76th Summer 515AV
“Stop your petchin’ struggling boy,” a man’s harsh voice snapped in his direction. Maddoch felt himself being slung back onto his feet where he’d slipped on the compact dirt. He was thrashing in the bonds that held him, his vision obscured by the sack over his head, and his protests muffled by the gag in his mouth.
At one point, the ethaefal had managed to slip free from the brute’s grasp, his legs straining in exertion as he ran, blindly. Something blunt smashed into his back, and he sprawled. A heavy boot pressed against his neck in warning while a woman’s voice cackled in the background. The sack was promptly pulled from his head, and though he winced from the sudden intrusion of light, he met the man’s wicked grin.
“Cheer up, slave. It’s not the end of the world, but you’ll certainly see it from here.”
Maddoch yelled in a frantic, muffled protest, but his fist was swiftly brought down on the ethaefal’s head, and his world turned to darkness.
-----------------------------
Wake up.
Whispers flooded the black, formless chaos of his mind. It thrummed like the ripple of sound and water; he could see flashes of images and feel the weight of something around him, like a pressure that threatened to consume him.
Wake up, Achenar.
The darkness was dissipating, giving way to sensations; of cold and dampness. The weight felt more acute around his wrists and ankles and he could feel a biting hardness that brought back harrowing memories of someone he had hoped he’d never set eyes on again.
I know you missed me.
Maddoch’s eyes flickered open. The sparse lights that decorated the room created splotches of lights from his vision, and he shook his head with a heavy groan. His head throbbed painfully, and once his eyes began to focus, he noted the compact walls and wooden floors. Chains hung from the ceiling, and there were bars in some areas that appeared like cellars. The ethaefal’s breathing became sporadic. He jerked where he sat, only to feel the heavy weight of manacles bite into his wrist and ankles, limiting his movement.
“Were you dreaming of paradise, slave?”
There was a characteristic creak of the floorboards behind him, and a shiver ran down Maddoch’s stiffened spine. That was the voice that haunted his waking nightmares. The ethaefal squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t answer, lowering his head.
“No?” The Radacke approached methodically, his gloved hands trailing over the hard wooden table.
Maddoch’s breathing intensified; his eyes shut and sweat trickling down his brow. He had never felt such intense fear than at this moment. He felt a finger lift his chin, and the ethaefal jerked his head away. The defiance was ill received, and the dynast brutally gripped Maddoch’s jaw in one hand, forcing his gaze to meet his.
“Did you have fun on your five year excursion, pet?” Zaelsen Radacke questioned with a satisfied smirk, tracing the sigil of the Hammer on his captive’s temple. “In a way, you never truly escaped your place.” There was a smug undertone to his words as he shoved the captive’s head away.
Maddoch watched him with an intensity he’d never before had the willpower to muster. “Let me go.”
“Let you go?” Zaelsen laughed, walking toward the counter built against the wall, where he picked up what appeared to be a ring. “I do believe you don’t want to be let go, Achenar.” He lifted the jewelry, the very one that Maddoch had kept on his person for five years.
“Curious to find this among your possessions. My ring, of all things.” He approached the bound captive, holding it aloft in front of his face and idly turning it in his fingers. “A keepsake, perhaps? Whatever would an escaped slave do with such a thing?”
Maddoch didn’t answer.
“You could have sold it,” Zaelsen continued. “Or bartered it for freedom. But curiously enough, you didn’t. And why is that, Achenar?” His coal-black gaze lowered to bore into the ethaefal’s. Maddoch stared back at him, his jaw clenched tight. The Radacke’s smile was menacingly sweet. “I do believe you know the reason why.” He set the ring down on the table the ethaefal was bound to and turned his back to face the wall lined with what Maddoch finally realized were torture implements.
Something churned in his gut, like a primal fear the likes of which he’d never felt before.
At one point, the ethaefal had managed to slip free from the brute’s grasp, his legs straining in exertion as he ran, blindly. Something blunt smashed into his back, and he sprawled. A heavy boot pressed against his neck in warning while a woman’s voice cackled in the background. The sack was promptly pulled from his head, and though he winced from the sudden intrusion of light, he met the man’s wicked grin.
“Cheer up, slave. It’s not the end of the world, but you’ll certainly see it from here.”
Maddoch yelled in a frantic, muffled protest, but his fist was swiftly brought down on the ethaefal’s head, and his world turned to darkness.
-----------------------------
Wake up.
Whispers flooded the black, formless chaos of his mind. It thrummed like the ripple of sound and water; he could see flashes of images and feel the weight of something around him, like a pressure that threatened to consume him.
Wake up, Achenar.
The darkness was dissipating, giving way to sensations; of cold and dampness. The weight felt more acute around his wrists and ankles and he could feel a biting hardness that brought back harrowing memories of someone he had hoped he’d never set eyes on again.
I know you missed me.
Maddoch’s eyes flickered open. The sparse lights that decorated the room created splotches of lights from his vision, and he shook his head with a heavy groan. His head throbbed painfully, and once his eyes began to focus, he noted the compact walls and wooden floors. Chains hung from the ceiling, and there were bars in some areas that appeared like cellars. The ethaefal’s breathing became sporadic. He jerked where he sat, only to feel the heavy weight of manacles bite into his wrist and ankles, limiting his movement.
“Were you dreaming of paradise, slave?”
There was a characteristic creak of the floorboards behind him, and a shiver ran down Maddoch’s stiffened spine. That was the voice that haunted his waking nightmares. The ethaefal squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t answer, lowering his head.
“No?” The Radacke approached methodically, his gloved hands trailing over the hard wooden table.
Maddoch’s breathing intensified; his eyes shut and sweat trickling down his brow. He had never felt such intense fear than at this moment. He felt a finger lift his chin, and the ethaefal jerked his head away. The defiance was ill received, and the dynast brutally gripped Maddoch’s jaw in one hand, forcing his gaze to meet his.
“Did you have fun on your five year excursion, pet?” Zaelsen Radacke questioned with a satisfied smirk, tracing the sigil of the Hammer on his captive’s temple. “In a way, you never truly escaped your place.” There was a smug undertone to his words as he shoved the captive’s head away.
Maddoch watched him with an intensity he’d never before had the willpower to muster. “Let me go.”
“Let you go?” Zaelsen laughed, walking toward the counter built against the wall, where he picked up what appeared to be a ring. “I do believe you don’t want to be let go, Achenar.” He lifted the jewelry, the very one that Maddoch had kept on his person for five years.
“Curious to find this among your possessions. My ring, of all things.” He approached the bound captive, holding it aloft in front of his face and idly turning it in his fingers. “A keepsake, perhaps? Whatever would an escaped slave do with such a thing?”
Maddoch didn’t answer.
“You could have sold it,” Zaelsen continued. “Or bartered it for freedom. But curiously enough, you didn’t. And why is that, Achenar?” His coal-black gaze lowered to bore into the ethaefal’s. Maddoch stared back at him, his jaw clenched tight. The Radacke’s smile was menacingly sweet. “I do believe you know the reason why.” He set the ring down on the table the ethaefal was bound to and turned his back to face the wall lined with what Maddoch finally realized were torture implements.
Something churned in his gut, like a primal fear the likes of which he’d never felt before.
