Chapter Twenty-One: Strength

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(Kaelith's POV)

I was dragged throughout the halls of the villains' base, pain still racking my body. Quite a large number of wizards had been required to take me down, and I recognized someone in that group, one of Kianna's former friends, Hermione Granger. She had delivered the biggest spell that took me down, which felt like that painful spell that hit me when Kianna, me, and a few other people were capturing Shahanda. Except it was enhanced.

We stopped in front of a room, and the door opened. The wizards still dragging me threw me onto a hanging device, you know, that thing where you just hang, and whoever captured you can electrocute you whenever they want. That type of thing.

The door opened, and someone walked in. I recognized him from one of the holograms that Kianna displayed from the war meeting.

"Fintan Pyren, elf, pyrokinetic, leader of the Neverseen," I said, reciting information from the war meeting.

"I see my reputation precedes me," he smiled.

"Not in a good way," I replied.

"So," Fintan said, flipping through a few papers, "Kaelith Craybra, member of the Jedi Order, former Padawan to Jedi Knight Shahanda Souhone, second-best Jedi at mind tricks."

"My reputation precedes me as well, and in a much better fashion," I remarked. "So, how much of that did Shahanda tell you? I figure she told you the "second-best" part. She really did dislike winning a silver medal. Still does."

"Tsk-tsk, you are in no position to ask questions, Miss Craybra," Fintan tsked.

"I assume that's your job," I replied. "Then go ahead. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know."

"Excellent," Fintan said. "I do expect you to answer these honestly and in full. Otherwise, I would have to use this little contraption here, and I'd rather not. It's very... rustic. No flame involved, which is how I prefer things. But my fellow leaders advised internal damage before external, which is reasonable, I suppose." He twirled his electromagnetic staff expertly.

"Well, be forewarned, I might not answer the way you want me to," I warned, knowing I was going to suffer the consequences.

"All right," Fintan said, consulting his papers. "So, one of the quests we're on is to find the location of your base. It would be a lot easier if you gave us the location, however hard it would be to get there."

"I'm Kaelith Craybra, former Padawan of Shahanda Souhone," I replied. Fintan sighed.

"I suppose I expected that," he said, then jabbed his staff into my stomach. Waves of electricity overtook me, and I screamed in pain.

"Try again, and think this time," Fintan said. Despite the pain, I didn't reply with the answer.

"My name is Kaelith Cray—" Before I even finished my answer, I was rewarded with another shock of electricity. I wondered how long it would take for me to give out.

"It would be so much better for all of us if you gave us an answer," Fintan said sweetly. I didn't even answer that time. If looks could kill, mine would. Fintan sighed.

"Perhaps that was a hard one," Fintan said. "Well, another one I have on here asks about your friend Rowan Khanna. Tell me a bit about her, will you?" I took a breath.

"My name is Kae—" Again, another blast of electricity and me screaming until I was almost hoarse.

The same routine happened for an hour or two. I screamed so much that I lost my voice eventually.

"Kaelith," Fintan said, "at some point, everyone gives out. We've been doing this for around an hour and a half. So the question is, when do you give out?" I stared hard at him. For the longest time, I had the deepest insecurities that, if the time came, I wouldn't be able to resist, that I would do anything to stop the pain. That was before Katlize. Before Shahanda, when I believed she was good. Thinking of those memories, I knew the answer.

"Never," I replied hoarsely. "Never. Not because a Jedi is trained to resist these methods of torture, though. It's because I will always be loyal to my friends, and no matter what you say or do, you will never break me." We had a bit of a staring contest until finally, Fintan broke his gaze and sighed.

"I was hoping that we would get to this point, truthfully," he said, bending down and whispering in my ear. "I would put on a good show, using their usual torture methods, and you would naturally resist, and then the others would have no choice but to let me use my favorite method. Honestly, I love it, though I may pretend I don't. Frankly, though, it gets a bit messy, you know, the scalding and all. I think, however, it would be good. And fun." He gripped my right arm, and all of a sudden, his hand erupted with blue fire. My arm was covered with blue fire but wasn't spreading to the rest of my body. I screamed with what was left of my lungs, and my arm was in agony.

"Perhaps I could be convinced to extinguish this fire," Fintan told me. "If you gave me my answers." I could barely concentrate on his words, but I reserved a tiny bit of strength to stop screaming for a millisecond and shake my head slightly. Fintan shook his head in exasperation. "Well, I suppose my fire will keep burning, then." The fire spread to my four limbs and stayed there. As if I wasn't already in agony. I hoped that he knew, though, that I would never give up a single thing. Never.

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