Homecoming - (Part 3 of the Ignaius-Saga)

Finding the Pieces

They were travelling in a small group, the king, Variel, four guards and half a dozen of men who were hired to row the boat upstream. Tanier was aware that it was - from a psychological perspective - maybe not a good idea to use the same way to enter the castle that they had been brought in by their kidnappers. Still he had decided to do so, first because it was the far easiest solutions, second, because any other solution would only delay the inevitable. If they started with something difficult, it could only get better. He had expected to feel uncomfortable, as they approached. It didn't help that the dark shadow that they entered was a physical reality that could not be evaded. As the boat was gliding into the channel, he looked at Variel, wondering, if he felt just as uncomfortable - or worse.

The young man was trembling and completely silent, and as they got off the boat, his breathing had picked up. He was trying to focus, to put himself in an investigative mindset. He needed to forget for just a little while that this was the setting of his torment and instead think of it as the scene of a great mystery. It wasn't doing much to help, but he was trying.

About halfway down the tunnel was where the walls became scorched. In fact, it was basically a solid line, as if the fire had just stopped. As the entered the damaged area, Variel did in fact begin to focus more on the appearance of the place and less on what it meant to him. The floor, walls, and ceiling were blackened as they drew nearer to the cell, and charred bones still lay scattered in places, only the sturdiest having not been completely reduced to ash. There were no in-tact skeletons at all.

It was when they reached the cell itself that Variel's body began to really work against him. he whimpered and jerked back, then gritted his teeth in frustration. No! He needed to see! This was the source, the beginning! He needed to see it, to examine it! No one was left that would hurt him, and surely everything in that room that could remind him of his torment was gone.

When Tanier could see that Variel was able to handle this - something that pleased him a lot -, he let him set the pace. He did not intend to give more help than was really needed.

When he had passed through this corridor only two days ago he had barely noticed the signs of destruction. The blackened wall, the scorched bones had barely entered his mind. He looked around curious, like he was seeing the place for the first time. It felt a lot like it really was, as this place had little to do with what he remembered. One noticeable difference was that there was a large number of people they met on their way. Obviously the whole place had been put under guard, no one could move unnoticed. And then there were people inspecting the dungeons or walking past them. Obviously no stone was left unturned.

When Variel paused outside the cell, the kind took the lead, entering the room without hesitation. He recognized the place, yet it was again not the pace he remembered. He stopped close to the door to look around and take everything in. There was a group of five people moving around and taking notes. They were obviously working on a most accurate documentation of the whole place.

Not wishing to be too far from the king, Variel had to force himself to keep going. He'd been given a walking staff to help him, but walking was still extremely difficult. He felt like there was a weight on his chest making it difficult to breathe, but still he refused to fall back and give up. He had to see for himself.

As with the rest of the dungeons, the cell was blackened and littered with ash and bone. However, it was here where things really got strange, and Variel noticed immediately. In almost the exact center of the room where he clearly remembered having spent most of his time on the table, there was a ring of stone on the floor that had not been burnt, though it was dusted with wood ash. Variel looked up to see that the ceiling directly above that ring was also untouched, while the rest of it was scorched. He peered around once more, and his eyes immediately snapped to a similar phenomenon on one of the walls. There was a strip about as wide as the shoulders of a man that ran from floor to ceiling that had not been marred by the flames.