By the time we arrived at the outskirts of Juntorrow I was already on the verge of giving up. I felt like I had nothing left. The only thing keeping me on my feet was my own stubborn defiance. I refused to die, and the Terrelans refused to kill me. It's their way, and the Red Cells are there to force the issue. I mention this, because as bad as my forced march to Juntorrow was, my stay in the Red Cells was worse. Though at least there wasn't much in the way of walking. Something to be grateful for, I suppose.
Whenever we stopped, I slumped. Whenever I slumped, someone hit me. We stopped outside of Juntorrow for hours and I earned more than a few new bruises. I briefly caught sight of Hardt and he was hunched over and bleeding from a cut on his head, his left eye swollen shut. We met each other's gaze for just a moment, and I found myself standing a little taller. Then, someone punched me, and I found myself on the floor instead. When tied to horse and it starts moving, you start moving. It's wise to make it your choice, especially when you're entering a city of cobbled streets.
News of my arrival had spread. The people of Juntorrow shouted and jeered, some even throwing things at me. I took a stone to the face that sent me reeling and had to struggle to get back to my feet before the rope pulled taught. Their hate of me seemed a disproportionate thing. My actions could not have affected the citizens of Juntorrow to such a degree, but then I suppose it didn't need to. Maybe there had been lies told about me, news reported that turned me into an invading despot. Perhaps they hadn't even heard of me at all but jumped on the opportunity to throw mindless hate my way. People are like that sometimes, cheering on the suffering of others, often as a way to forget their own. I weathered the assaults without complaint, but my hatred and anger kindled inside once more.
Ssserakis remained utterly silent. I was no longer blocking my horror from manipulating my shadow, but it was absent somehow. I couldn't even feel it inside. That saddened me far more than the fools shouting vitriol at me.
Eventually we arrived at the gates to the Terrelan palace itself. We stopped there. I slumped and someone punched me in the kidney. As if it wasn't hard enough to find any comfort, a punch to the kidney only serves to compound the issue. Though I must admit, my pride rose a little then. To think I was important enough to warrant an audience with the Emperor himself before they dealt with me for good. I didn't understand the truth yet.
The field marshal turned back to me. He didn't smile, as some people might have, but there was a savage satisfaction in his eyes, along with some pity. There is little that raises my defiant streak quite like pity.
The gates were opened, and I was marched through with a combination of being pushed and dragged all at once. The Terrelan royal palace is a grand, sprawling thing that overlooks Juntorrow from a raised hill near the centre. It is a marvel of gleaming stone, stained glass windows, and towers. The tallest tower stood apart and alone at the zenith of a hundred polished white steps, it rose like a dark grey monolith at the centre of the palace. The Emperor's tower. It's said he could see all Juntorrow from the rooftop. A commanding view of his empire. I assumed that was where they were taking me, to be humbled in front of their ruler. Instead, I was pushed to the side, away from the tower and towards a squat, ugly building that looked out of place amidst the glory of the palace. It was an apt appearance. The soldiers pushed me towards the dungeon. Towards the Red Cells. I tried glancing behind, attempting to look for Hardt, but was cuffed about the head. My dignity was well and truly gone now.
I was led into the darkness, lit only by flickering lantern light, and down into the depths. It was like returning home. Beaten and chained, led deep underground, my magic stripped from me, and nothing to look forward to but torture and death. The circle was complete. But unlike the Pit, there was no great cavern down in the Red Cells, no scabs nor digging, no rough-hewn walls or discarded tools. Down there were stairs, ordered corridors with equally spaced doors, and screams. Some were the wails of the damned, people long since devoid of sanity, and others were of true pain brought about by torture at the hands of seasoned professionals. It was not long before I was adding my own screams to the cacophony, and they were never torn willingly from my throat.
The field marshal was gone, but the soldiers who led me were no less rough with their treatment, and they even pulled me aside to give me a last beating before finally shoving me into my new home. One thing to be said for having an arm of solid stone, it does a good job of protecting your vitals when you're curled into a ball receiving a kicking. Eventually they opened a door and tossed me inside, slamming it shut behind me. I crumpled against a wall and didn't bother getting up. I'm not even sure I could have. Something felt broken inside, a rib maybe, and the pain was so excruciating even lying still was no respite. The darkness was complete and Ssserakis provided me no night sight. I closed my eyes and found some small measure of escape in the oblivion of sleep.
I woke to light spilling into my cell from a small hole set head height in the door. For the first time, I could clearly see my new home and it's fair to say I'd lived in better. My cell was no larger than a cupboard, and even as short as I am, I was unable to stretch out fully in any direction unless I was standing. There was a bucket in one corner, and I was certain much of the unpleasant smell was coming from that direction, and above me hung a rope tied into a noose. That was it, nothing else in the cell but me and my pain. No window, no cot, no ratty blanket to sleep under, not even any straw to protect me from the cold stone floor. Everything in that cell was there to make the noose seem more tempting.
Something passed in front of the hole in the door and obscured the light. I saw eyes peering at me for a moment, and then the sound of a key turning a lock. Then, the door pulled open. The light that flooded in nearly blinded me, despite being dim, and I pushed myself further back against the wall, shielding my eyes with my good arm and groaning in pain as my body reminded me I had a broken rib.
A figure limped into the cell and stood between me and the door. I recognised the sharp features and glossy black hair, along with the gold on black uniform. Prena Neralis had come to visit me. She wore a new sword at her hip, a plain thing of silver steel that lacked both the grandeur and power that Neverthere had shone with. I attempted a mocking laugh, but it came out as a cough that wracked my body with new pain. Prena said nothing, only watched me through cold, harsh eyes, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
A second figure passed in front of the door, this one wider than Prena and a little shorter. He had a dangerous smile on his face, accentuated by the dark beard streaked with grey. He wore a fine suit of red on black and carried no visible weapon, and he walked like a man in charge of things. There is a way that people of power move, as though the whole world revolves around them. They expect things to move out of their way and so walk without concern or respect. I have known many people like this over the years and I have hated all but one.
"It's good to finally meet you, Eskara Helsene," the man said in a voice like a crackling hearth fire, all warmth and light hiding the dangerous heat of the flames. "I've heard a lot about you for quite some time now."
"Should I care who you are?" My voice was a rasping croak and I tasted blood on my lips.
"Oh yes." That smile and the way he looked at me… the memory of it still makes my skin crawl to this day. Like a beggar staring at a banquet, unable to decide which delicacy to sample first. I hated the way he looked at me as much as I hated the man himself. "We've been at odds for as long as you've been alive. You've been my enemy, my prisoner, my quarry, a thorn in my side. Prena here was quite beside herself when I gave the order to leave you be."