It may have been hours that the three stayed, silent, in the cage.The black gunk had seemingly evaporated, leaving behind cold steel and a metallic scent. The crowd had since dispersed, to find what little solace they could back in their cubbies. Some of the more adventurous ventured along the walls, feeling to see if there was a crack or crevice. Amena ached to be doing the same, although she grudgingly admitted to herself that it was probably futile. The way the cage door fused - that is very high level Magework.
She lay on the cold stone floor. What to do? Something rustled - Amena shifted, as she felt the scratchy fibres of one of the grey blankets being placed over her. She looked up. Andrasthea looked fierce even when caring for others, it seemed - the other girl had beckoned the young boy volunteered by Elias to bring their cubby blankets.
“Thank you, Andrasthea” Amena said, voice hoarse. When did we last have anything to eat or drink? Do our captives plan to starve us to death?
After a slight pause, Amena ventured, “Am I the only one who doesn’t remember how I got here?”
“Ditto,” Andrasthea remarked.
“Elias?”
The boy remained gruffly silent, glaring out of his grey blanket.
“Spill, beast boy,” Andrasthea snarled.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Wouldn’t you like to know?” Elias’ smirk dropped off as Thea lunged towards him, fists balled. As she pulled back to strike, he pitched forward and pinned her to the ground. “Not so fast, sweetheart. A little quick tempered, are we?”
Amena knew steel would completely block off her ability to externalize her natum; the natural force of magic Mages were all gifted with to manipulate natural entities in their surroundings. However, she could still force her natum to Synchronos to another Mage’s natum - a complex skill that took years to refine and perfect. She wondered whether she could harness that skill given her weak physical and mental state. Reaching to her natum, again, she felt a dreadful, hollow sinking crevice; but she dug deeper, forcing its core to Synchronos to Elias.
Agony.
The piercing pain that radiated through her natum was unbearable. Where she lay in the cage, she convulsed, spasmed, doubled over - she retched, emptying the bile in her already empty stomach, soiling the nappy grey blanket. Amena’s mind was a flashing, spinning kaleidoscope - colors and patterns flew through her vision. Her conscience was fading, and her sanity seemed to be losing its grips on her mind...
Andrasthea rushed over to Amena, frantically speaking, “Hold on, let me heal you - my natum is inclined towards healing -” but her words dropped off as a look of horror passed over her face with the realization…. My natum cannot externalize - this is a chamber of steel.
Elias rose to his feet with a smirk. “Synchronus? Serves you right for being so nosy.”
Andrasthea spun around, livid. “What have you done to her?! Stop it!”
A sneer decorating his face, he spoke in a low voice. “You think I would waste an ounce of effort on you two pathetic sciurs? It’s all her own doing. Ask her yourself - oh, no she can’t use her mouth to talk if she’s spewing all over the floor.”
Elias knew he could stop Amena’s torment by retracting her hold on his natum; he, too, had trained extensively in using Synchronus. He couldn’t let her die or go insane - the high leader would be furious - but he had to teach her a lesson.
Amena writhed on the floor; convulsions become less and less violent as her body and mind fatigue. Finally, her consciousness slipped, and she dropped into a puddle of her own vomit.
“AMENA!!” Andrasthea shrieked, and rushed to the girl’s side. She grabbed Amena’s shoulders, and tried to rouse her.
Elias smiled deviously, reached to his core, and unlatched the unconscious girl’s natum. It would be hours before she would wake up. He reached into his trouser pocket, and took out an obsidian dagger. He slowly crept up behind Andrasthea, who was wholly engrossed in her attempts, and in one fluid motion, crashed the hilt into her skull, knocking her out cold.
To the rest of the observers in the room, a tendril of black had crept down from overhead and latched onto the cage, pulling it slowly upwards to be absorbed by the ceiling. The young boy, who narrowly escaped the fate of being inside it, stared upwards at it forlornly as though yearning to be inside. Elias look down at him, smiling menacingly, and offered a cheerful wave.
.............................................
“That,” Ordyzo gestured, “is a fine specimen.”
Jozantor grunted noncommittally.
“You could tame her. It’s been a while since your last tryst. I’d make an exception for you.”
“You are most gracious, High Leader. However, I think she is one of the ninety-nine. Her coloring -”
“Her coloring, yes - but her demeanor, Jozantor?”
“Unfit to be of use to you.”
“Correct.” Ordyzo’s eerie smile belied his true thoughts. “Do you wish to take her?”
Jozantor sauntered through the dimly lit room over to the cubicle in amidst a sea of Ecrans, stopping at the fluid-filled cylindrical chamber. Inside was Amena, bare body, outfitted with tubes and orbs, glowing a light lilac. In the next chamber, similarly outfitted but glowing green, was Andrasthea. Jozantor felt the need to avert his eyes.
“Pity she is so useless to me. Look at the lovely lilac color she evokes - the blood of Lia is so strong in her. Unlike this rampant Arronian atrox.” The cubicles were outfitted with high level magic, used to test the natum and heritage properties of any living being. “Ranks high in internal and external natum capabilities. Very powerful. But so stupid.” Ordyzo paused, deep in thought. “Jozantor.”
“Your command, High Leader.”
“You have two options. Either take her, as my gift to you, and we will keep her imprisoned outside of the Enclos, here. She will be your slave. But if you don’t desire her, then your secondary mission is to acquire her for me.”
“Understood, High Leader.”
“Your choice, Jozantor. What do you choose?” Ordyzo’s voice grew stern.
“Will you allow me some time to consider?”
“We are not playing a game, Jozantor. I can’t have you stalling. Do you understand my urgency, or will you take your sweet time like a dumb brute? Make your decision, you daft atrox - Arronian good for nothing! Your blood of Lia is so weak, you should be grateful I even grace you with my presence let alone allow you the leisure to choose what you want. And yet - the ungrateful imbecile - you ask for more TIME?! That is precisely what we do not have.”
“High Leader, with the greatest reverence - I will acquire her for your army.”
“Good man. I’ll leave it in your hands. Do not disappoint me.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Enter.”
A tall, commanding figure entered the dimly lit space, taking confident strides towards the pair.
“High Leader. I came to see the first catch.” His silver-white hair glinted, reflecting the light from the Ecrans around him. “If I may be granted the honor.”
“Ah, Lero, welcome. You’ll enjoy this.”
The newcomer joined Jozantor at the cylindrical chambers, and peered into the pulsating green glass enclosing Andrasthea. His cold black eyes drank in her form. He took in a sharp breath, and exhaled with a long whistle. “High Leader, I’ve taken a liking to this one. Petite, and feisty - a rough bit of work. She’s expendable anyways. May I entertain myself by recycling our garbage? I do like to bend the stubborn ones to my will, it’s rather satisfying.” Lero’s slim face was adorned with a demonic grin.
“I didn’t know blood of Lia could take a liking to Arronian atrox,” Ordozyo seethed condescendingly. “Take her.”
“Thank you, most gracious High Leader. I will make good use of your gift. Does she have to live?”
“No.”
Jozantor could not understand why, at that moment, he felt an inexplicable sense of immense, overwhelming dread.
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