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Twisted Night: Chapter 17

Dread. A spine-tingling sensation that could freeze the mightiest of hearts, still their breaths, and turn their legs to jelly. Hadariel found himself fighting off this growing gnaw, deep in his stomach as he quivered in his manticore leather boots. Yet another test he wished he’d not been around for.

Hands folded across from him onto the stone pitch black table of the cramped room they occupied. The numerous candles scattered around the patchwork bookcases, lit the knickknacks and jars with an orange glow. The air was thick with the smokey aroma of burning incense, wrinkling his nose as he tried to meet the gaze of his wizardry tutor. Amber specters gleamed at him in the dim light, a malevolent visage of a pearly smile to go along with them.

Flowing robes of blood crimson flowed down from this man’s shoulders, laced and lined with various runes of charcoal like thread. Like a waterfall of fabric, they molded over his form, twisting around the arms of his mahogany chair. He had a beard as thick as hedges, a scar above his left eye, and hands far too wrinkly for a man his age. The crow’s feet at his eyes told the tale of numerous lengthy nights with only a solitary lantern for company. How many people had this man helped torture for this Theren? Why would he be smiling so if not for some cruel thrill? Hadariel could only imagine the number as he glared daggers, hiding how his body begged to tremble before him.

The man drummed his heavy fingers across the table, smiling giving way to building impatience. He repeated his command in a demanding tone, “Do you have wax between your ears child? Do what we instructed again. Prevent me from entering your mind. Or face the consequences for your ineptitude.”

“I…I’m trying.” Hadariel slumped, he held his head. How it felt close to bursting. Like an egg ready to hatch. “It’s not exactly the easiest things to do.” He squeezed tight his arm.

“And yet the three previous attempts have proven just as troublesome. I suspect that more strength lurks beneath the surface. We just have to find the correct key to bring it out.” He wiggled his fingers with a cruel grin. “Unless you’re starting to like your punishments?

His blood froze as his eyes flicked to the bloodied arm and the scared words written into his flesh. In cursive writing they traveled from elbow to wrist, the four same words repeated three times. “I will try harder.” He shook not of his own accord, hating his weakness.

“Perhaps you’d like a fourth line? Make it an even number?”

“No.” He clenched his teeth with a hiss. What did his answer matter anyway? The old man was going to continue regardless. In fact he pictured this freak got some sort of sick thrill from watching him struggle. How was this supposed to be fair? He’d just learned this technique to keep out an unwanted mind, yet here they had him against a fully trained mage! Course what did he expect? Things were never fair around here. But what was the point of pushing ever harder? Why did they need him this badly to learn this? Theren’s words hung in his ear like a troublesome fog.

You want to be trusted? Then pass this test. Only then will you be illuminated in your business being here. When your mind is as guarded as the vaults of Zarcana.

The mage opposite him sneered, waving his hand in a dismissive fashion. “I tire of your excuse of the difficulty. Did you think we had not gone through you’re teacher’s files on you? He showered you with praise, called you a prodigy. Yet here you are before me, putting on a disappointing show like you’re hardly a second year wizard! I’m about ready to write down you’re no longer complying….Or you’re growing more distracted.” He wagged his finger, “That’s it isn’t it?”

“You’d be wrong.” He composed himself, trying to not meet the man’s all too smug grin. “How many times must I repeat myself. Do you think I’d lie right about now?”

The man of course didn’t believe him, rolling his eyes with a sigh. “I’ll be the judge of that. Is it the dragoness by chance?” He leaned forward, teeth more like fangs of some beast. “I’ve always found her quite troubling. No surprise if she is intentionally hindering your growth. Tried to tell Theren to not toss you to his wintery pet….But no, what do I know?”

He didn’t meet his gaze, but accidently flinched as the mage wagged his finger again.

“Aha!” He pulled back with a surprised growl, smacking the table like a disobedient child. “I knew it! Wait until Theren hears about his failed experiment!” He nearly jumped from his seat, eyes twinkling with aspirations. “Maybe I’ll even get a promotion.”

“But she isn’t!” He spat, sweat already dripping down his brow. The wizard didn’t seem convinced, simply crossing his arms with a furrowed brow. “She’s been doing everything possible to keep my mind focused. Trust me.” He laughed nervously, “I hate her for it at times.”

The mage scowled at him, but not challenging him on the statement. “Then try to resist boy. Prove me wrong.” The wizard stood, entering a practiced stance. “Try to stop me from reading your mind like the pages of a book. Until then you can’t be trusted.”

Trusted. He laughed internally at the thought. They were worried about him being untrustworthy. The ones that’d kidnapped him and his mother? Destroyed Artic Wind’s home and scattered her family? They were the paranoid ones? Course none of this mattered as the square jawed man finished weaving his spell and pressed his course fingers to the teen’s temples. The command phrase left his lips as if smeared with thick grease.

Bells rang sounded far away, announcing the arrival of the spell. The air smelled like the moist leavings of a morning fog, inundating every breath. He trembled as slight squeezing began at his temples. There were the normal symptoms of the spell. Which meant the mind numbing pain was about to start.

As if on cue his body convulsed, blinding arching his spine. He recalled screaming to the heavens, but no words slipped from his lips. His eyes rolled into the back of his skull, caressed with all the heat of a volcano. His legs shook and buckled, shins seeking out hardened wood. He collapsed to the ground, squirming and thrashing to an unknown song. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Whatever plan he’d even began to concoct was boiled out of him.

Memories were pulled and dragged, laid before him like a picture book of his past. They came and came without his command, dancing to the command of their puppeteer. First he was a child, laughing away with his mother, the next he was training with his master happy as could be, lastly he was being dragged away by all too many wizard hands. If only he could hear them, as maybe it would cancel out the near deafening scream sounding the entire time.

Slam! Hadariel head slammed to the table, bringing an end to the cacophony of screams. He groaned, gasping for breath as the air filled with the disappointed clicking of a mage’s tongue. His body felt as if it had been scraped for miles upon an uneven stone street, hitting every stone that stood in his way. But his captor showed no pity, planting a crimson slipper on his side.

“How utterly disappointing, yet unsurprising.” The man’s voice was stern and gravely. “Clearly this Artic Wind is having an adverse effect on your progress. Mark my words, you will be separated the moment I sign the papers.”

“No..She’s not…” He mouthed in an unintelligible slur, shaky fingers grasping at the stone to stand. But he tried, finding no feeling in his legs and instantly tumbled back to the ground. He groaned as if a knife had been dragged along his insides.

“Oh how could I forget or wager?” The man spun around happily before taking his seat. “I think this performance deserves yet another line? Don’t you agree?”

“No!” He tried to scream but it was too late, the mage had already activated the curse.

Pain squirmed and cut through his all too sensitive limb. It was like someone had taken a heated blade to his forearm, slowly sticking in the pointed tip. He didn’t have the energy to scream as held tight his elbow and tried to steady his trembling arm. He dared not look as the cursive lines were carved into his flesh, bubbling up crimson droplets to run rivers down his flesh. He was left gasping for air, stars burst in his vision. Why did everything smell like iron? He wobbled and collapsed to his back, vision blurring. Everything seemed to stop, end, and then blackness took him.

He awoke sometime later in his draconic prison, his sheets wrapped tight around him. He blinked groggily as his arm throbbed like a new heart.

Was I placed here by the guards or Artic Wind?

He groaned and rubbed his neck, glaring at scars left from the wizard’s cruelty. He could still see the cursive lines clear as day, highlighted by dried blood. He stashed his arm below his pillow, not even daring to think about how long those would take to heal. But instead of focusing on the arm, he drifted to the spell.

How can I even counter that spell? And why couldn’t they tell me? What is so vastly important that I must learn this? The wizard’s suggestion of his effort weighing heavily on his thoughts. Am I not trying hard enough?

This is when he decided to have trouble with his magic? Of all the times in his entire magical career. When his mother’s life and Artic Wind’s freedom were on the line? He buried his face into his pillow and screamed his frustration.

“Still pouting? I’d not keep yelling at that pillow. I’m not sure if you know…But they can’t listen…” Arctic wind’s voice came mockingly from her elevated perch. Her claw went to her chin. “Unless you found the awoken one from a few years back. Such the chatter box. I don’t think I ever enjoyed ripping something to pieces.”

He didn’t answer.

“Dragon got your tongue?” Her tail swished along the edge as she rumbled. “Oh..I know. Could it be you couldn’t stand the sight of blood? Hardly surprising. How they squirm and talk in concerned tones when you show them.” A small white furred rabbit hopped across the floor, catching her eye. As if pulled by an invisible string the white snout followed every movement.

Hadariel watched the tiny mammal for a fleeting moment, pondering why on earth a rabbit of all things was in here. But he dismissed it with a groan, he was far too tired exhausted to even care. He flopped onto his back, staring at the dangling stalactites. “No. It was some mental spell. Designed to pierce my mind and read it. They want to shield me from something. But of course, they won’t tell me what exactly. And get this. They don’t trust me!”

“Nor should they.” She ruffled her wings with a mocking coo. “Never trust anyone Hadariel. Especially mages.”

“What about dragons?” He scoffed, his mother’s words whispering in his ear.

“Never dragons.” She rumbled, “We are most clever when we want to be.”

“Noted.”

“But if your hypothesis is correct. It does beg the question on why. Really boggles the mind does it not?” She fixed him with pleased slits, happily swishing her tail. Like she knew the answer and was dangling it like a toy. Seeing what kind of hoops, he’d jump through.

He was in no mood for games. Especially of the draconic variety. “Do you know? You are the warden last time I checked.”

Her paw went to her chest, giving him a mocking gasp. “And you think the give their dragon in the dungeon any thought into their plans?” She gasped again as if to an invisible audience before settling back down to him with a clasp of her jaws. “Don’t act shocked. But even if I knew.” She grinned. “I wouldn’t be spoiling the surprise now would I?”

“Great.” He plopped back to his pillow, head spinning. If she was in on it, then he really was in trouble.

“But go on and humor me.” Her voice called to him, almost a mirror of his concerned mother. “Tell me what troubles you.”

“If I fail…They have my mother….The mage today threatened to take me away from you.” He winced as he brushed his aching arm.

“Not likely.” She growled. “Tell me the spell. I bet I know the problem.”

So, he explained the process. How he preformed the typical mental gymnastics to ward off magical powers. Picturing a mighty wall round his brain and feeling the invading magic out to guide It around instead of threw his mental castle.

“That’s your problem.” Artic wind’s tail tapped excitedly as she laughed, causing the rabbit to scamper to a hiding spot in a blind panic. “You’re thinking like a wizard, a human. Systematically controlling magic and building a wall.”

“And what?” He rolled his hand, staring at the ceiling. “Do it like a dragon?” He knew their methods of magic were different, but how would that help him? “Cause I’m not sure if you’re aware in your draconic wisdom…Humans can’t just feel out magic. We must use it methodically. Not unless you got some spirit or draconic blood in you or something.”

“Yes, I am aware.” She growled. “I am far older and more terrible than you. Try to wrap your little brain around this…Picture a door in your mental castle. Save your strength for when he’s going to open it. Attack when you should defend. It might catch him off guard.” She waggled her haunches as the rabbit crept back out.

“That sounds so…Predatory. Think it would work?”

“Look who you’re talking to…Apex predator here. And it worked on all the humans I’ve come across.” She opened her maw, tapping her tail as she mockingly gave feigned screams of terror. “Each and every time.”

“Are you certain?” He tapped his hands together, doing his best to not picture the slaughter she’d enacted.

“Lose the doubt boy. You will do it. Just try and believe you can.”

Simple and straightforward advice. Even if it was from such a source. He perked up, catching hr inquisitive eyes. “Well. Can you try the spell on me? Help me practice?”

She simply snorted, “You’re not my prey.” She glanced to her books, a questioning look spreading about her face. “Save yourself for the wizard that tests you.”She placed a paw to her chest. “I would prove too much for your puny mind to handle, and besides.” She snorted, eyes staring back at the tiny rabbit. “Enjoy the hunt, patience, enjoy the feeling of something crushed between your jaws.”

“Ew.” He gagged, “I’m not a dragon.”

“Pity.” Artic wind took flight, changing her size midflight. The dragoness dipped down and with a flash of her teeth the rabbit was caught. She thrashed, snapping the tiny mammal’s neck. She landed with a flare of her wings, looking prouder than a cat. “See?’ She spat it out. “Patience and planning and you’ll succeed. How I wish I could see the look on this mage when you pounce.”

He pondered her demonstration as she picked it back up and returned to her perch. He took the words to heart, planning, remembering the sensations he’d undergone. Could he act as she said? Be the predator? He gulped as he tried to collect his thoughts, there was only one way to find out.

The next day to no one’s surprise he was collected by Theren himself. The elf glared menacingly at the cavern of Artic Wind’s treasures like some pile of discarded trash. His tone was swift and taught, leaving little room for disobedience. “Come child. We have another test.”

So, without incident he followed. Dragged yet again down a different hallway than before. Hadariel suspected they changed them as they seemed to take far too many turns from last time. Unceremoniously he was thrown into the cramped room, nearly slamming his head against the onyx table.

“Let’s hope you succeed in there. Otherwise more interesting methods will have to be tried.”

His arm ached on its own accord. “I understand.” He pushed himself to stand, seating himself across the crimson robed wizard.

“Welcome back boy.” The wizard caressed his scruffy beard. “Prepared for the day have you?” His malevolent smile sent a chill down the teen’s spine. “One last ditch effort by Theren to prove me wrong?”

“You could say something like that.” He replied coolly, trying to keep his racing heart in check.

Calm and patient. It is I that is the hunter. He is nothing but my unaware prey. Advancing into the trap of my making.

“Oh, look at that confidence. That heavy stare.” The mage chuckled, “Did the dragon offer some pointers did she? I’d love to know what she thought. When it comes to magic. Dragons hardly compare. Not sure what sob story she’s told you, but we’re doing you a favor. One wrong move and she’ll discard you like a sullied rag.”

“That remains to be seen.” He growled, crossing his hands in his lap. “Can we get this test over with?”

“Oh but one more thing.” The mage chuckled, fastioning a blackened collar around Hadariel’s neck. The ones that stopped the user from casting magic. “Lets see how well you do with that little addition.”

“With this?” Hadariel tugged at the cold iron. How was he supposed to defend like this? Would it even stop his plan?

The wizard held up his hand, entering the familiar stance. “Ready child? Or are you destined for more lines upon your arm?”

“Go ahead.” He sneered, repeating Artic Wind’s words in his thoughts. He’d just have to believe he could repel him. Even if he had the collar. “I’m ready for you.”

The mage preformed the same motions as the other day, repeating the same words. But when his fingers touched upon Hadariel’s brow the teen was ready to spring his trap.

He did what the dragoness said, conjuring up a mental fortress and picturing it with an iron door. The magical sense warped and twirled, sending tremors up his spine. He could feel the mental tendrils seeking out his door, anxiously waiting to peel it back and see inside. Perfectly unaware of the trap within. Then the door flung open, the room pulsed with an un-natural power. Out went the candles around them, leaving them in darkness.

With all the fortitude he could muster he surged mentally through his mind’s door. Rushing out like an unstoppable tide. His heart flared with an inner cold, spreading like an artic wind to every inch of his limbs. Any stress that had remained was lost within a span of a heartbeat; he felt his lip crack into a smile as he pushed straight on through to his captor’s mind.

What’s this?

The mage fumbled to speak, unable to move as the briefest flashed of memory bubbled up from the recesses of his mind. Tons of little things that didn’t matter, like what he ate for breakfast, how he dressed, or how he liked to sing in the bath. But one stood out among the rest, one that nearly stopped Hadariel’s heart.

From the swarm of sounds and color was a broken man crumpled on a stone floor in his own blood. He lay on his side, hands covering his crimson soaked face. Eyes like Hadariel’s own shown back at him, wide and filled to the brim with terror. Each shaking breath trembled the man’s bruised limbs, filling the air with a raspy scratch.

“It would appear as though you weren’t enough.” Came Theren’s voice, hard and cruel as the man wheezed on the floor. “Still.” The mage crouched, caressing the broken man’s face. “The portal remains. Do you know what this means?”

“I tried.” The man gasped, unable to resist, blood oozing from his teeth.

Theren scowled, tossing him to the floor. “Pity. I thought we’d found the answer.” Theren paced, hand on his thin chin. Stopping and asking another unseen person. “Did he have family? Others we can use?”

“We have to look.” Came the square mage’s voice.

“Pray that you do.” Theren snarled. “For all our sakes, before things spiral out of hand.”

But though they chatted away at various things, Hadariel stayed locked onto the man’s blank face. Nothing but bruise, bloody scuffs, maybe a broken eye socket or two. Somehow, he knew this man. He didn’t know why, but he collapsed to his knees. Then the overpowering cold sunk deeper, sinking icy tendrils to the marrow of his bones.

Like a candle set to the page, the scene was swept away. The mage he was facing was thrashing in his seat. His spine was arched as his jaw snapped open and closed like some twisted nutcracker. Hadariel’s hand shot up, fingers opening on their own accord.

“H-How?” The wizard gurgled before his neck slowly began to twist on it’s own. “How did you-“ With a nightmarish snap he was silenced, his body fell limp and rose slowly into the air.

Emotionlessly Hadariel rose, hand still facing the mage’s corpse. Blackness ate away at his eyes as a horrifying shriek was loosed between his teeth. The room shuttered and quaked. Jars broke and splintered, spilling their contents in series of disorganized splashes. Candles broke, the table shattered down the middle as if made from simple clay. But worst of all was the mage’s body, that was slowly ripped limb from limb before Hadariel’s now calm stare. Even when blood splattered across the stone, painting his face he didn’t move.

“I think that’s enough training for one day.” Theren’s calm voice emerged from the walls.

Like a tensed spring, Hadariel snapped to the door. Up went his hands as the door began to quake. He’d be free from this prison. But a shock of lightning surged around his neck, cascading down his body. He twitched and spasmed, collapsing to the ground in a smoking pile. The last thing he saw was the terrified looks of other mages peering in some trying to cover their mouths from vomiting at the carnage. But among them all, Theren was smiling.