I think I'm Alone Now.... [Open]

[Kaison of Larris]

Strange how one minute you can be a hero, the next reduced to this thought Astor, looking around the dank interior of his cell, the one he knew so well, he added bitterly. Six months of darkness, six months of waiting, his whole body was tense, wondering when the Overlord's patience would snap, he didn't even think of him as Cairon anymore, he wasn't his friend any longer, he was the Warlord, Overlord, Astor's lip curled slightly, Master. Day by day the time simply dragged on, with nothing more interesting happening than the occasional beating. He was the Commandant of Astoria...or at least he had been half a year ago, perhaps the king thought him dead, had elected someone else... He blinked his emerald green gaze and sighed, his blood red hair, outlined against the grey he was leaning against. A cruel chain held his left wrist tight, he winced slightly, his battered body protesting to even the slightest of movements. He had contemplated death so many times recently, all he wanted was to for them to kill him, it couldn't be to long now could it? Why didn't Cairon just finish it? He surely didn't think that after all this time he would talk? The first few months hadn't been to bad, the guards had been civilized at least, all that had changed, rather quickly. His lip curled into a grim smile, what he knew, he had to get to the king, it was the only chance they had against the Eslantian army, and Cairon needed what he knew, that was why he was still alive. His clothes were stained and dirty, rags that were barely holding together, his beloved amour had been removed the day he had arrived. For a week he had stayed in another cell, then six months ago he had been moved here, and the torture had started, it had begun small, the odd punch, kick or shove. Now he was lucky to start the day with a light beating.

He often wondered what was happening out there, in Ariafrost, he no longer thought of himself as part of the world, for in truth he was cut off from the rest of the world here, time was of no coincidence, it dragged by, minute by minute, for a solider this was bad, he had been at the peek of fitness six months ago, daily running and fighting had been no chore for him. He hadn't run anywhere in six months, he hadn't even been outside for six months, he was to thin to put on weight, Cairon did keep him alive but only just, enough so that he didn't faint and rob the guards of their sport, but in truth he was certain Cairon had no idea what was going on down here, he had seen children younger than Kaison, thrown in here for little more than stealing a loaf of bread, for commiting no crime other than trying to get enough to eat, he was almost glad that he was out here, and not trying to survive out there, almost but not quite.

Frustration filled him these days, he needed to get out and try and aid his country, he could fight, he was the only hope the Asturian army had, he hadn't been able to use his powers for at least two months now, he was simply to weak. In truth, he had shut down his powers to stop himself hurting himself any more. He remembered the first major beating he had, had down here, he had opened his powersw as an Empath, halfway through, the savage pleasure that the guard was feeling, it was twice as bad as the beating, so he had locked his powers so he could no longer use them. Perhaps it was for the best, he thought wincing slightly as he shifted posistion, being stuck in here, day in and day out, didn't leave much room to exercise. Suring the first few days he ahd made some effort to stretch and push himself, running up and down the cell and stetching his muscels, but that had been before, he had been beaten so hard it hurt to even move...

[[S]am]

The guard hated it down here in the dank dungeon; in fact he hated the entire d**ned country. He especially hated the sight of the guard's pleasure at hurting his captive. He was a young man, around 18 years of age with a shock of dark brown hair. His eyes were a brilliant golden, hidden by looking down. His face was wearied with many hours on watch, hardened by intense training in the army. He hadn’t wanted to be here, the other guards drew lots to see who got to go down here and beat up the prisoner, but not Sam. Oh no, he skipped every chance he got, but that just drew attention to himself. The Warlord, in all his wisdom, had decided that the Freak should guard the enemy commander, and so Sam had done just that. He had been standing here for hours, waiting for the other guards to go and get drunk, as they always did when it was his turn to stand watch. They knew that this strange, silent man from Astoria would not slack, not he had been sent here by the Warlord himself, and no one ever dared disobey Cairon, not when he was in such a black mood as these days. Eventually the temptation became too great and the other five guards got up, armor clanking as they raised themselves from their slouches. They all muttered a farewell, including many curses and ‘freaks’ that set Sam’s teeth on edge. If only they knew the extent of just how great a freak he really was. The only thing they saw was a strange man, who had golden eyes, black wings that there feathered and an unnatural skill with a sword. They had no idea. He mumbled curses after them, before shifting and glancing at the prisoner.

The truth was Sam was half-elf, with no idea who his parents had been. His eyes were golden because of his elf heritage, and he had wings because he was Astorian. He had been forcibly recruited into the Eslantian army when he was ten years old, and had hated and rebelled against it for years. He wasn’t paid like the rest of the army, and had made very few friends, despite having a very open attitude. The truth was he was Astorian and always would be. Cairon had recognized his abilities almost at once, and had already sent him of several small campaigns, leading them despite his inexperience. But now Cairon was forever in an irritable and black mood, and most of the guards did everything to stay out of his way. He had come down here once or twice to look in on the prisoner, but even that had ceased after a while. Sam was dressed in the comfortable leather armor of a spearman, and he held a beautifully crafted spear in his left hand now. It had been one of the few possessions he had been found with, and no one had question why a ten year old should be holding such a rare weapon, they had soon excepted the strange ways of the boy, and had left him be. Sam turned again the prisoner, his heart ringing with pity. It hurt him to see a man brought so low, especially when the two of them shared kinship. He glanced around, knowing already there couldn’t be anyone near. The guards would be drunk by now, and who had ever heard of silent drunk guards? He cleared his throat, and grabbed a plate of food from the table, the food that would have gone to waste. He unlocked the door and laid his spear to one side, carefully laying the plate to one side of the captive. He frowned when he saw the manacles, they weren’t used unless the prisoner was mad or in good health, and this young commander was not going anywhere. He brought out his keys and squinted at them, fumbling for the right one and unlocking his manacle, that had been tied much too tight to the prisoners left wrist. His summoned up a ghost of a smile, his wings making it awkward to move in such a small place, he had known this man before he had been recruited into the army, Astor had started his training in the Astorian army before he had ever known about places as cruel as the Eslantian army.

He had been tough but had never asked for more from them than he had of himself, even doing the runs and exercises with them. In doing so he had earned the respect of the boys far swifter than anyone else, and Sam had missed him in the years of training in a different army. It was amazing how different the two countries were to look at, but even more different was the quality of the people. He hunkered down next the wounded commander, bringing a large flagon of water forwards too. His gaze swept over the commander, wondering if he remembered him. Probably not, as Sam had only begun his training before his village was attacked, separating him forever from his home. There had not been one day that has past that Sam had not wanted to return home, but he could not, for Cairon had kept a wary eye on him, knowing what would happen if he did escape. With his wings he could have carried the news or war to Astoria far swifter than any other, preparing them for a war with Eslantia.

“Commander Astor, perhaps you remember me, and see the boy you once knew in me, but I don’t really have much time to explain. You wish for news from Ariafrost? Forgive me but as you know if you remember, I am as much a prisoner here as you are. I am sorry to say that the rest of Ariafrost does not think Cairon will attack as soon as he is planning, but Astoria and Noterina at least suspect that something is up, Cairon has banned all trade with the other provinces.”

Sam swallowed, looking into the eyes of his one time master, who had treated him as an equal despite his strangeness. He wondered if he remembered, or if he was wasting his time on a broken man. He knew people who were far greater had been broken down here, and he knew if he were caught he would be dragged in front of Cairon. Again. He glanced around, knowing that there was no one here, that none would come for hours, and that they would all be drunk and too lazy to come back. He knew all this because he was half-elf, it was something in his blood that set him on alert when danger was near. To him, all Eslantian’s were still his enemy, because Astoria was in his blood. There was something that made him want to rebel against the country that had been forced upon him, and this was the only thing he could do at present. He shifted his wings nervously, his concern showing in his golden eyes, which glowed like a pair of lamps in the darkness of the dungeon.

“Commander, it’s me, Sam. Sam Arens. From Westwind before the village was destroyed by…by Cairon, remember? I can help you, see that I’m on watch often, and make sure they feed you right. But you can’t give him Astor Myceni, you have to be strong, your country needs you, and you need to be strong if you’re gonna get out of this fix. God alive, if I had known that I would meet my old teacher here, I would have made some effort to look smarter.”

Sam began talking; wanting to bring out something of the man he had known, despite being so young at the time. His face wasn’t the kind of face someone was likely to forget, even if he had only been eight when Astor had known him, the eyes alone made sure of that. He took hold of the man’s shoulder, looking into his eyes, the brightest of greens that he remembered so well. There was a light there, so faint by beatings and hunger that it was all but gone. His knew he had to say something to get the Commander to listen, if he wasn’t already. He settled back, leaning against the wall beside the man, which was uncomfortable against his wings.

“Don’t you remember, Commander? I was the worse in your class to begin with; in fact I had risen to the top before my village was attacked by Cairon. I have longed to see you again many times, but had always thought it would be in battle, not down here in this dark, ungodly place. I thought that I would be forced to fight you; I hope you don’t take it as an insult if you say I am almost relieved you were captured before I had that chance. But tell, what are you still doing here? The mighty Astor would have escaped long before now. You’ve been here for half a year, whilst the whole of Ariafrost remains unaware of what Cairon plans to do. Why are you rotting in this cell, my friend?”

Sam was speaking from his heart, speaking it what he had been wondering all along. It was unusual that an enemy Commander was captured, and they didn’t live this long in prison anyway. He knew that Astor Myceni would never come quietly from battle; he would rather die than give up sword and armor for a life in prison or death. Sam had always his father to be someone like Astor, when the training got too much, when he was scared to death every time Cairon called upon him, he had always imagined what Astor would do, and he had gotten through it. Now Astor needed him, the tables had turned and Sam was almost powerless. He was just a Private, Cairon had never trusted him enough to raise him in rank, which meant he had very little power over the soldiers. But he did have power down here, where rules meant very little. He looked at the Commander hopefully, wondering if his years of imprisonment were at an end, despite being in so much pain, Astor was still legendary. Surely he would now try to escape, or at least make some kind of sign that Sam was here at all?

[Kaison of Larris]

He was listening to the guards that had been posted outside his door again, he had very little else to do down here, Cairon had posted six guards on his door for Mara’s sake, did he think that he could possibly fight back now? After all these months where he had sat back and taken the beatings, the taunts in silence? No, he had to wait, wait for the opportunity that would allow him to pass on his information, he no longer cared whether he himself lived or died, he had gone past caring. He heard the vast majority of the guards leave, no doubt to get drunk, he gave a small sniff, guards under his command had never been allowed even a drop of drink, despite his condition he was still a solder, despite everything he had lost he still had his pride, for the moment, as long as he didn’t give in to what Cairon wanted. The door to his cell was being unlocked, he lifted his head warily, wondering witch guard it was this time, whether he could expect a few punches or expect to fall asleep tonight without his free will. He blinked slightly in surprise, and that in itself was not usual, he wasn’t a man that got surprised easily. A young man was coming into the cell, blonde hair and eyes, such eyes, golden eyes that shimmered in the dark, he had seen them somewhere before, but the pain had blanked his memories, memories he had hidden in himself so he didn’t betray those he loved and had loved him. He hadn’t seen this one before, warily he eyed the plate of food and the mug of water, was this another form of taunting? Or had he found the only kind guard in the whole of Eslantia? Or, he thought was a start, were they going to poison him, had Cairon finally lost his patience? No, Cairon would give anything to know what he knew, or at least he had six months ago… Watching the boy carefully he judged him to be young, younger than twenty for sure, and he had wings…an Astorian, working for Cairon? Had his own people turned traitor on their king now?

He closed his eyes briefly summoning memories he had thought long hidden from his sight, he had to remember where he had seen this man or boy as he would have been, and he remembered vaguely that the boy had been one of his student maybe? He considered it for a moment, but then the powerful magical barrier he himself had set up clamped down on the memories, he momentarily cursed himself, but then remembered, no memory was worth revealing what he knew in a moment of weakness, he silently apologised to himself. Then the youth began to talk, he started, the boy had addressed him as Commander, surely that meant at some point he had known the boy as a pupil? News from the rest of Ariafrost, yes he wanted that more than anything, more than water, more than food, more than sleep he longed to know what was happening, if Cairon had stuck to his world, if he had, then he had stay here, if he hadn’t then he was out of here, faster than an arrow. Searching my memories I found a vague picture of a determined boy who had been rubbish at riding, sword craft and obeying orders, he had been a intelligent boy though, what on earth was he doing here, a prisoner, he looked at Sam, yes that had been the boy’s name Sam, he had given the lad that name himself, he had been there when he had been born, he gave a small sigh, what was the boy still doing here? He had warned him that going looking for his sister in Eslantia would do him no good, but he hadn’t listened he never had, but he had not had the will or authority to stop him following his heart, so he had let him go, he had evidently been pres ganged into joining the army, he felt pity of the boy, it must have been hard, he himself had gone through the training process with Cairon…no don’t think about it, forget everything, you have to, otherwise everything is lost… Banned trade with the other provinces? That would surely work against Cairon, rather than for him? Without the fish from the coast and the meat from inland, Eslantia would be in for a hard winter, but what did he care? The more Eslantia suffered the less likely it would be that she would be ready for war with Astoria. He winced as Sam touched his battered body, he felt a small relief as the manacles on his wrists were removed, he moved his hands to gently rub his blood soaked wrists, nothing he could do, he would just have to make do, he was however, grateful, very, five minutes out of those accursed shackles was blissful, stretching his limbs absently he gave a small nod as he drank the water, it was cold and clean, the best water he had ever tasted, he ate the food in silence, it was good to get something other than stale bread and the odd piece of cheese… He decided he had better reply to the boy, after all he had known his father well, and the fact that he had just made his life a little more bearable counted for something.

“Thank you Sam, I remember you well, Cairon is no danger to Ariafrost, at least, not yet…”

His voice was quiet as it always had been, yet it still held the aura of command, even though he had been removed from command when he had thrown aside his sword. He moved his head slightly to look into the eyes of the youth, he did remember, the boy and his village had both been presumed dead, he had known better, but had kept silent, he owed it to the boy that he hadn’t been there to protect his family when they needed him the most, another person he had failed, he seemed he couldn’t do anything right, at least he had saved his men, and his second, it was something, the men he had fought with were still alive, unless they had since died in the border disputes against the rebels, but he doubted that they would pose much of a threat for the Astorian army, at least he didn’t think they would. He looked at Sam, and knew that he looked a wreck, prison had changed him, more than the numerous campaigns had, more than anything had, even the death of Isabella hadn’t changed him much, he was that kind of person, he stuck solid to his beliefs and saw them through. He wasn’t broken though, he hadn’t given in, if only Sam understood, no one understood what had happened that day, six months ago, only he did, no one else, best it stay that way, less chance of anyone else getting hurt on his account. Concern showed in Sam’s eyes, and it hurt, it shamed him that his former student should see him this way, but it was as it had to be, he knew that Sam could do little, it was enough to see him again, to know he was alive and well, it wasn’t much, but for someone who had lost everything, it meant the world,

“Yes, yes, I know who you are, hard to forget aren’t you? Excellent with a sword, I remember. Sorry to hear about you village, Cairon truly had lost his mind by that point… This place is Godforsaken, no need to stand to ceremony down here, I know to well…”

Again he stopped, unwilling to share even the slightest bit of information, he didn’t do it out of choice, or because he didn’t trust Sam, it was because he had spent his whole life being careful, it had ended with his best friends wife getting murdered, his best friend turning into a monster, and himself, well, just look around, all because he hadn’t been careful enough, he had been stupid and arrogant, his emerald green gaze flicked over to the door, he could escape, with relative ease, but he couldn’t not when the whole of Ariafrost was hanging on the fact that he had to stay, give it another year and a half, then maybe, if he was still alive, he could turn his attention to escape. The pain in his eyes he had tried to hide recently, even more so now, wounds livid and raw pained him, even the wound he had received all those months ago when he had first arrived, was still hurting, he suspected it was his bodies way to reacting against his locked up powers, well let it, he could handle pain. He gave a small laugh when Sam mentioned the fact that he was glad they had met here rather than on the battlefield, it did give him cause to think, he was sad to say he didn’t share Sam’s views,

“Forgive me if I don’t agree! A battlefield was where I was at home. Here, in this place, at the will of Cairon? A long story… Rotting? Who says I’m rotting? I happen to love this cell, why don’t you? Better not help me Sam, I bring trouble, you’re more use to Ariafrost on the battlefield than down here with me…”

He added the plain humour that he had always been trademarked for, he gave a small sigh, the question was one he asked himself every day, why was he still here? Surely the king would benefit more from this information, than two years of peace? But he had made the decision and he was going to stick to it, it was all he had left, after they had taken his pride and his life, he had little left, but Sam was right, he had to fight, the enemy was difficult because it was himself, Sam wanted him to fight the guards, but he had to fight the urge to fight, didn’t Sam know the anger he felt when he had to just lie down and except the beatings? The fury when he was fed scraps like a dog? But he had to, make at least Sam understand… He was probably thinking that Astor Myceni would rather commit suicide than be taken alive, rather than break his sword and toss aside his armour?

“In Ficit Gorge, the final battle, where Cairon retreated, we struck a bargain, he promised to leave Ariafrost alone, and two years was the rule. The price? My life. Not worth much too average man, but to the remainder of my troops who were about to be slaughtered…I thought it was a worthy price, Cairon certainly did.”

He turned his head to look at Sam directly in the eyes, his Empath powers had the colour in his eyes brighter than normal humans, the bright spark of anger was still there, he would fight, but not in the way Sam might expect. He had allowed himself top be taken, he allowed himself even now to be cowed, but that was a show, if, by the time the two years were up he was still alive, then nothing would protect Cairon from his rage, nothing! But, the light in his eyes dimmed slightly as he clamped down on his powers, so that the guards wouldn’t sense his powers, glancing at the door he turned his gaze back to same, he made a small gesture towards the manacles,

“Cairon’s orders, better put them back on before you leave, you’re no use to anyone dead, least of all Astoria.”

[[S]am]

Sam heard the words of his old Commander and couldn’t believe them, wouldn’t. He frowned heavily, knowing that what Astor spoke had to be the truth. But it was so unlikely, giving up a war just for one man? Sam’s gaze flickered across the wall, two lights could be seen against the wall even now, and they had always glittered in the dark, no matter how terrible a place he had been. Cairon was mad; he had to be, to imprison his best friend like this. Sam had heard very little since his capture at the village, but even he had heard about the death of Isabella, the wife of Cairon. Apparently he hadn’t taken it too well. Sam nodded thoughtfully, wondering why Astor looked at him so. Surely he remembered him? He knew enough to know this was the man who had given him his name, but that was all. Sam froze as Astor continued with his tale, and couldn’t help the bubble of anger that rose within his throat. Sure, in sacrificing himself Astor had saved the small group of men at his command, but he may have doomed all of Ariafrost. Even Cairon wasn’t mad enough to attack Ariafrost just yet, he wasn’t strong enough to attack them all just now. Astor had brought them some time, but Cairon hadn’t been ready anyway. Sam almost cried with frustration, here they were, the only two who knew for sure of Cairon’s plot and they were both trapped here. Surely Astor didn’t think he had come here willingly? Whether to look for his sister or not, he would never have left Astoria without first completing his training. Sorry about the village? Ah, yes, everyone had been very sorry, but sorry wasn’t going to bring back the life that Sam had never had. He wanted so much to take the wounded Commander and escape; if he flew he might stand a chance before Cairon found out. He had kept out all ears for news of his sister, but in his heart he knew that she must he dead. She had only been five when they had been captured, and the last he had seen of her was a weeping girl running away into the forest. Alone. Sam slammed his hand down hard against the wall, his elven strength carrying it some way into the rock. His winced and withdrew the hand nursing the bruised knuckles. He wanted to summon up a smile for Astor, a grin. Anything. But Sam didn’t want to, he wanted to get Astor to get up and leave, despite his noble intentions. Cairon hadn’t attacked yet, but Sam was sure he wasn’t going to wait two years, no matter what deal he has struck with Astor. Maybe the Cairon of old would had honoured the bravery of a friend, but the Cairon he knew would have used the opportunity to get rid of an enemy and buy himself some time to build an army. Sam looked down, cheeks burning as Astor first gave him a searching look. A traitor to the Astorian’s? Many people thought so, but as Sam fingered the silver bracelet on his wrist he knew different.

“Cairon might have struck a bargain with you, but I assure you he isn’t the person you remember him to be. He will keep you as long as he sees fit, and then he will kill you. Then he will attack Ariafrost as he planned all along, no matter what time it is. He is building an army out there whilst you are stuck here, and I am no better than you. You’ve got to believe me when I say that I was not brought here willingly. They killed my sister Astor! Don’t you think I want to fight back? But I can’t, Cairon keeps a closer eye on me than any know. But listen, he won’t wait the two years, and Ariafrost will need you if- when he decides to attack.”

Sam swallowed and glanced around, frowning at the young mans suggestion to leave and put the manacles back on. The other guards would not be here before sunrise, and even then they would be too drunk to notice if Sam was there or not. He knew that Cairon would notice Astor was gone as soon as he left, but Sam wasn’t telling him to leave, just to have a reaction to the things that where going on around him. Sam missed those easy days back in Astoria, where winged angels and demons filled the skies, and people could tell what you were thinking before you did. And yet for all that Sam wondered if he would have been content with that life, at least here things had been interesting, if not brutal. Sam wondered absently if Astor would even consider escaping, because as long as he thought he was keeping Ariafrost safe by staying here there was little Sam was going to do to move him. He sighed and turned his gaze upon Astor, even as he spoke the words that brought a grin to his face. He loved the humour of the man, despite his obvious pain and discomfort. It was good to see that he hadn’t broken yet, that he was still holding on to what he held dear. Sam frowned again, wondering if that was his problem. Maybe Astor thought that by doing this he was protecting them from Cairon, and in a way he was. But Sam knew that Ariafrost had to be warned about Cairon’s plans, and only Astor could bring this information to them.

“But Astor, I don’t think you know the extent of Cairon’s plans. I can’t aid anyone, least of all Astoria. I…I belong to Cairon now, he made sure of that. I have nothing to go back to in Astoria, no one to vouch for me, to prove my innocence. If we ever get in battle, I would be forced to attack you. I want to help Astoria and the rest of Ariafrost, but Cairon would come after me. And this time he really would kill me, Astor. Like he planned to do eight years ago. But that’s enough of that. I’m not asking you to escape immediately, just don’t wait two years, I beg of you! Lest you see everything you have ever loved burnt to the ground. I know from experience that it isn’t experience.”

Sam swallowed a looked away, lest Astor see the truth in his eyes, if he didn’t know already. That Sam was the son of the one who held him captive. That was why Cairon held him so close, kept his fate bound of a silver wristband that Cairon could break in an instant. Sam stood briefly slamming his fist into the wall again, making another hole. He regretted it almost instantly, settling back down, cursing under his breath. Why did everything have to be so complicated? If Astor left then Cairon would attack Ariafrost with no warning. If Sam left to warn his homeland then he might be killed when he got there, and Cairon himself might come to finish him off. And then he would attack Ariafrost. No one was going to believe the word of a freak and a traitor. If Astor stayed where he was, Cairon would eventually attack Ariafrost anyway, and they wouldn’t be warned. Sam wanted to let Astor know that he was still loyal to Astoria, but couldn’t put it into words. He had been raised with a foot in two worlds, and no matter what hate he felt for Cairon, in his heart of hearts he knew he could never return to Astoria. Not without avenging the death of his foster-family. How he had come to be, Sam would never know. What little he did know had come from Cairon, and he had said very little about who his mother had been, only that he had been an elf and very beautiful.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re very comfortable here, but it disgusts me that Cairon would treat a friend in such a way, even how mad he is now. Then again, I have seen the way he treats his sons – son - and can only shudder at what he is capable of.”

Sam was going to continue, but just then there was a great slam, and a guard staggered in, clearly too drunk to make any sense of what he was seeing. Sam rose swiftly, and snatching up his spear, not wanting to make the same mistake twice. The last time he had let his guard down around a drunken companion he had been stabbed three times I the chest before the other man had been dragged off him by three of his drinking companions, and they had been in little condition to help a mortally wounded comrade. It was thanks to his elven blood that Sam had lived through that night, how he had found the hospital in the snow he would never know. But here he was, alive and well, and it was another wounded mad that needed his help this time.

“Alright Warren, just back up there and-”

Sam was cut off as the drunken man lunged past him, into Astor’s cell. He kicked out at the Commander, missing because of the amount of drunk he had consumed. Sam caught the man on the shoulder and pushed him back, into the corridor than ran through the cells. The man, clearly completely drunk, drew his sword and swayed comically, until he lunged at Sam, eyes glazed over. He neatly sidestepped the lunge and slammed the point of the spear against the man’s back, not wanting for injure him, despite his intention to maim. Unfortunately drink gives a man strength, and Warren merely grunted and stabbed the sword down into Sam’s left hand. Sam gritted his teeth and slammed the wooden end against the man’s head, knocking him senseless to the ground. Another guard had appeared whilst Sam had been attacking the first, and had proceeded to slam his boot into Astor’s stomach. Sam spun around and attempted to pull that man off the wounded Commander, but this soldier was stronger than he had expected, and simply pushed him away.

“What’s he to you, anyway, Freak? Making friends with the prisoners now are we? Cairon won’t be pleased to hear bout that, might even choose to activate that bangle and be rid of you, like a said from the beginning…”

He slammed the boot down again, making Astor wince slightly with pain. Sam saw red. He lunged forwards, using the strength and unnatural speed of the elves to grab the man and pull him out of the cell. He knew who this man was, Grenald, he Captain that had tried to kill Sam all those years ago under Cairon’s orders. He wasn’t expecting the captain to attack him, the second mistake that he had made that night. Grenald drew his sable and stabbed him lightly in the chest, managing to attack the point where the armour was weakest. Sam frowned, barely feeling anything, before poking Grenald in the ribs with the wooden end of the spear. Grenald cried out as three ribs broke under the power of Sam’s anger, before turning and running, crying out over his shoulder.

“I’ll see your soul taken for this, Arens! You won’t get away with this, and I’ll see to it that the prisoner is contained, or killed. Cairon should have listened to me when I told him that night. ‘If you can’t command someone, kill them’ and this only proves me right. You’ve been trouble since you came Arens. Cairon thought the threat of losing your soul might appease you, but I know different. And as for you, Commander, Cairon is losing patience with you, and this will push him over the edge. Without freak to look after you, you won’t get any rest. Believe me, you don’t know what hell is.”

Sam stood, panting and sweating, blood dripping from his fingers from the deep stab wound in his hand and from the shallow graze on his chest. But the blood flow was already slowing down, another bonus from the elf that ran within him. Healing was sped up ten fold, and although he couldn’t use magic, he might as well have been using a healing spell. He threw the spear to one side, bending over Astor, eyes lighting up the figure on the ground.

“I don’t care any longer. Cairon wasn’t going to leave me alone now anyway, not after last time. Now he will simply make his judgement quicker. But I fear I have made things all the worse you, not that I can see things getting any worse at this point.”

[Kaison of Larris]

Astor took a deep breath allowing his bruised and battered ribs to get used to the sudden bout of freedom, he turned his gaze on Sam, the way he saw it, Astor was weak. He had to fight for what he believed in, but Sam couldn’t possibly imagine the depth of Cairon’s madness, he had seen it, the day he had been forced on his knees in front of his once friend, saw the anger that had driven Cairon to the point of insanity. It had all changed that day, the day Cairon got what he wanted, the man he blamed for the collapse of his world. He had run out of steam for a while, several days at least, he had come here, saw his friend in chains, the bruises from the recent beating colouring his face, and he had been human, he had whipped the guards for doing it and sent a healer to tend to his wounds, that had changed, poor Kaison, unknowingly angering his father…Cairon had stormed down here and demanded to know…everything, I hadn’t said anything, just looked at him, like I always had, in the way that I knew irritated him, why did I do it? In the hope of finding my friend, he had kicked by savagely in the stomach, before storming out in a blind rage, he hadn’t seen me since, and I wonder what he would make of me now. Sighing I listen to Sam’s next words, Cairon wouldn’t break our bargain, not while I still held the information he needs, I frown and give a small sigh, Cairon was like a brother to me, yet what brother does this to his brother? Again I have no answers, I can’t answer, for the simple reason that I can’t bring myself to truly hate Cairon, because I blame myself for Isabella’s death, she had trusted me, Cairon had trusted me, to protect her, I had rushed into the room, in time to defend her son, but to late to save her, it was so…wrong, I should have died that day, not Isabella, it is all my fault, if only she had lived, then I would still be Astoria…

“He will wait, whatever you think, I know him best, always have done, always will do, a curse if you will…You see I…know things, I wasn’t just a Commander, I was a spy to, and I wasn’t bad either, got to know a lot of things, if Cairon knew, if he even guessed…No, he will keep his word, I would give anything to leave here, but I can’t, maybe after the two years are up, if I remain alive, but at the moment, I am more use to my country here, but the information I know, more harm than good, if only I had told someone…but I was worried that if they were caught, and Cairon had asked them…they wouldn’t be strong enough…I had to protect my country, with my dying breath I would, doesn’t look like that is to far away now, if Cairon is even a fraction of the man I knew, he will kill me quickly, but the way things look…I will escape before the end…you have my word, I will not die down here, not if I can help it.”

A haunted look entered my eyes, remembering the days before the battle, when Cairon had sent assassins after me, with the charge of either bring me in alive or ending my life before I could pass on what I knew. I had protected myself with powerful magical barriers, in the end we had run into the vanguard of Cairon’s army before more than about three of them could reach me. I close my eyes and picture the scene, my men exhausted, knowing that we were trapped, looking to me, with hope in their eyes, if anyone could find a way out, I could. I remember the anger that had filled me, the utter hopelessness of the situation, the only thing I could think of was to surrender, if I hadn’t I would have died that day. Better if I had, better to die with a sword in my hand than worn down steadily by torture and hunger. I give a grim smile at the thought that I haven’t even held a sword in six months, let alone used one, grimacing in pain, I stand up gingerly, moving to the pile of straw they call a bed, better than nothing,

“Everything I ever loved has been burnt to the ground, all I have left is Astoria, I lost everything the day Isabella died…but perhaps I say to much, I know you can not leave, I hate Cairon, more than any man alive, you understand? But I also think of him as a friend, still even after all he has done, I refuse to see him for what he is, it is the same with you am I right? Sam Larris? I’ve known all along boy, back when your father was sane he loved you, very much, you mother wanted you to stay with her, near attacked your father when he wanted you to come to the Astorian palace…but he never stopped loving you, even when Kai was born and he married Isabella, he watched you when you weren’t looking, and when you were of age, he sent me to look after you, it is fate that stopped me looking after you, another grievance Cairon has against me, still, not your fault, he was happy when your mother married, never told you he was your father, still he is mad now…”

I give Sam a small smile as I settle back down, the pain monetarily getting past my barriers, I drive it back with a great force of will, and was startled when a guard came stumbling into the room, he aimed a kick at me, not unusual, it missed, the guard was to drunk to even see, let alone attack anyone, thank god. I frown as Sam gives him a sound beating, that was ill done; I am not convinced that Cairon is in the right frame of mind to understand why his son was defending his old friend. I am useless, cursing my uselessness, I am not prepared when another guard enters, slightly more sober, I hiss as he kicks me in the ribs, as if they aren’t damaged enough, but I can take the pain, in fact a beating might show Sam exactly what he has to put up with, if I can take it, then he can sure as d**n it get on with his life, maddening as it is. But Sam to the rescue, idiot boy, doesn’t he know that he is compromising both his life and mine? Neither of us can afford to die here, especially me, what with what I know and everything. I pull myself up, my stomach aches, but I have shielded my mind from the worst of the pain, someday I’m going to have to feel all this, but not today, I just am not strong enough right now.

“That was ill done! Now Cairon has reason to banish you to some far distant frontier, and he has an excuse to show his hand to me before I am ready!”

Despite the fact he had spent the last two years languishing in a cell for the past two years, he was still athletic and lithe, he stepped forwards and bashed the guard on the back of the head, his eyes faded as he lost consciousness, with a small sigh Astor stooped, lifting one eye and checking he really was out, before turning on Sam with something close to exasperation, his eyes flashing slightly, he hadn’t built his barriers strong enough to confront Cairon yet, and now it looked as though he wouldn’t have time, he looked at the guard thoughtfully, wondering if with the vast quantity of drink he had exhumed he would not be able to remember what had occurred, he glanced at Sam’s wound, flesh only, it could have been a lot worse, as far as he was concerned, another kick to the ribs wasn’t going to hurt, well, it did but not enough to cause him serious injury.

“Perhaps he will forget what has happened, perhaps not, nothing we can do about that now, what were you thinking? Patience Sam, patience, I could have easily taken another beating, those guards were about to drop anyway, I doubt they could have harmed me, and know you’ve put both our lives in danger!”

He gave a small smile as he thought back to Sam’s skill with the lance, he was definitely a master, his eyes narrowed as they hit the band, that was a fire band, old magic, so old that it was scarcely magic anymore, he moved forewords, pulled Sam’s hand up and looked loosely at the band, he shot Sam a look of sympathy, he held up his own wrist, where a similar band rested, though his was made with mater magic, less binding, it was more of a deterrence, Astor could remove his, a fire band was trickier, but again, any skilled Empath could remove it, but hadn’t the strength, not yet.

“That can be removed by an Empath, I pity you at least I am not bound to Cairon in any sense other than loyalty, the water band, the one I carry is used to sap the wearers strength…”

Even as he said this his eyes glazed over, shaking his head, he absentmindedly rubbed a sore on his arm, watching Sam intently, how was the boy going to handle the news that is father was Cairon, but he thought suddenly, he must already know, all these years, I think if I was related to Cairon I’d throw myself off a cliff…poor Kaison…Kaison! How was he going to take the news? He had always been devoted to his mother, even if Sam had been born before they had been married, he would still have yet another reason to hate Cairon…

“That means Kaison is your half brother, odd how these things come around…”

[[S]am]

Sam swallowed hard and looked down, half ashamed at his lack of subtlety, but in that close second he really had had enough of Cairon and the cruel game he was playing with him, his son! Sam snorted at Astor’s hint that Cairon might have a chance to do worse to him, before walking over to Warren, dragging him onto a chair. Worse? What more could Cairon possibly do to him? He had torn him from his home and killed him family, and was forcing him to betray him homeland. For Sam there was no worse punishment available. In all these years Cairon had never tried to kill him after that terrible night in his village, Sam supposed he had thought the blood of a whole village would be enough to cool his head. But it had lit a large fire of hatred in Sam’s heart that grew whenever he set eyes upon his father. Oh how he had hated him. Sometimes he had just wanted to end it, sometimes he had thought about taking his own life. But Sam wanted to live even more than anything in the world, even more than going back home. He threw the spear to one side, before touching his chest wound lightly. It had stopped bleeding and hadn’t been serious anyway. The own on his hand was fine, but what really riled him was the remark of the fleeing captain. That guy had always been on his back, ever since Sam had arrived. He could still remember the day he had first come here, all those years ago. He had been ten years old, thrust into an unfamiliar world where everything was strange and new. He had no friends and no one to turn to, Cairon certainly hadn’t been one to lend a hand, and Sam would never have found the pride to ask him anyway. He glanced at Astor, relieved that he at least knew the truth. He winced when he mentioned Kaison that was a difficult subject that Sam didn’t like to even think about. He was sure that the boy knew, or at least guessed who Sam’s father was, and also thought that the boy knew they weren’t full brothers. How could they be, when Cairon treated them both so differently? Sure, he couldn’t stand the sight of Kaison. But he was still the heir to the throne, and was treated like it. All Sam had ever got was a bracelet that bound his soul, and a warning that he could be killed in an instant. Over the years Sam had pushed Cairon as far as he dared, and didn’t think that he would kill him, he would have done so years ago if that was what he had intended. And if Astor spoke the truth then he was too valuable to kill. Sam grinned, a rare occurrence these days.

“Hah! What more could he do to me? Trapped my soul, killed my family and kept me trapped, far away from my homeland for eight years. He won’t care, I’ve done worse these past years, believe me. And as for you, you said you knew something he wanted? Well, if he really needed it, he would have taken it, despite what you say. So I’m guessing he doesn’t need it…yet.”

Sam frowned and closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe that he was talking to Astor as if he were an equal, after all these years Sam had imagined them meeting, but never like this. He saw now that Astor remained here, not as a sign of cowardice, but as a sign of courage and determination that Sam knew was way beyond him. He could barely stand being trapped by Cairon, and he had free run of Eslantia. He blinked his golden eyes briefly, before picking up the spear and setting it gently against the wall, looking at it fondly. Then he saw the bracelet at his lip curled, loathing it beyond simply hatred. Cairon had no right to own him like this; it disgusted him to share blood with such a man, an animal. Sam touched the bracelet lightly, through it he could feel Cairon’s displeasure, but also some kind of acceptance, as if he had known all along that this was going to happen. Sam pulled his hand away as if stung, hating the fact that he had been near that lunatic’s mind. The bracelet worked both ways, Cairon got his soul, but Sam got insights into his mind. Feelings, ideas, motives. Sometimes Cairon meant this to happen, other times Sam did it consciously, despite his hate of the bracelet and the man behind it. Man? Was Cairon still human? How could someone be so cruel and yet still hold onto some kind of sanity? Sam could only guess at the depths of madness that Cairon had fallen into.

“If your heart is set on staying, then I don’t see what I could possibly do to sway you. Cairon is mad, that is certain, and I just wish…that I was home. Buy I have wished that every day since I was dragged here, and it has done nothing. Wishing doesn’t do anything, but acting does. It hurts me to think that he…owns me. Not only me but you too. It is good to see you again, I feared that I had seen the last friendly face I was ever to see eight years ago. This place isn’t so bad, when you get to know it, but I miss the beautiful forests of Astoria. But at least he never saw fit to lock me up, like he has you.”

Sam wished that he could say something to explain his actions with the guards, but could not. Astor would never know the hatred that he felt towards them, for all these years of silent torment, with not one friend to help him out. It had been harder when he had been a boy, forced to fight men who were far superior in strength and speed. He had grown tougher, and that was ultimately why he hated Cairon. He had successfully changed Sam, for better or worse only time would tell. Sam looked Astor over briefly, checking for broken ribs of bones. But the guards had done their job well, no broken bones as far as he could see. Only painful bruises and cuts, nothing that might accidentally kill their prisoner. Sam turned away, lest Astor see the anger in his gaze, his eyes always had been so easy to read. If Cairon hadn’t been able to read his mind like a book, he would only have to look into Sam’s eyes to see the hatred that nestled there. Sam wondered if it ever bothered him that both of his sons now hated him, but then again he was mad. How mad only Astor would ever know. Sam looked back into the Commander’s eyes, knowing that the pain wasn’t just physical. The man had clearly blocked his powers, and Sam frowned to think what pain this ha put him through. It was all so wrong, everything just wasn’t fair. Astor was a good man, and it shamed Sam to think that anyone could do this to such a man. That was half the reason why Sam had reacted to the taunting Warren and the other guard, as well as his own personal problems with both of them. In the years of confinement that Sam had been in, he had grown to hate them all, every last one. And now that he knew Astor was here, things were even worse. He had always pictured Astor to be the one to rescue him, but now Astor said he wouldn’t leave, it looked like he was here to stay, at least for another two years. And then Cairon would surely want to include Sam in the invasion force, and he would be forever tied to the man. But he had never hated Kaison, despite the fact that the prince ignored him like a plague. If the boy had shown one ounce of friendship towards him things might have not been so bad. Throughout his life Sam had been alone, and now things were even worse.

“Kaison? Ah, well…I think that he knows, or at least guesses half the truth. Did you know that Cairon won’t even look at him now? His own son! I mean, I can understand why he would treat me with disgust, just look at me. But Kaison is handsome and clever, and I suppose I look up to him. And envy him, but mostly I’m glad for him. He seems like a nice guy, if only he would look at me. Everyone else can’t look enough, but Kaison has always kept his distance.”

Sam shrugged nonchalantly, absently walking back across the corridor. He glanced around Astor’s cell, noting that it really wasn’t very much. He would go mad if he had been confined here for six days, let alone six months. Then again he had lived through eight years of imprisonment, and it didn’t look as though he was going to be leaving as soon as he had hoped. It cheered him to think that this thing on his wrist could be removed, albeit by a powerful empath. There weren’t any of them in Eslantia, only in Astoria. Perhaps one day he would leave this darned country behind and travel there, and he would finally be free from Cairon. That was if there was still an Astoria to go back to.

[Kaison of Larris]

Astor knew that Sam wasn’t really listening; you could always tell when someone wasn’t paying you full attention. Still he thought bitterly, it wasn’t like he could demand to be listened to; it wasn’t like he had any kind of power anymore. Kaison, ah yes, he was handsome, with his black hair and icy blue glare, he was intelligent to, not overly though, he was marvel with a sword that was true, and his skill at commanding horses far surpassed anything Astor had ever seen. Yet, for everything he had, he had lost double that, he had lost his father, mother and mentor, all because of his fathers ambition, he was more alone than anyone realised. He had been forced into the Eslantian army as sure as Sam had been, he had tried to do something, but by that point Cairon had already gone mad. He knew that Kaison avoided Sam, it was only natural, Kaison had always been perceptive, he would have known from one glance who Sam’s father was, it was clear; he had the same face, the same jaw line. It would have been like a knife to the heart for him, yet, it wasn’t Sam’s fault he had been born Cairon’s son, he was sure Kaison knew that, but couldn’t bring himself to even look at Sam. The knowledge of his fathers’ betrayal would have cut him deep, Sam perhaps portrayed to Kaison what his father might have been like, had the madness not taken over his soul. He knew that soon Sam would have to go, they would both be in enough trouble without Cairon knowing Sam felt compassion towards him. He huffed slightly as Sam suggested if Cairon had wanted the knowledge he would have taken it, what did he think Astor was doing down here? Having a holiday perhaps? Cairon would not kill Sam, he doubted he would even lay a finger on him, he on the other hand was indispensable, as were the poor servants that Cairon was frequently in contact with, Sam had to think about the consequences of his actions, he had probably already killed a maid by his thoughtless actions, he didn’t say anything though, he had a deep respect for Sam, not only because he used a spear with ease but because he had a heart, unlike most of the people down here.

He heard a crash, and looked up in alarm as a blue ball crashed into the cell, the blue ball wrapped himself around Astor, ah, Kaison, he shot Sam a small smile, his green eyes twinkling slightly, he winced as Kaison squeezed his bruised ribs, he touched the boys hair slightly, he hugged him close, glad that he could see him again, Kaison pulled away, looking at his father in all but blood with shock, he evidently hadn’t realised how bad things were down here. Astor managed to stay strong for the boy, even though the band on his arm was already beginning tom siphon off his strength, he thought that whenever Cairon felt run down, he would simply take some of Astor, not realising what a small amount of energy mean to him, he swayed slightly, shook his head and deftly knelt down to look Kaison in the eyes, they were icy blue, and thank god, he took after his mother in everything but appearance, he has the same mouth, he thought longingly, and the same hair, the same jaw and the same heart. He wondered what would happen to Kaison now, his father would soon know what had happened down here, if anyone breathed anywhere in Eslantia, sooner or later Cairon would be told, he sighed and smiled at Kaison, even though it was empty, forced, it meant something to boy who had felt so alone the past six months. Kaison himself could not believe what had happened to Astor, if he guessed even had an inkling of what was going on, he could have done something, he could have at least tried… he gazed at Astor trying to understand what had happened to him, what was wrong, he knew, really, he just didn’t want to comprehend the details of what Cairon had done.

“Astor...what…what have they done to you…this time I mean it, father is mad, honestly, and truly, he doesn’t want me around…I’ve spent the last five months in a barracks, learning how to use a sword the Eslantian way, I’m, not getting anything through my Mediumship either…nothing from across the void, I can’t even get mother’s smell anymore….like I used to, oh Astor, I think...I think it would be best if my father died, right now! He’s sending me into the desert, to fight against bandits, with strange men I don’t know and won’t listen to me, and I’m scared of dying every minute, it’s only thanks to Blade that I’m not dead already, because of father I’m a target for assassins all over the province, he couldn’t advertise me more by painting my hair blue!”

He didn’t cry but he wanted to, Astor could tell, he sighed looking at Sam, Kaison spun around, seeing Sam for the first time, his gaze flashed slightly a deep sadness and anger, that he quelled, and turned to look at Astor his gaze questioning, Astor smiled slightly, it appeared that this ran deeper than any of them could comprehend, Kaison had been through things no child should ever have to go through, his face once childish with a serious gaze, was riddled with cuts and bruises, the Eslantian army was fair but unjust, everyone was treated the same, from the lowest beggar to the crown prince. Blade was a good man in the Eslantian army who Astor had known well, a guard that would guard Kaison with his life, it looked as though he needed it and he wouldn’t want any other to guard the young man, other than himself of course. He glanced at Sam and said with a rueful smile,

“He’s a friend, don’t worry, I wish I could do something Kaison, you no better than anyone why I can’t…wishing your father dead, might make things even more unpleasant for yourself, don’t try it in front of Jeran!”

Astor said, his voice slightly mocking as he spoke the name of the right hand man to the Warlord, he was slime, plain and simple, the man that had been there, six months ago, he glanced at Sam wondering why he hadn’t been there, surely he would have been a full solider then, or had Cairon not trusted him enough to go with them? Astor frowned and wondered if by killing the Warlords wife you got two years being tortured down here, what you get for actually attempting to kill Cairon himself? He didn’t want to know, and quite frankly he pitied the poor wretches that had tried, and failed, or witch were many now that the war had failed, people from everywhere had reason to hate the Warlord, he glanced at Sam and said,

“Well?”

It wasn’t a question it was a statement, he jerked his head at Kaison, who now stood head hanging low, angry at his uselessness, battling with his inner feelings towards Sam and hating his father, it was a terrible thing to admit, that you wished the man who had loved him more than all of Eslantia dead, the man who had taught him the first moves in sword craft, how to talk and ride a horse, everything he had known he had based on what Cairon had first taught him, Astor looked at Sam willing him to talk to Kaison, reassure him in the way only a brother could, as a brother, even a half brother, he would hate Cairon, but perhaps not feel the pain Sam did, I glanced at Kaison’s wrist, I frowned darkly, he held the same band Sam did, Kaison was not stupid he would know what it meant, but he refused to acknowledge it, he didn’t need another reason to hate his father so he didn’t create one.