24, enjoy!

Chapter 24: Interrogation

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“I didn’t see who the attacker was,” the soldier began nervously, his eyes flitting around the table where his audience was seated. “I heard the sounds of battle from outside the house, but by the time I got to her, the attacker was gone. All I found was my unconscious partner and the scene of a fight. O-oh! I found this as well!” he continued, placing the small bundle upon his back onto the table before him. Lukas, who was the closest to the fidgety soldier, unwrapped the bundle, revealing the two separate pieces of Kha’na’s weapon.

“I believe this is the Mouth’s weapon, is it not?” Stefan noted, and Draygor nodded in affirmation. An image of Shaitan was engraved near the hilt of the weapon, marking it as a weapon from the Cult’s armouries.

“There are no nicks or marks on the blade…” Stefan observed further, reaching across the table to pick up the blade. “The break seems suspiciously clean too… either this dagger was sliced through with another weapon of superior quality, or some extreme force caused it to snap. To be honest, I don’t think either of them are possible. This is pretty good quality steel,” he concluded reluctantly as he studied the weapon further, the idea of giving due credit to the Cult being outlandish for him. He grasped both ends of the broken blade, attempting to bend it with all his strength, but the steel merely shook with his effort.

“That brings us to another question,” Stefan said as he set the blade down. “Why were you separated from your partner? I believe I gave all of you strict orders to stick in your pairs,” he addressed the soldier, giving him a stern glare.

“I… I…” the soldier stammered. “I… was afraid, and couldn’t control my nerves… she went in without me…” he answered, hanging his head in shame. He didn’t bring up Kha’na’s assault on him. He had goaded her on first, and most of the blame lied on him for their breakdown in co-operation. Stefan glared furiously at his subordinate, and the man shrunk back. The Royal Advisor was known to be a bit of a tyrant when he’d been a general in the army, to great effect.

“Everyone’s afraid during their first fight, Royal Advisor,” Draygor spoke up in the soldier’s defense before Stefan could reprimand him. He recalled the first time he fought for his people, centuries ago, when he hadn’t yet realised his immortality and the strong grip of the fear of death still held him. “Some more than others. From what I see, if he’d went in with Kha’na, we’d have two casualties instead of just one person out of commission temporarily.”

The soldier gave Draygor a look of gratitude. He saw Draygor as a mere kid, but he knew the child held a lot of clout, being able to speak freely in the company of the few most important people in the country. Draygor’s intervention didn’t do much to sway Stefan’s opinion, however.

“Indeed, but it is through fighting that fear that we become strong,” the older man grunted in dissatisfaction. “Your fear of battle is understandable, but inexcusable for one in the military. I’d wager that the little lady here would have had a clearer head than you if she had been in your position,” Stefan pointed to Dhi’na, who had been listening quietly to everything. She seemed to understand exactly what was going on, and if she was curious or surprised, she didn’t show it.

“For now, you will aid the healers with your partner’s recovery, soldier. I will speak to your superiors and ensure that you, and the rest of those involved in our operation are… properly trained. Dismissed,” Stefan ordered. The Queen nodded in agreement, though she seemed a little uncomfortable at the subject of Stefan’s training. Clearly, she’d witnessed it first hand before.

Stefan’s mention of proper training sent shivers down the soldier’s spine as well. “Y-yes, sir. B-by your leave, y-your majesty,” he gave a weak nod in acknowledgement, turning to perform his duties. Both Stefan and Lukas were clearly unimpressed with the soldier’s powerless response, having held key positions in their respective divisions of the military before.

“You’ll have to fix that one, Stefan,” Lukas shook his head disapprovingly as he watched the soldier stumble away. “We cannot afford to have weak links amongst our frontlines in our fight against the Abyss,” he added grimly before his grandson spoke up again.

“Anyway, I believe I know the answer to how Kha’na’s blade was broken. I believe that your observation was right, Royal Advisor. A strong, overwhelming force was the cause. To be precise, I think that Kha’na’s attacker was the one that broke her dagger,” Draygor explained, pulling their discussion back to their original topic. “A short while back, Kha’na and I rescued a little girl from being kidnapped. She was Goddard Jarne’s adoptive granddaughter, actually.”

The ex-blacksmith’s reputation preceded him, as Stefan’s eyes lit up at the mention of his name. His hands moved to touch the handle of the sword always at his waist, and Draygor presumed that Stefan’s weapon was one that Goddard had made. They were similar in age, and Draygor wondered if the two old men knew each other personally. It wouldn’t be strange, considering that both men would have been in their prime at the same period in time.

“At the time, I gave chase to the kidnapper – a male Gar’nash – while Kha’na escorted the girl home. The man was fast, unnaturally so. Extremely strong too; he managed to make his escape by smashing right through a solid stone wall without even stopping. To make things worse, he was immune to my commands as well,” Draygor said, summarising the event.

Lukas and Stefan shared looks of alarm as they took in Draygor’s story. “You were unable to take control of the man?” Stefan asked, trying to confirm what he had heard. They’d both witnessed a display of Draygor’s ability to manipulate others, and if the enemy was immune to it, it meant that their fighting potential was severely diminished. Draygor affirmed his statement with a solemn nod.

“When I tried, my mind was assaulted in retaliation. By the Abyss, I presume. It incapacitated me long enough for the man to make his escape,” he explained further. “There weren’t any distinctive details about the man, other than his unnatural physical abilities, though I didn’t get close enough to actually get a good look. If we are unable to find a way to tell them apart, they might be able to infiltrate our ranks. Hopefully Kha’na will have some good news when she comes to,” Draygor said, noting their unfavourable situation.

“I believe we can help with that,” the Queen pointed out. “Please fill him in, Stefan.”

“Of course, your majesty,” her aide acknowledged. “We’ve retained a few suspected individuals related to the Abyss, and they’ve all had one thing in common. Their eyes were dull, and they seemed to get blacker by the day. Unfortunately, all but one of them died mysteriously, and we’ve linked the cause of death to total organ failure, but we’ve been unable to come up with a reason for it happening.”

“The one prisoner we have remaining, however, doesn’t seem to have the improbable strength that you speak of, or he’d definitely have escaped his restrains by now,” Stefan observed.

“Ah yes, the High Priestess told me about the individuals in the dungeons. All but one of them died unexplainably? That doesn’t sound like the man I encountered… I don’t suppose your majesty could allow me to speak with the prisoner?” Draygor asked, pondering the possibilities. He’d been meaning to find some way to talk to the prisoners when Lah’ra had brought it up, but he’d forgotten until now.

“I’m sure that will be no problem,” the young Queen gave a brief nod in approval. “With some luck, he’ll be susceptible to your commands, and we might glean some information out of him,” she muttered, taking the words out of Draygor’s mouth.

“Let us adjourn our discussion for now. Stefan, could you please escort Draygor to the dungeons? By Mhi’ra’s grace, let us hope something good come will out of it. Lukas and… Dhi’na, was it? Some snacks should be on the way, I hope you’ll join me,” the Queen smiled as Stefan rose to bring Draygor to the royal dungeons.

“Lukas?” Dhi’na piped up as her friend and the Royal Advisor exited the room, speaking for the first time since the start of their meeting.

“Yes, Dhi’na?”

“Is Draygor the White Death?”

Lukas’ jaw dropped as he stared in shock at the little girl. Even the Queen was caught unexpected by the sudden question. Both her majesty and her ex-general shared the same thoughts. “She managed to figure it out so quickly? Just from what we’ve been talking about?” they wondered incredulously.

The looks on their faces told Dhi’na that she’d been right on the money. “Hmm, I thought so,” she murmured, lost in thought as she looked away from her stunned elders.

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The royal dungeons were not a nice place. There were two floors – both held criminals or individuals that posed a threat to national security. The first floor held those that were not as much a threat, but the second was where the most dangerous were.

The second floor was pitch black, as it was underground with no source of natural light. There were no sources of artificial light either, except when the guards checked up on the prisoners, holding torches for vision. The forced darkness was a form of torture, where the prolonged lack of sight preyed on the sanity of the cellmates. The entrance to the second floor was always under guard, as well as kept tightly under lock and key. There were always two guards on duty during every shift, armed to the teeth.

“N-not the light!” a hoarse voice croaked from a nearby cell as Draygor and Stefan entered the second floor of the dungeons, piercing the darkness of their surroundings. Draygor peered through the bars of the cell and found an aged woman curled on the cold stone floor, in the corner of her small cell. She looked ancient, but it was impossible to tell her age in the darkness. She was extremely skinny and malnourished, and she clawed at her eyes as the sudden light blinded her.

“What did she do?” he asked, turning away from the cell.

“Treason,” Stefan said. He barely paused in his steps, sparing none of the imprisoned any glances. “Don’t bother with any of these scum,” the Royal Advisor added.

“They’ve been tried and investigated multiple times, without a shred of evidence in their favour. They will spend the rest of their lives rotting down here, though some decide to end them early. Those we don’t want to die are restrained, however, so they cannot escape their suffering.”

Draygor shrugged, his curiosity sated. There wasn’t much point in mulling over the prisoner’s fates if they had been found guilty for their crimes. They continued through the maze like corridors, their footsteps echoing out to join the choir of shrieks and moans as the light of their torches blinded the prisoners.

“We’re here,” Stefan announced as they arrived at a thick steel door at the end of one of the corridors. The door clanged as he unlocked it, and it screeched on rusty hinges as he swung it open.

They entered a room, and Stefan took both their torches, fixing them to the wall on small attachments. There were two chairs in the cell, and the man they came to speak to was seated in one of them. The man’s chair was bolted to the stone floor, and he was fully bound in a straight-jacket with shackles on his neck and feet, connected to the wall behind him. They were necessary, for the man had tried to harm himself many times in manic hysteria.

Stefan moved to stand in corner of the cell, his arms crossed. “Go ahead. Do what we came to do.”

The man stared as Draygor took a seat, his eyes a dull grey.

“Tell me about the Abyss,” Draygor commanded, the air growing heavy with mana as he returned the man’s unnerving stare. The man simply grinned in response, revealing a mouth full of broken, rotten teeth, seemingly unaffected by Draygor’s power.

Then, the man’s eyes began to fill with darkness, turning a full black, and time seemed to stop as the twin black pools drew Draygor in.

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“I’ve been expecting you,” a loud, penetrating voice thundered.

Draygor shook himself from the trance that the man’s eyes had put him under, and found himself standing in, well, nowhere. He seemed to be in a black void, to describe it plainly, and there was nothing around him that he could see.

Suddenly, a figure materialised before him. It took the form of a remarkably handsome male Ely, with thick flowing locks of luscious black hair, and eyes that personified darkness. The figure was nude, and Draygor was unable to avert his eyes from the figure’s magnificence.

“I apologise for not being well-prepared,” the male Ely spoke again, a little more softly this time. “I haven’t really had time to decorate my own abode, being busy and all,” he explained with a smile.

His voice shook Draygor from his reverie. “Are you the Abyss?” he asked.

“Did you really forget who I am, after all we’ve been through? Though to answer your question, I suppose that’s what I’m known as these days… yes, I am the one named Abyss,” the Abyss sighed, a sad look upon his features.

“I don’t think we’ve met in person before,” Draygor said sceptically, “though I suppose it is possible. There are many things I don’t recall, especially how I came to be. Would you happen to know anything about that?” he asked hopefully. The Abyss had been nice and polite since Draygor’s arrival, and Draygor saw no harm in engaging in some small talk. He could tell his host was extremely powerful and he didn’t want to anger the Abyss by moving straight to the serious matters.

“Hmmm,” the Abyss raised a hand to his chin in thought. “Let’s put it this way: I was there when you came to be, but I was… occupied and not present when you came to be… like this,” the Abyss splayed out his hand, referring to Draygor’s current form.

“Though, I do know what happened that led to it. Perhaps I’ll tell you if we get the chance to speak again in the future. I must say, it is extremely hilarious seeing you in the body of a child’s,” the Abyss laughed as he observed Draygor’s comparably tiny body.

Draygor frowned at the Abyss’ vague answer. “I don’t suppose you could tell me why you’re doing all this then? Or why I’m unable to exert control over your servants? Or perhaps even why some are not as strong as the one I encountered when you first spoke to me?” he queried again, a little annoyed by the Abyss’ seemingly flamboyant and carefree nature.

“Ah, when I first spoke to you. I do apologise for my outburst then, it was uncalled for. What you have is not magick, my dear Draygor. That’s the name you go by now, right?” the Abyss giggled at Draygor’s name.

“What you are able to do is something entirely different. It uses mana, but it isn’t magick. Your commands are formed by sheer force of will, and lesser beings have no way to stop you from doing that. That is why it will not work on those who work for me, because I am stronger than you,” he grinned triumphantly. “The reason for the difference in my servants is the same. Some are strong because I will them to be strong, and some are not, because I have other uses for them.”

“As for my intentions… I think I made it pretty obvious that I plan to take over the universe. As for why… well, I’ll tell you if you’ll aid me in my cause. In fact, if you help me, I will tell you everything. I know everything about you, Draygor, and I’m sure you’d love to remember that which you’ve lost. So how about it? Join me, and I’ll tell you the whole truth,” the Abyss suggested, his arms open in welcome.

For a moment, Draygor was tempted to accept. He desired to know who he was, and what the reason for his existence was throughout his lives, and the Abyss seemed to have the answers. But no matter how much he wanted to go along with the Abyss’ proposal, he could not. The word “protect” resounded over and over again in his consciousness, and he clutched his head in pain.

“It seems that’s a no, then,” the Abyss muttered in disappointment. “I guess it’s only natural, you always did have opposing ideals. What a shame…”

“Unfortunately, you don’t seem well enough to continue this conversation, and I have better things to do, so I’m afraid this is it for now. Don’t worry, we will meet again,” the Abyss added with a teeth-baring smile, and it all faded to black for Draygor.