She explained the aim of the interrogation, which brought more questions to Lucian. Why would members of this institution be troubled or upset by the fact that their captain brought in a prisoner? That would be a subject for pondering.
It was in the middle of her caution about the posturing people in this place that he noticed something different. Something, as she was speaking and he was comprehending, was a little different. Not in her mouth- she shaped the words as before, but...
The throat. It was not moving, contracting, flowing with her conversation. What did that mean?
She wasn't using her voice.
Meaning?
She knows.
Lucian experienced a strange sensation at that point, somewhere between suspicion and interest. No one, in quite some time, had known. Not since he left the gypsy had anyone known. It was not that he tried to protect it- but when people didn't think you could hear them, sometimes they tried things or they were foolish in trying to speak with you, over emphasizing and ever raising their voice.
He nodded to her caution, and then, when it was finished, he nodded again to her question.
"Her bark is much the same as her bite." Lucian grinned a little. "Loud, demanding, and short-lived."
A brief pause. Then-
"How long have you known...?" and he gestured toward his ears.
The Moral Equation
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Lanya Caliope
- Fugitive
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Thu Jun 16, 2005 12:49 am
- Race: Human
Lanya nodded at his quip. That woman had more temper than thought to her, and Lanya wasn't surprised to know that she was all about show. Still, she wouldn't soon forget the image of her standing above while she brought Lucian screaming to his knees...
Her face softened further as she realized she'd surprised him be learning the truth. She was a good-natured person who trusted easily, despite all that had happened to her - it was this trusting nature which had led her here, in the end. But it never occurred to her that perhaps she should be a bit less trusting of those she met along her way.
Complete strangers she could be cautious about; once someone introduced themself, she felt more at-ease in their presence.
"Since after Flame...the bird became real. Right before the tree..."
She took a deep breath to steady herself. Nothing could ever be easy, could it? Somewhere out in the woods, an old tree smoldered and a horse lay dead beside it.
"The bird sang, and I saw that you didn't hear it - didn't realize he was singing until you saw the beak...that's when I knew."
She smiled a bit then, remembering briefly her joy at that moment, before the tree had died so horribly. She wondered where Flame was at this moment. Did he fly free among the trees, back in the clearing? Would she ever see him again?
"I'm so sorry you're here, Lucian."
Her exhaustion made her eyes close as she shifted again, settled against the wall and prepared herself for something like a night's sleep.
"So, so sorry."
Her face softened further as she realized she'd surprised him be learning the truth. She was a good-natured person who trusted easily, despite all that had happened to her - it was this trusting nature which had led her here, in the end. But it never occurred to her that perhaps she should be a bit less trusting of those she met along her way.
Complete strangers she could be cautious about; once someone introduced themself, she felt more at-ease in their presence.
"Since after Flame...the bird became real. Right before the tree..."
She took a deep breath to steady herself. Nothing could ever be easy, could it? Somewhere out in the woods, an old tree smoldered and a horse lay dead beside it.
"The bird sang, and I saw that you didn't hear it - didn't realize he was singing until you saw the beak...that's when I knew."
She smiled a bit then, remembering briefly her joy at that moment, before the tree had died so horribly. She wondered where Flame was at this moment. Did he fly free among the trees, back in the clearing? Would she ever see him again?
"I'm so sorry you're here, Lucian."
Her exhaustion made her eyes close as she shifted again, settled against the wall and prepared herself for something like a night's sleep.
"So, so sorry."
Ah. That made sense. He nodded as she explained, in order to convey his acceptance and lack of concern or anger. There was a time when he might have been angry that someone knew. But not now, and not her.
As she settled back against the wall, resignation just seeped from her. The sadness and unrestrained hopelessness were palpable to Lucian, and it made the lines around his eyes tighten. Being one who in his life time was exceptionally guarded about his emotion, seeing another display it so vividly was disconcerting.
"So, so sorry."
For a moment, there was silence. If Lanya's eyes had been open, she might have seen the expression spreading across his face like he had been slapped. She might have seen the tension make itself visible in his body. Something inside of Lucian flared to life, like an uncoiling dragon, and he spoke in a low, iron-clad voice.
"Don't- do that."
He inched closer to the bars, making sure his line of sight to her eyes was unobscured by the bars from either cell, so she could see his eyes and feel the unflinching burn of his gaze.
"I did what I did on purpose. I am where I am because of my choice- not yours."
His muted indignation made his voice tremble. Lucian had lived almost his entire life without sound, and much of it without companions of any kind. He was a lost gypsy with a crippled arm. He was not strong, he was not powerful.
But more than any of that, he was not sorry. He asked for nothing. Not even from the gods that carried off his mother and did not help him when he was starving in the wilderness or when he was wounded and could not stand.
Lucian had nothing but his own will and choices.
He paused, letting his words hang in the air.
"Don't you dare... try to take that from me."
As she settled back against the wall, resignation just seeped from her. The sadness and unrestrained hopelessness were palpable to Lucian, and it made the lines around his eyes tighten. Being one who in his life time was exceptionally guarded about his emotion, seeing another display it so vividly was disconcerting.
"So, so sorry."
For a moment, there was silence. If Lanya's eyes had been open, she might have seen the expression spreading across his face like he had been slapped. She might have seen the tension make itself visible in his body. Something inside of Lucian flared to life, like an uncoiling dragon, and he spoke in a low, iron-clad voice.
"Don't- do that."
He inched closer to the bars, making sure his line of sight to her eyes was unobscured by the bars from either cell, so she could see his eyes and feel the unflinching burn of his gaze.
"I did what I did on purpose. I am where I am because of my choice- not yours."
His muted indignation made his voice tremble. Lucian had lived almost his entire life without sound, and much of it without companions of any kind. He was a lost gypsy with a crippled arm. He was not strong, he was not powerful.
But more than any of that, he was not sorry. He asked for nothing. Not even from the gods that carried off his mother and did not help him when he was starving in the wilderness or when he was wounded and could not stand.
Lucian had nothing but his own will and choices.
He paused, letting his words hang in the air.
"Don't you dare... try to take that from me."
Yar, says I.
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Lanya Caliope
- Fugitive
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Thu Jun 16, 2005 12:49 am
- Race: Human
The sudden snap in his voice brought her eyelids up once more, and her tension gave way to bafflement. She could not understand his position or his vehemence. To her, a choice was simply something else to take away from her.
But she remained still, weariness making her body heavier with each second. She could not expend the effort to ask why he was upset; she would simply accept it without forcing him to justify his indignation. At this moment, behind these bars...it wasn't worth it.
"Ah, choice...I hardly remember what that's like."
She smiled a bit to indicate the joke, but it was clear that she believed every syllable. She wore defeat and resignment like a many-colored cloak, but would not insult Lucian by suggesting that he resign himself as well. It was not his way to give up, and it was not her way to push a school of thought upon another.
"Goodnight, Lucian. I hope you find peace."
It was an odd expression her own mother had used. Lanya had never meant it so fervently. Her eyes slid shut at the bittersweet thought - and moments later, she rested.
But she remained still, weariness making her body heavier with each second. She could not expend the effort to ask why he was upset; she would simply accept it without forcing him to justify his indignation. At this moment, behind these bars...it wasn't worth it.
"Ah, choice...I hardly remember what that's like."
She smiled a bit to indicate the joke, but it was clear that she believed every syllable. She wore defeat and resignment like a many-colored cloak, but would not insult Lucian by suggesting that he resign himself as well. It was not his way to give up, and it was not her way to push a school of thought upon another.
"Goodnight, Lucian. I hope you find peace."
It was an odd expression her own mother had used. Lanya had never meant it so fervently. Her eyes slid shut at the bittersweet thought - and moments later, she rested.
She fell asleep then, too weary to say anything contradictory or even expound. Not that he needed her to. She understood at least, he thought, that she could not take what was his. His choice to help. To run. To fight. It was all he had, and no one could take it from him. When the time came to die, he would chose to die. It was not to be feared anymore than life.
"Peace belongs to the fearless." He spoke quietly, loud enough that she would have been able to hear, had she been awake. Even if he could not hear his own voice, he knew it breathed a reality into this dungeon, as something spoken in certainty has the power to do.
At that moment, he knew he would have to show her. He would have to open her eyes to the fact that choice did belong to her. That her life was in her hands. That no one, no matter their power, could rule her if she chose.
And the only way that was going to happen was if they got out of here.
So he settled back into his meditative state, and began visualizing scenarios and possibilities with clarity that he was unaccustomed to.
He enjoyed it.
"Peace belongs to the fearless." He spoke quietly, loud enough that she would have been able to hear, had she been awake. Even if he could not hear his own voice, he knew it breathed a reality into this dungeon, as something spoken in certainty has the power to do.
At that moment, he knew he would have to show her. He would have to open her eyes to the fact that choice did belong to her. That her life was in her hands. That no one, no matter their power, could rule her if she chose.
And the only way that was going to happen was if they got out of here.
So he settled back into his meditative state, and began visualizing scenarios and possibilities with clarity that he was unaccustomed to.
He enjoyed it.
Yar, says I.
Many hours passed before Moryldar returned to the cells. His shuffling footsteps and the oversized shadow cast by his robes against the glossy white walls preceded his pot-bellied figure. Behind him a pair of orderlies followed, young, flawless boys wearing white robes and vacant expressions. Both of them were blonde and possessed a hint of elven features. Neither could have been older than 17.
He knew about Lucian's captivity from the porter and was not surprised to see someone accompanying Lanya. Ryxa managed to dodge the Judge's attempts to find her and get a detailed account of the situation surrounding these two prisoners. As a result he knew very little about them and was not about to ask Camulous. He was not displeased with Ryxa for this. She did her job and had her own ambitions. That was something he understood.
Moryldar ignored Lucian and walked to Lanya's cell, slapping the bars on the door with one hand so they rattled her awake.
"Rise and shine my dear. You have a session with the scryers."
He knew about Lucian's captivity from the porter and was not surprised to see someone accompanying Lanya. Ryxa managed to dodge the Judge's attempts to find her and get a detailed account of the situation surrounding these two prisoners. As a result he knew very little about them and was not about to ask Camulous. He was not displeased with Ryxa for this. She did her job and had her own ambitions. That was something he understood.
Moryldar ignored Lucian and walked to Lanya's cell, slapping the bars on the door with one hand so they rattled her awake.
"Rise and shine my dear. You have a session with the scryers."
Let the tomes be your guide.
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Lanya Caliope
- Fugitive
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Thu Jun 16, 2005 12:49 am
- Race: Human
Sometime in the night, Lanya had awakened to the tinkling sound of a glass of water placed just outside of her bars. She had maneuvered herself with difficulty to the bars to grab the water, and although the drink served to increase her hunger, she could feel the liquid spreading along her stomach and being absorbed into her body.
It wasn't much, but it was enough to ease the strain in her throat and the headache she'd chosen to ignore.
Leaving the glass where she'd found it, she'd pulled herself back to the furthest wall away from the bars and settled herself for further rest. It couldn't be true rest in this cold, hardened place, but sleep was sleep, and her body was finally able to just stay still for a while. It had been less than a minute before she fell back to sleep.
Hours later, the loud rattle of her cell's bars jerked her to full alert, and she found herself staring at the elder from before, flanked by two young boys who didn't seem to fully process their surroundings. She remained silent as she stared for a few moments, confused. She still did not quite fear this man, as she was unsure of his abilities - but she at least wanted to know what was happening.
"I...I don't understand."
She tried the same tactic that she'd used on the fiery woman earlier, dumbing her expression until she seemed to strain to think. This man liked to see his victims intimidated and afraid; perhaps if she appeared not to understand her own danger, he would explain.
It wasn't very hard. In many ways, she didn't understand her own danger at all.
It wasn't much, but it was enough to ease the strain in her throat and the headache she'd chosen to ignore.
Leaving the glass where she'd found it, she'd pulled herself back to the furthest wall away from the bars and settled herself for further rest. It couldn't be true rest in this cold, hardened place, but sleep was sleep, and her body was finally able to just stay still for a while. It had been less than a minute before she fell back to sleep.
Hours later, the loud rattle of her cell's bars jerked her to full alert, and she found herself staring at the elder from before, flanked by two young boys who didn't seem to fully process their surroundings. She remained silent as she stared for a few moments, confused. She still did not quite fear this man, as she was unsure of his abilities - but she at least wanted to know what was happening.
"I...I don't understand."
She tried the same tactic that she'd used on the fiery woman earlier, dumbing her expression until she seemed to strain to think. This man liked to see his victims intimidated and afraid; perhaps if she appeared not to understand her own danger, he would explain.
It wasn't very hard. In many ways, she didn't understand her own danger at all.
Lucian, deep within his own awareness, had nonetheless been almost instantly aware of the new presence as it arrived at the bottom of the stairs. But he remained motionless, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his cell, his head slightly bowed and arms laying across his knees.
It was very subtle that he opened his eyes a slit to see out, but without the fluttering or telling-twitches that accompany attempting to only hold the eyelids slightly open. He had control over his body, and they were perfectly still. As a result, it would have been very difficult to tell his eyes were open at all, as the slit was slight and there was no sign otherwise.
He had no idea who the robed man was, but the attendants implied he was of some authority. He was facing Lanya, and she was looking up at him, putting on that confused face again.
Lucian held very still and observed.
It was very subtle that he opened his eyes a slit to see out, but without the fluttering or telling-twitches that accompany attempting to only hold the eyelids slightly open. He had control over his body, and they were perfectly still. As a result, it would have been very difficult to tell his eyes were open at all, as the slit was slight and there was no sign otherwise.
He had no idea who the robed man was, but the attendants implied he was of some authority. He was facing Lanya, and she was looking up at him, putting on that confused face again.
Lucian held very still and observed.
Yar, says I.
"You will understand perfectly soon enough."
Moryldar stood before her cage and waited there. The two orderlies also waited, eyes lowered, apparently enamored with the man's plain brown shoes that poked out from beneath his black robe.
As if to pass the time, he looked over at Lucian and studied the man. As much to himself as to the orderlies who had no authority to even give input regarding his opinions he said "He should be with the guard, not here." Neither of the boys looked as if they heard him.
Armored footsteps resonated down the stairs leading to the cell block, followed by the strange, white metal clad and red gloved figure of a battlemage. The man had a hard face. He'd seen death enough times.
"Finally." Said the judge to the battlemage, then to the orderlies. "Get her out."
On his cue one of the boys withdrew a set of keys and unlocked Lanya's cell. He pulled the door open while Moryldar shuffled out of the way and the other boy entered her cell. The battlemage watched with waning interest. He didn't expect anything to happen.
"Come." To Lanya. "It's time to find out what kind of a witch you are."
Moryldar stood before her cage and waited there. The two orderlies also waited, eyes lowered, apparently enamored with the man's plain brown shoes that poked out from beneath his black robe.
As if to pass the time, he looked over at Lucian and studied the man. As much to himself as to the orderlies who had no authority to even give input regarding his opinions he said "He should be with the guard, not here." Neither of the boys looked as if they heard him.
Armored footsteps resonated down the stairs leading to the cell block, followed by the strange, white metal clad and red gloved figure of a battlemage. The man had a hard face. He'd seen death enough times.
"Finally." Said the judge to the battlemage, then to the orderlies. "Get her out."
On his cue one of the boys withdrew a set of keys and unlocked Lanya's cell. He pulled the door open while Moryldar shuffled out of the way and the other boy entered her cell. The battlemage watched with waning interest. He didn't expect anything to happen.
"Come." To Lanya. "It's time to find out what kind of a witch you are."
Let the tomes be your guide.
-
Lanya Caliope
- Fugitive
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Thu Jun 16, 2005 12:49 am
- Race: Human
Her instinct was the shy away from these men as they approached - but there was no where to go. She would only press back into the wall and look like a fool.
But...wasn't that the point?
Lanya braced her arms against the ground and flattened herself into the wall behind her, the image of a foolish prisoner who seemed to believe that sheer force of will would stop them from taking her outside the cell. Her eyes were wide and blank, though for the first time in days no tears were within. Those only came when she didn't want to cry. At the moment, she was focusing on acting the idiot.
"No!"
When the boy was within reach, she flailed an arm out in a weak attempt to slap his hands away.
"Get away from me!"
But...wasn't that the point?
Lanya braced her arms against the ground and flattened herself into the wall behind her, the image of a foolish prisoner who seemed to believe that sheer force of will would stop them from taking her outside the cell. Her eyes were wide and blank, though for the first time in days no tears were within. Those only came when she didn't want to cry. At the moment, she was focusing on acting the idiot.
"No!"
When the boy was within reach, she flailed an arm out in a weak attempt to slap his hands away.
"Get away from me!"
They were taking Lanya away.
Where? What for? What was the penalty for being a magic-user? If the crime was serious enough to send a Captain of the Guard and a mage after her, well beyond the limits of the city, the punishment must be exceptionally grave. Indecision held Lucian immobile for a full breath, the possibilities and potentials- and more, the consequences of those- welling up inside of him. Perhaps they were taking her in for questioning. Perhaps just to examine her.
Perhaps to execute her.
The two boys did not seem, to Lucian, to be of very much threat. Therefore his concerns were wholly with the elderly man and the newcomer, who wore red gloves like those of Ryxa, and who looked like a killer.
The last one in particular. His eyes were impenetrable and cold. While Lucian guessed that, with enough focus, he might be able to see deeper, he had no need and less desire. The nature of this one was clear enough without seeing into his soul.
Lucian could fit his arm through the bars, that much he could see. But none of them were close enough for him to do anything. It would have been best if he could have fit is leg through, thus allowing him to target their knees, but he doubted his own knee could make it through the gap in the iron bars.
Still. He needed to do something.
So abruptly and without sound, he stood up and spoke in his rasping voice, "Where are you taking her?"
It was not desperate sounding, or even very loud. It was his calm, level kind of inquiry that gave away very little emotion, and he kept his face blank.
Where? What for? What was the penalty for being a magic-user? If the crime was serious enough to send a Captain of the Guard and a mage after her, well beyond the limits of the city, the punishment must be exceptionally grave. Indecision held Lucian immobile for a full breath, the possibilities and potentials- and more, the consequences of those- welling up inside of him. Perhaps they were taking her in for questioning. Perhaps just to examine her.
Perhaps to execute her.
The two boys did not seem, to Lucian, to be of very much threat. Therefore his concerns were wholly with the elderly man and the newcomer, who wore red gloves like those of Ryxa, and who looked like a killer.
The last one in particular. His eyes were impenetrable and cold. While Lucian guessed that, with enough focus, he might be able to see deeper, he had no need and less desire. The nature of this one was clear enough without seeing into his soul.
Lucian could fit his arm through the bars, that much he could see. But none of them were close enough for him to do anything. It would have been best if he could have fit is leg through, thus allowing him to target their knees, but he doubted his own knee could make it through the gap in the iron bars.
Still. He needed to do something.
So abruptly and without sound, he stood up and spoke in his rasping voice, "Where are you taking her?"
It was not desperate sounding, or even very loud. It was his calm, level kind of inquiry that gave away very little emotion, and he kept his face blank.
Yar, says I.
The boy shied away from her voice and pulled his hand back the instant she protested. He did not look as though he was capable of forcing her on his own, which was the truth. Together, the pair of orderlies could wrestle her down. Certainly so in her condition, but this was not what they were for.
The boy looked over at Moryldar, searching the old man's face for instructions. He needed permission to use his powers. Without approval from a Judge he could end up in Lanya's position. Moryldar nodded. "Convince her."
Ice blue eyes, mundane and unremarkable seconds ago, turned their gaze back onto Lanya. The eyes were bottomless; pupils dilated until only a hair's width of color surrounded them. They drew her in, teasing her consciousness away from her body, beckoning her to watch until she could see nothing but the glistening blackness of those pupils.
The boy urged her to give in and stop protesting without ever speaking a word out loud. He reached into her and teased out the mental source of her resistance, enticed it to surrender, if only for a little while. If only for a little while she could stop resisting, everything would be alright. The boy didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to help her. Nobody wanted to hurt her. They just wanted her to go with them.
Every inch of ground her willpower gave in to the boy was rewarded with a detachment from the physical pain her body was feeding her. The more she gave in, the less it hurt.
The battlemage eyed the boy from his place near the entrance. He couldn't see much from where he was, but he knew what was going on. The boy frightened him more than any monster.
Moryldar appeared much less interested. It was all tedium to the old man.
"Where are you taking her?"
"To her trial." He said and glanced over at Lucian.
The boy looked over at Moryldar, searching the old man's face for instructions. He needed permission to use his powers. Without approval from a Judge he could end up in Lanya's position. Moryldar nodded. "Convince her."
Ice blue eyes, mundane and unremarkable seconds ago, turned their gaze back onto Lanya. The eyes were bottomless; pupils dilated until only a hair's width of color surrounded them. They drew her in, teasing her consciousness away from her body, beckoning her to watch until she could see nothing but the glistening blackness of those pupils.
The boy urged her to give in and stop protesting without ever speaking a word out loud. He reached into her and teased out the mental source of her resistance, enticed it to surrender, if only for a little while. If only for a little while she could stop resisting, everything would be alright. The boy didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to help her. Nobody wanted to hurt her. They just wanted her to go with them.
Every inch of ground her willpower gave in to the boy was rewarded with a detachment from the physical pain her body was feeding her. The more she gave in, the less it hurt.
The battlemage eyed the boy from his place near the entrance. He couldn't see much from where he was, but he knew what was going on. The boy frightened him more than any monster.
Moryldar appeared much less interested. It was all tedium to the old man.
"Where are you taking her?"
"To her trial." He said and glanced over at Lucian.
Let the tomes be your guide.
-
Lanya Caliope
- Fugitive
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Thu Jun 16, 2005 12:49 am
- Race: Human
Lanya watched the boy shy away, then turn to the elder for a moment. The elder's words confused her, and as the boy turned back to her, she spoke.
"What does that..."
As the boy's eyes rounded and fixed on hers, the questions died on her lips. His pupils were holes, and under normal circumstances would have terrified her. But now...wasn't this boy looking out for her best interest?
The idiot's gaze she'd placed upon her face melted away into trust. This boy, these men, they were here to help her, weren't they? She couldn't remember why she'd been afraid, why she'd wanted to resist. If only she were to stand up and follow, everything would be all right.
A bandaged hand braced against the floor as she pushed herself up, and where a tense aching had once existed there was nothing. She couldn't help but feel grateful to this boy. Hadn't he taken the pain away because he was trying to help?
With effort, she stood up on her own, but as she winced from the pain in her knee thoughts broke through the daze. The boy was lying; this elder didn't care a whit for her safety. Where had the thought come from? How had she managed to stand with shots of agony lacing her thigh? She didn't have enough time to realize what had happened; still in a daze of sorts, she looked at the boy again and felt the freedom from pain and terror calm her nerves.
They were only here to help, after all.
"What does that..."
As the boy's eyes rounded and fixed on hers, the questions died on her lips. His pupils were holes, and under normal circumstances would have terrified her. But now...wasn't this boy looking out for her best interest?
The idiot's gaze she'd placed upon her face melted away into trust. This boy, these men, they were here to help her, weren't they? She couldn't remember why she'd been afraid, why she'd wanted to resist. If only she were to stand up and follow, everything would be all right.
A bandaged hand braced against the floor as she pushed herself up, and where a tense aching had once existed there was nothing. She couldn't help but feel grateful to this boy. Hadn't he taken the pain away because he was trying to help?
With effort, she stood up on her own, but as she winced from the pain in her knee thoughts broke through the daze. The boy was lying; this elder didn't care a whit for her safety. Where had the thought come from? How had she managed to stand with shots of agony lacing her thigh? She didn't have enough time to realize what had happened; still in a daze of sorts, she looked at the boy again and felt the freedom from pain and terror calm her nerves.
They were only here to help, after all.
And after the trial? Would they kill her if they ruled she was a witch?
Lucian sensed the shift. The inky, chill sensation across the surface of his skin as astral magic flowed through the room in a new measure of intensity. However, he saw no immediate manifestation-
And suddenly Lanya wasn't fighting them anymore. She was standing up and moving, cooperating with them. Lucian, maintaining his composure, looked at her eyes and saw that they were unclear, conflicted- glossed over so that he could not see into her soul. She was being controlled, it dawned on him. That was the abominable magic he felt.
What creatures were these men, to practice such profane arts?
They were still too far from his cell for him to be able to do anything. And yet, maddeningly, he had to do something.
"What will happen when you find her innocent?"
It was an intentionally worded question, one that he hoped to stall with as well as possibly provoke their annoyance. If these people were anything like Ryxa, he might be able to get one to come too close to his cell.
Lucian sensed the shift. The inky, chill sensation across the surface of his skin as astral magic flowed through the room in a new measure of intensity. However, he saw no immediate manifestation-
And suddenly Lanya wasn't fighting them anymore. She was standing up and moving, cooperating with them. Lucian, maintaining his composure, looked at her eyes and saw that they were unclear, conflicted- glossed over so that he could not see into her soul. She was being controlled, it dawned on him. That was the abominable magic he felt.
What creatures were these men, to practice such profane arts?
They were still too far from his cell for him to be able to do anything. And yet, maddeningly, he had to do something.
"What will happen when you find her innocent?"
It was an intentionally worded question, one that he hoped to stall with as well as possibly provoke their annoyance. If these people were anything like Ryxa, he might be able to get one to come too close to his cell.
Yar, says I.
The boy, looking genuinely concerned for Lanya's wellbeing, quickly moved to help her out of the cell. He kept watching her with those dilated pupils. His real behavior mirrored what he was making her believe. He wasn't going to hurt her, he wanted to help her, and they were going to take her away so she wouldn't have to stay rotting in a cell forever.
Moyldar moved out of their way and the other boy, one with darker hair who looked a few years older, perhaps in his early twenties, stayed clear of them as well. The battlemage, arms folded, refused to risk making eye contact and studied whatever else he could see in the cell block.
"IF she were to be found innocent." The judge corrected without answering the question. It was a very unlikely if.
His plan was to have her found guilty one way or another. Once that was done with, he could interrogate her much more thoroughly and find out absolutely everything she know of Kamar and her alleged crimes before killing her, thus severing the assassin's bonds with his former employer.
Old, glassy eyes shifted over Lucian again. Moryldar still didn't know anything about him or why Ryxa had brought him here. There was a connection between them that was more than a few hours in the cells could account for. He knew her. Without a report from Ryxa or any formal charges, he couldn't know more without interrogation.
"Bring this one too."
The second orderly, eyes still lowered and daring not to glance up at the Judge, moved to unlock Lucian's cell. The battlemage started paying attention again.
Moyldar moved out of their way and the other boy, one with darker hair who looked a few years older, perhaps in his early twenties, stayed clear of them as well. The battlemage, arms folded, refused to risk making eye contact and studied whatever else he could see in the cell block.
"IF she were to be found innocent." The judge corrected without answering the question. It was a very unlikely if.
His plan was to have her found guilty one way or another. Once that was done with, he could interrogate her much more thoroughly and find out absolutely everything she know of Kamar and her alleged crimes before killing her, thus severing the assassin's bonds with his former employer.
Old, glassy eyes shifted over Lucian again. Moryldar still didn't know anything about him or why Ryxa had brought him here. There was a connection between them that was more than a few hours in the cells could account for. He knew her. Without a report from Ryxa or any formal charges, he couldn't know more without interrogation.
"Bring this one too."
The second orderly, eyes still lowered and daring not to glance up at the Judge, moved to unlock Lucian's cell. The battlemage started paying attention again.
Let the tomes be your guide.