Verita - The Guardian of Darkness

36 - The Darkness Inside

Mold was growing on the walls of the dungeon into which they'd descended and a cool if foul-smelling breeze filled the air. Elanthin had never seen this part of the palace before, like most diplomatic visitors wouldn't have – if they were lucky.

Each of their steps echoed in the high tunnels leading to their destination.

"I don't assume Your Majesty is squeamish when it comes to blood or stinks", said Noryn with his back turned towards them. They were following the vice-commander down into the heart of the dungeons. Although Elanthin had tried her best to remember the way out, she was growing confused with the winding paths and sudden turns. Down here, however, there were no portals to be seen.

Must be a precaution to avoid easy escapes, she guessed silently, before confirming Noryn's assumption.

"He's hurt himself on the way here", continued their guide. His bulky shoulders threw a monstrous shadow onto the cobblestone floor beneath their feet. "Was probably trying to escape the questioning through a quick death."

"As long as he's able to talk, I couldn't care less what he does to himself", said Aetrian with an indifference which struck Elanthin as new. Whenever he'd been talking about his subjects before, she'd seen a warm and caring side of him – but in regard to that criminal, none of his usual kindness had shown so far.

Noryn nodded. "He's certainly able but willing ... well, we'll have to see."

They took another corner before facing a moldy wooden door, strengthened with iron bars. Noryn knocked against it a few times, before he called out a name.

The door opened with a creak and opened up sight onto a servant in a dimly lit room. The rough brick floor was covered with straw and pieces of what looked like broken chains. Elanthin's attention, however, didn't rest on the servant or the room's equipment for even a minute; she was too busy fixating the dark heap in the middle. The shape barely resembled a human but her eyes were used to telling friend from foe in darkness. Sunken in as he was, she could make out a pair of bony shoulders and a curly head of hair.

That's him, she thought, the one who managed to kill me.

Her feet had carried Elanthin into the room before she knew it, past the servant who hadn't said a single word. Maybe he wasn't able to.

"He's a bit out of it", explained Noryn as she reached the heap. It didn't react to their approaching footsteps in any way.

In the dim lighting, the dark mantle made his body melt together with the shadows around them. Still, he didn't look threatening. His built was thin, if not fragile, and his wrists were bound by heavy shackles. Even if this man had been a magician, there was nothing he could do without his hands.

"If you want, we can get him somewhere else to qu–" Aetrian was silenced with one look by Elanthin.

She'd turned around for a moment to muster him with a Really? You're thinking about getting us comfortable cushions right now? look.

"– or not. It's up to you."

That didn't need to be said twice. Leaning forward, Elanthin ripped the hood off the assassin's head to gaze into his face. A man, barely older than twenty but covered from head to foot in burn scars, glared at her. There was also a crusted cut on his neck; most likely from the suicide attempt that Noryn had told them about.

"What happened to his skin? Was he caught in a fire?"

She had asked to gather information, but Aetrian seemed to mistake her intention for pity.

"He's not worth your thoughts. I've seen it a lot. The Grace does this to some of their young recruits to harden their resolve." Aetrian had stepped behind her cautiously. „He will have asked for it himself."

Squatting down in front of the assassin, Elanthin locked eyes with him. He didn't break contact; neither did his expression change. It remained empty, as if he was looking through her.

"What's his name?", she asked into the room.

Noryn answered quickly. "He doesn't have one. As one of the Grace's executive hands, he's thrown away his identity."

No wonder he was ready to face execution for murdering a royal, thought Elanthin. Someone decided enough to burn himself alive wouldn't think twice about risking his life for the cause. She also recognized the issue: someone like him would be difficult to question.

She forced herself to stay expressionless.

"Thank you, Noryn. Aetrian. I think the two of us should have a chat in private now", said Elanthin in a light-hearted manner which didn't convey a bit of her true feelings.

Looking at the assassin, a heat had started to spread through her bones, urging her to swear and shove at him until he conceded to her authority. However, she could guess that such thoughtless actions wouldn't get her more than a tired smile from this stranger.

"I can stay and help. I won't mind what you do."

Aetrian's words carried sincerity but she shook her head regardless. For some reason, she didn't want him to watch her torture someone, no matter how depraved her victim was. Her pride as a ruler had been continuously trampled on since her arrival in Gratia; now she wished to protect the last of it in whichever way possible.

In other words, Aetrian shouldn't see how used she was to doing the dirty work herself.

As she didn't say anything else and kept her gaze fixed on the assassin, Aetrian and his vice-commander eventually left the room to wait outside. Only the silent servant remained but he didn't matter to Elanthin. Someone in his position knew how to keep quiet and look away.

"I don't assume you're going to tell me much without a little help", she said to the scarred stranger in front of her.

Her opener worked as well as expected: There was barely a response. The scrawny man in front of her kept his head lowered, eyes now glued to her toes.

"How that help will look solely depends on your cooperation. You might not believe me but I do have a soft spot for soppy background stories."

His gaze wandered up, slowly gliding over her legs, passing her sheathed swords and rising up to the shoulder on which the arrow had scraped her skin. Suddenly, Elanthin wouldn't have minded one of the bulky court dresses to cover herself with.

"A Veritan offering her help to a Gratian. How kind Her Majesty is, when she has nothing herself."