Lost

Darkness. That was everything that was, will be, and is here. Straining to remember what had happened, Lost slowly found the memory of being captured. And Fen running. He smiled at that, at least he had saved her- again.

He was surrounded by an endless void of swirling shadows that looked like smoke. A place void of light, void of hope.

He had been here before, hadn’t he?

“Hello,” said a voice that sounded like Lost’s but wasn't. A slippery, snake-like tone that wasn't how Lost talked was mixed in with clicking.

Turning around, Lost’s eyes settled on a shadow. A shadow that looked like it wore ragged robes made of swirling smoke. It had a cowl pulled up, showing no face, its sleeves hung past its hands, hiding those too.

That's when it clicked, Lost knew where he was. “I thought I had gotten rid of you,” He said coldly.

The wraith made a clicking sound, and shifted a foot to the left, “You know you can never get rid of me.”

Lost sighed, sitting down criss cross. “But I can still hope.”

“Hope is a foolish thing,” The wraith said in Lost’s voice that wasn't his, shifting a foot to the right, stirring up a gray mist cloud.

“Heh,” Lost shifted a little, keeping an eye on the wraith. “Well, you can bet I will take that to heart.” He said sarcastically.

It made more clicking noises, “You should, you’d be better off without it.”

Lost ignored that, “Why am I here?”

“You got captured,” The wraith commented bluntly.

“I did. I was weak.”

More clicking noises, “You used magic when this body and your mind was still recovering. If you try to absorb magic, you will only hurt this body.”

Lost shrugged, he thought he could use it when the guards attacked, but he was proven wrong. Alas, he didn't have any healing spells, only one for a headache. Or even a recovery spell, he wasn't good at healing magic. He was only meant to destroy, not heal. To destroy, decimate, annihilate, that was just his magic.

“Why am I here?” Lost asked again, knowing that this was not going to go well.

“You know why,” The wraith said with some clicks.

“No, I don't.”

A few clicks, then it spoke, “Your body will be mine in time. You know it, it’s just a matter of time-and place.”

Lost snorted, just like old times, “Ya, you are right,” Lost admitted. “But I will die before you ever get the chance.”

Clicking, “We will see…”

The world was sucked up in a rush of screaming wind.

Lost woke up, his mind fuzzy and hurting. His vision was blurry, and he strained his mind to remember something that he couldn't. A… conversation? Maybe, he couldn’t remember. Just bit’s and a few words. The Wraith.

His shoulders, arms and wrists hurt. Looking up, Lost saw that he was chained to a wall. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.

He could see bars, and two other stone walls holding him in where he was, a square cell. The dripping of water could be heard echoing off from somewhere. A dank and moldy smell filled his nose and mouth.

Smirking, Lost licked his chapped lips. ‘It looks like I’m in the dungeon, again.’

Tess

“Grrhh!”

Tess gnashed her teeth together in frustration. ‘Is there nothing on why the Dark Swordsman locked away magic?’

She had been at this for a day now, taking frequent breaks. Sifting through the archives for anything on why the Dark Swordsman locked away the magic, or how. But there was nothing, even the history books didn't reach this far back, but it almost seemed like someone wiped away all information on the Dark Swordsman.

If it was true, then what else in their history could be a lie? She shivered at that thought. Was everything a lie? No, there had to be a good reason that the Dark Swordsman is stated as evil. And why there was so little information on him.

Closing another scroll, she put it back in its cubby. She got up with a sigh, tired from looking through millions of records, of their history and looking for anything on the Dark Swordsman.

There had to be something more! Something! When that red headscarf wearing boy had appeared and told her he was the Dark Swordsman, she had believed him. He had given a reason, but was it a lie or the truth? And why would it not be in the archives? Where everything about the elf’s history and important events was stored!

Maybe there was some other place to learn about him? But she highly doubted it, in fact, she might even be blamed for blasphemy if people found out she was trying to learn more about the ‘Dark God’. Though her being a royal would stop them from doing anything to her, that didn't mean her parents wouldn't punish her.

Tess carved a path of frustration through the halls, servants and maids staying away for fear of being the target of her anger.

There were tales about the Dark God. But even those were vague and no one really dared to speak them. They were only used to scare mischievous kids into obedience.

Like how he was always watching in the shadows to snatch up in obedient children and eat their souls. How he could kill a hundred men in the blink of an eye. How he was a demon of shadows. How he could control other’s minds with a flick of his will. But these were only bedtime stories, nothing solid to go on.

Storming into her room, Tess threw herself onto her silk sheet covered bed, screaming into a pillow out of frustration. Desperation. She needed to know whether their history was a lie.

The magic knowledge he had provided her with had sent her leaps and bonds forth, and there was still more to follow. They were like directions inside her head, burning bright.

So far she could now summon strong gusts of wind and shift large rocks around. One of the interesting things about earth magic was that you couldn't just make it magically float. It could be pushed, molded and pulled. It was like playing with clay, but Tess had never been an artistic person.

But with a little help of wind magic, she could make rocks float. Though she had yet to figure out how to move it once it was floating. Wind wasn't like earth, less simple and more complex. Though earth was easy to figure out, it was hard to do, like trying to walk through a muddy bog while someone is constantly pulling you back.

Air felt slippery, light. She just couldn't quite figure out how to shape or move it, like her hands kept slipping through it. While earth was heavy, solid. It was easy to feel, but air just seemed to slip away every time she was near to figuring it out. It was like both were opposites of each other.

If only, she dare to even think it, that the boy who claimed himself the Dark Swordsman, could teach her more. For the first time, she was actually having fun doing something. It wasn't for anyone else, wasn't for the good of the country or to even make her parents proud of her, it was something for herself.

There was a heavy knocking on the door, disrupting Tess from her thoughts. “Come in,” she said, her frustration lessening, but still boiling.

The door opened to reveal the captain of the royal guard. He looked nervous, but his posture was still proud. “Milady, I have a message from the city guard. They would like you to know that your assailant has been caught and will be executed tomorrow.”

She sat there, on the edge of her bed. Her mind didn't comprehend what he had just said. Then it hit, but she kept her expression neutral, showing no emotion.

They had caught the Dark Swordsman? How was that even possible, if, like she saw and had heard, couldn't he have easily combated the entire city guard force? He hadn’t seemed like he would do such a thing, but people were more than they appeared. You couldn’t know, Tess had learned this lesson when she realized her idolized father may be a man of evil.

She needed to know, if it was really the ‘Dark God’. Standing up, she made her decision. “I would like to see my attacker, to confirm his identity. I would request you leave your post to take me there, now.”

The captain hesitated for a second, but then nodded, knowing he couldn't go against the wishes of a Royal. “Yes, Milady.”

******

The heavy iron door closed shut with a creak and resounding BANG!

Tess took a deep breath. She had come with the captain to the City Guard Headquarters. Were they kept the criminals and other offenders, locking them up in their ‘dungeon’. It was underground, with only one entrance and exit. The heavy metal door that had at least two guards at it every hour.

She shifted the glowing lantern to her right hand, holding it out in front of her. This place was dark, with barely enough ambient light to see. Even then, it was mostly just outlines.

Jeers came from the cells on both sides of the path, while others were silent, their captives hiding in the corners. The Royal Guard Captain had insisted on coming down here with her, but Tess politely refused. When he had pushed farther she had outright said no.

Now she was starting to regret that decision. But she persevered on, through the musty hallways and down countless flights of stairs.

Soon the cells had become quiet, their captives beaten to much to even look in the direction of the pinprick of light that was Tess’ lantern.

She eventually made it to the near bottom of the dungeon. A place ancient and quiet, and darkness that could drive one insane if they stayed in it too long. The mold grew in the cracks of the walls, the bars rusted but still strong. There the worst prisoners were kept. Murders, killers, anarchists and beasters. They all had been down here a long time, brought food only once and week, and water every three days. They were beaten, worn and weak so much so, they didn't even bother to fight back.

It was horrible, and the smell was even worse. The stench of waste, unwashed bodies and other unrecognisable smells were clouds sticking to the roof. Despair, fear and hunger hung thickly in the air, clinging to the crumbling cobbles.

If you weren't already insane, you would be staying here only a few hours.

Tess resisted the urge to look into the cells, at the long and starved faces of the prisoners. Many of them were sentenced here for life, a punishment worse than death. Those sentenced to death, like The Dark Swordsman, were the lucky ones.

Counting the levels and cells, Tess finally came to the one she seeked, cell 357 on level 6. Lost’s cell.

This place was only one level above the bottom. Even guards were afraid to go down there, because of the stories of ghosts and other undead monsters.

Looking into the cell, Tess could only see a few feet behind the rusted bars. After that, it was pitch blackness.

She didn't know what to do, not having thought this far ahead. Should she call out to confirm whether it was him? Or should she just stand here and wait?

“H-hello?” Tess said hesitantly, seeming to shrink a little. That single word echoed through the blackness, slowly being consumed by the darkness.

She waited there, in a tense silence. When the response finally came, Tess was both relieved and unnerved. It came in the form of chuckles. It was amused, sad and somehow evil sounding, like the cackle of a mad man. It lasted only a few seconds, but it still left Tess unnerved.

“Are you L-lost?” Tess said, her voice cracking.

“I would dare say, you are lost, Princess,” came Lost’s voice from the shadows in the cell.

Now that she knew it was him, Tess regained some of her confidence and composure. Standing tall, Tess spoke with a slightly more steady voice, “I want to know who you are.”

“Me?” Came his mocking voice, sounding annoyed and amused. “Why would you want to know about a monster like me. You elves already know everything.”

“B-because I need to know,” Tess said, not meaning to sound demanding, but it came out that way.

Then two amber colored lights appeared in the back of the cell. Looking like they belonged to a demon. “Why do you need to know?”

“I can’t say,” Tess said, unsure herself. She wasn't sure, but it seemed that their history contained little to nothing on the Dark Swordsman. Like it had been removed.

“Fine, it's not like I’m going to live anyways,” Lost said, his eyes piercing through Tess’s soul, “I am a monster, that is all you need to know about me.”

The elven princess didn't know what to say to that, trying to find a response. Till finally, without thinking, she blurted out, “I don't think you're a monster.”

“Oh? You don't, well that’s a first,” He said, honestly sounding mildly surprised. “You're wrong though. I am a monster. A merciless killer, thief and destroyer.”

“I dont think thats true.”

He chuckled again, “Think what you want, but know that I have tried to help others. Though, that doesn't change what I am.”

Help others? Yes, Tess thought that, but she was also finding her assumptions to be incorrect that he wasn't what the tales knew him as. That he was insane. How could one laugh in this place?

She finally worked up the nerve to ask what she had come here to say, “I want to learn more about magic.”

Tess was sure that the face hidden in those shadows smirked at her, “Well, i’m sorry, but I dont have the time. I have an appointment with an executioner tomorrow. Plus, I don't think I would survive another Transference of Knowledge.”

A twinge of disappointment went through her heart, but she also knew that it was highly unlikely that he would agree. She tried one last time, even though she knew it was highly unlikely she could do it. “I may be able to stop the execution, but only if you agree to teach me.”

The eyes stared at her, burrowing into her soul, “I don't think even you can get an order repealed from your father. Especially when I ‘attacked’ you.” She heard the sound of chains jingling. “I honestly believe it might be for the best for me to die. Then there might be a chance I won't lose myself to the Wraith.”

Tess crinkled her brow, “Wraith?”

There came a snorting sound, “My magic is ever slowly consuming me. It may be hardly noticeable, but I am slowly losing myself, bit-by-bit, to the Wraith of Darkness. Even though I know its only real in my head, that doesn't mean it can’t hurt me.”

Tess didn’t exactly understand what he was talking about, but she understood enough. He was slowly being driven insane. “I-i’m sorry.”

“Don't be, it's not like you could do anything,” he responded, his eyes moving away from her and then back.

“Well… I’m still sorry.”

He laughed a little, this one was honest and amused. “I thank you for visiting me, princess. To talk to such a bad man and try to convince him he was a good man. For that I can give you a few tips on the use of your magic,” He said, then continued. “It helps if you use some kind of object that you have a bond with to direct and control your power. Back before I trapped the magic, people used wands, belts, rings, staffs and other items to help them control their magic. I even saw someone use a rug to direct their magic,” he chuckled at the memory. “Then if you developed a ‘spell’, as we used to call it, you can tie it with a word or phrase to trigger it from your mind. The more powerful the spell, the more you have to say. ”

Tess was speechless. The idea of using an item to direct magic had never occurred to her. Even if in the fairy tales wizards and other magic users used staffs or wands to cast magic, she had always thought it a bit silly. “Thank you.”

“Do not thank me, now you should go. I imagine that you aren't meant to be here.”

“Y-yes,” Tess said, then she started to shuffle off, then turned back. “Good bye, and even if you think yourself a monster, I don't believe it.”

She then turned back around and walked back into the dark, the light fading with her. Laughter echoing down the halls from cell 357.