Arwick (A Light Of Roria Sequel)

Chapter Nine

"Elijah!" Jake cried while two guards dragged Elijah back toward the cell we'd been thrown in since we got here.

Standing, I took in Elijah's awful state. His back was slouched, and he struggled to stay on his feet with his head moving back and forth like one of those plastic bobbleheads.

The guards tossed him in our cell, and Jake rushed to catch Elijah's weight before he could hit the ground. Leading him toward the stone wall, Jake used it as leverage, helping Elijah down.

"When you were gone a while, we...," Jake started out. He was bent down beside Elijah and ran a hand through his own hair. "Well, we weren't sure if something happened."

Elijah kept his eyes shut, groaning every time he coughed to spit up a little more blood. I placed a hand on his shoulder. "What did they do to you?" I could hear the anger and fear in my own voice. It was worse than I was letting on. It was this place. It was these people. I was on the verge of screaming, and if I could have used divinity, I would have fought tooth and nail to get us all out. But of course I was about as close to using divinity as I was to freedom.

Elijah finally looked to me, trying to catch his breath enough to speak. "They...waited before...giving me the...antidote." He paused, closing his eyes tightly before opening them again as if trying to rebuild his concentration. "I was losing consciousness when they...they began to beat me, stating it was a reminder of who...who was in control."

My mouth fell open in shock, and I closed my eyes. "They're sick," I said angrily.

"That's putting it mildly," Jake replied.

Elijah leaned his head against the wall before closing his eyes. After a few slow deep exhales, he finally looked around. "Where is John?" he asked.

Jake looked to the ground, almost not wanting to be the one to say it. "In that cell over there." He pointed to John, who lay on the ground, appearing almost lifeless. If it hadn't been for his chest rising and falling, I would have assumed he was dead.

Elijah's mouth dropped. Despite how terrible he looked and clearly felt, seeing John had him forgetting his own pain and misery.

"What have they...done to him?" he asked, his words still somewhat shaky.

"He was whipped and beaten after they took Addisyn," Jake answered. I could hear the pain in his voice before he covered his face with his hands. We were all reaching our emotional limits.

"What of...Aasim?" Elijah asked, sounding a little tense, as if worried about our response.

"He's fine, I think," I replied before pointing toward Aasim's cell. "Just a little restless and worried about Addisyn."

"We all are," Jake admitted.

I nodded before facing the ceiling. My hands went through my greasy hair, and I gagged. I knew, even then, it should have been the least of my worries, but I couldn't get over how disgustingly dirty I felt.

Just then, the same guard who had thrown broken pieces of bread into each cell earlier began to walk past our cages again. He had that same wicked grin watching the other cellmates fight over their food.

"Get it for Elijah," I said to Jake without a second thought.

The two of us had decided earlier with each time he passed, we'd alternate who ate since the small piece was no larger than my fist. It wasn't going to do us much good in the long run. I knew my stomach would continue to feel like a bottomless pit, and that jerk of a guard's pathetic handouts seemed to add insult to injury.

"It's mine!" a man cried before clawing at the bread the guard had thrown toward the ground. His body looked weak, and I was surprised at how quickly he was able to get up. The scene was hard to watch. It was like he'd gone primal, and his instinct to survive was taking over his humanity. Swallowing, I feared when that would be me.

"I will be all right," Elijah said, his voice much steadier than before. "If either of you has not eaten, take your chance."

Jake shrugged him off before moving toward the bars of our cage, but the guard didn't even glance our way, throwing a piece to the cell next to ours instead.

Jake looked ready to explode before turning to punch the wall, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"I hope she's okay," I said to them both.

"She is," Elijah started out. "I can feel it."

I didn't understand what Elijah meant but figured it had to do with divinity. Whatever spoke to the two of them never spoke to me.