4
The mindscape wound like an ever evolving puzzle to which Anaiah couldn’t discern a pattern. Every night he’d end up in a different place than the one previous. Sometimes it was a room with bare stone walls and no escape. Other times he’d be left in a void space where he drifted alone for what felt like miles, to find nothing but the looming dark in every direction. It wasn’t all bad, in his opinion. He’d managed to avoid Silver at every turn, though he doubted Silver was unable to find him. There was an itch in the back of his mind that the warlock was aware of his every movement throughout the space. It didn’t matter where he was, Anaiah could feel eyes on his back. This night he ended up back in the main hall, the long stretching carpet that led to the large stone alter underfoot.
The light glaring in through the fiery stained glass windows drenched the room in ruby hue. Anaiah squeezed his eyes shut and settled down on the floor. Perhaps if he wished it, he could escape from this room, from the devilish light and that horrible altar. Anaiah focused on the void he’d fallen in before, holding the image of emptiness in his mind. Unlike in the real world, where he could concentrate and feel the life around him, in here he felt stripped of what little strength he possessed. He could only feel the cold of the mindscape reflected back to him no matter how far his mind reached or from where. He steadied his breathing and continued to focus on the image of the void, his mind grasping at it as though with will power alone he could reach forth and break the barrier that left him in this ugly place.
Anaiah blinked his eyes open to find nothing had changed. He put his face in his hands in an attempt to still the bubbling anger in his belly. A shock ran up his spine as his mind drifted to the alter. The cold stone against his back and Silver’s luminous eyes boring into Anaiah’s soul as they hovered over him. I won’t abuse you though I won’t lie and guarantee this to be painless, either. Silver had said. Anaiah’s bottom lip trembled at the memory of Silver’s voice. His own thoughts resounded through his head as if he were still in that moment, to whatever gods can hear me; I beg you, please let it be over soon. The process had been agonizing, like fire tearing through his veins as the two separate souls were knit. He didn’t know how long he’d shrieked his misery, only that he could recall Silver’s considerable strength restraining him.
He remembered a look in the warlock’s demon eyes that haunted him, half between anguish and contempt. Fire burned in Silver’s gaze, a voracious desire Anaiah sensed like a long starving man with hunger pangs so dreadful they rattled to his pelvis. He’d begun to experience them himself, though they were more confounding than starvation that could be assuaged by food.
“Vexing, isn’t it?” startled by Silver’s voice, Anaiah shot up from the ground, spinning on his heel and meeting eyes with his pseudo-soulmate. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Silver said with calm in his low voice. Silver still reminded Anaiah of a hooded serpent in his long black tunic with the deep hood draped over his bald head, the low ‘V’ shaped neckline cut down to the dark sash round his torso, further embellished the impression. Anaiah shivered at the sight of him. He could wear yards of fabric or heaps of armor and still feel naked and helpless in the presence of the grey-skinned warlock.
“I-I don’t want to talk to you.” Anaiah fumbled.
“Yes, you’ve made that quite clear. However, I had to make a choice, what would be worse; to strand you here in a place that causes you misery, or to tunnel out of the woodwork to offer my assistance. As I see it, you can take my help or you can leave it.” Silver said with no inflection or deviation in the cool expression on his grey face.
Anaiah squirmed; of course Silver knew he wanted his help. But you’re going to make me say it, aren’t you? He thought. A smile cracked that wall of a face across from him and Anaiah knew Silver heard him.
“There’s a fine line between ones actions and ones thoughts. You could want me to do any number of things, but unless you say it then I won’t obey. Even then, there’s no guarantee.” Silver said maintaining his amused smile.
“I wish you’d stop saying that.” Anaiah pouted.
“Wish granted.” Silver affirmed with a thin lipped smile. “Now, do you want out of this place?” Anaiah gave a weak nod, eyes on the floor. “That’s the best I’m going to get from you at the moment.” Silver said. He lifted his clawed hand and the room shuddered. Brick by brick the alter room deconstructed itself as though time were wending backwards, from the vaulted ceiling to the glass windowpanes melting away, taking their fiery light with them while ribbons of the long red carpet spiraled out into the black void.
“And here we are, back in the place I found you.” Silver beamed. Anaiah couldn’t find comfort in the warlock’s unsettling amiable mask. Anaiah kept his eyes latched on the black void under his feet. Silver placed his hand on Anaiah’s shoulder and the younger man spooked, turning away from him. “I’m not going to hurt you, Anaiah. I made it very clear I had no intention of debasing you.”
“I know what you said but please, don’t touch me.” Anaiah squeaked, unable to make himself look at Silver’s face. Silence hung in the air like a cloying cold mist.
“Very well. Perhaps I can offer you something more comfortable than this empty foyer.” Silver offered though Anaiah said nothing. A groan sounded around them and the ground rattled, stones bubbling up as if out of water, replaced the inky nothing neath them. With time thrown forward, new walls bricked themselves together; large wooden doors building up plank by plank. Fire sprang to life as torches on either wall burst into existence next to the doors on either side of another stretching hallway.
The corridor assembled itself like a dorm, each door with a plaque above it. Anaiah’s eyes wandered the hall, surprised at its antiquity. No modern stone-masonry, stones that were uneven in size as if plucked from the earth in whatever shape they came and forced together in a mismatched cobble the architecture reminiscent of ancient castles with wooden fittings rather than iron.
“Th-this is uh…what is this?”
“A corridor.” Silver smiled with his snake-like charm. Anaiah did not return the levity and instead let his eyes wander from plaque to plaque. The names written above the doors were written in a language Anaiah had never seen, though felt some familiarity.
“I don’t understand these name plates.” He said.
“Nor do you have to, you’re quite welcome to look inside the doors, but be warned some of my hosts have been downright nasty. If you thought you were damaged goods, just wait until you peek at some of the others I’ve shared souls with,” Silver replied as he led the way down the hall. Anaiah hadn’t realized it at first but, there were so many doors on either side of the hallway. You’ve had fewer hosts than I would’ve expected. Anaiah thought as he continued to peruse the plaques. “Technically I’ve had more hosts but, I only enshrine the ones here that were particularly useful, even though I didn’t like them very-”
“Stop doing that!” Anaiah shouted, his voice echoing down the hall. “Stop answering my thoughts as though I’m talking to you when I have them! It’s bad enough I’ll never have privacy again, I don’t need you commenting on every last thing in my head!” Anaiah’s back hit the cold stone wall as his breath knocked out of his lungs, a strong arm across his chest.
“I’ve been naught but courteous to you in all this, Anaiah.” Silver’s face twisted into a tight snarl, vertical pupils slitted like a furious dragon. Anaiah froze, staring up into the bigger man’s hood with terror on his face.
“I could have riven you, violated you in such a way as to paralyze your mind, left you in a cage to rot rather than offering you a room in this hall, any number of sadistic cruelties I’ve levied against others. I’ve given you space, I’ve tried to be amiable but make no mistake, my patience has its limits. You think I like having your unsolicited thoughts rattling around in my head?” Anaiah’s legs liquefied and he slid down the wall, half pinned up by Silver’s strength.
“Please I didn’t-” Anaiah rasped.
“And you won’t. You lack the control to hold your own thoughts in your side of our shared misery. Like everything else in your life, someone will have to do it for you.” The seething anger dripping off of Silver’s every word struck Anaiah in the gut like arrows. Silver
released him, Anaiah’s knees buckling as he sank to the floor.
“Give me your mind; I have a ward to fix this intrusion.” Too scared to utter a yes, Anaiah nodded his head, half unable to look into the furious eyes he felt on his shoulders. The enraged warlock grasped Anaiah’s head and before the younger man could call up a single thought his body lit up in pain, his brain splitting as though cleaved with an ax. Anaiah seized Silver’s wrists and arched his back against the white hot agony.
Anaiah didn’t know how long he screamed for or if he’d even managed to kick his feet, but when Silver released him, somehow he’d gotten his legs back under him. Blinded, Anaiah tore down the long hall, hands feeling the corridor until they seized upon a handle. He didn’t know where it would lead or what would happen, but his heart thudded in desperation as he flung the door open and barreled inside as fast as he could manage.
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