the other side of the long corridor of cells.

The Captain took care of my underlings? thought Kez. Well, that did line up somewhat with what he deduced. So, this “Captain” must have discovered the beaten-up rogues and interrogated them. This must have happened not so long after Kez left that room, given that the watchmen were looking for a specific culprit the very next morning. The thieves wouldn’t have time to think up the story of him being their leader. Also, the watchmen are truly convinced that he is the assassination plotter, which means that this “Captain” interrogated the thieves before the watchmen arrived, then lied to them about what happened. But why would he do that? Keziah didn’t have grudges with any captains. Or military men. Well, there are a couple of people in positions of power who could bear ill will towards him, think him dead.

All he could do now was to wait for him to come and “take care of him” now. He still was missing some details, but a clear enough picture of what happened hung now in front of him.

*****

The next ten hours he spent in his cell were marked by a colorless view. It wasn’t the first time Kez has been locked up in a dark cell, but each time felt exactly the same. Soulless, featureless, and lifeless. He could never get used to it. It was one of those things that he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Well, he could maybe make one exception.

The worst part wasn’t the limited freedom of movement and actions. It was isolation. The line between being alone and feeling alone was a thin one and practices like these exploited how you perceived solitude. The best way to handle prolonged isolation is to trick yourself into thinking that you are still on the being alone part of the spectrum and completely reject the notion of feeling alone. Sometimes it would mess up your mind upon release from seclusion. Talking to yourself, trust issues, every other human would easily startle you. You had to be strong enough to separate the real world from isolation, otherwise it would change you.

Thankfully, it wouldn’t be longer than ten hours for Kez this time. The Captain arrived. He could discern that from the loud greetings down the hall.

“Captain, sir!” saluted the watchmen on the other side of the building.

“Show me where he is.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Kez waited patiently on his bench. He hoped to gain an edge over his future interrogator by threatening to expose his lie. He would try to learn his motives first, though. Kez needed to know why this had happened to him. Approaching steps of hard-leather, military boots signalized the beginning of his questioning. The man, now in front of his cell, wore a military uniform jacket adorned with golden threads and white buttons. The uniform was red and blue, the colors of Aldunis. The insignia on the right side of his chest is a square-eared shield with a rounded base on top of a shining sun.

“Captain of the Royal Guard,” whistled Kez. “I wish I could say that I’m honored to meet you, but alas, I’ve never been too fond of liars.”

“Take him to the interrogation room and leave us,” the Captain ordered coldly, ignoring Kez completely.

“Straight to business, huh? Alright then,” said Kez, before being re-dragged into the isolated room, followed by the Captain, who closed the doors behind them. Keziah noticed that this room was completely insulated upon closing the doors. No sound would get out or get in.

“I’m going to offer you a way out of this, which you will take,” said the Captain, taking Kez aback.

“What, you changed your mind about making me some gang leader?”

“Smart, that’s good. It will help you understand that you have no options but to follow my orders.”

“Yeah? And what orders would be so important for you to make this little charade? Hiding it from the watchmen, no less.” Kez sat down, back to the wall facing his potential boss.

The Captain, without ever changing his posture, said, “It’s simple, even for a low-rank adventurer like you.” He stared into Kez’s eyes. “You are going to burn a carriage. You will be given a location and time on which it will reach that location.”

“What’s it carrying?” asked Kez, feeling more and more like his options were truly limited this time.

“Not your concern. Just burn it and you will be pardoned.”

“That easy, huh?” snickered Kez. “So what, you release me now, and I obediently follow this order to a tee?”

“Yes.”

“You are too trusting for someone who is supposed to protect the king, don’t you think?”

“It isn’t the issue of trust. I will be able to see if you will complete my order.”

Be able to see? thought Kez. Some missing pieces fell into place then.

“Light Manipulator,” he said while standing up. "That's how you send the signal to the watchmen to come as soon as possible to make it look like they were truly beaten by you..."

“If you know this much, then you should also know that I was not lying about ensuring that you complete the job," he said with a tone of superiority. "You can take your belongings from the watchmen.” He turned to walk out of the room. “You are free to go.”