The Asterian Dream

XX: The Lost Child Returns

Conrad spent the next several days in pure delirium. He lapsed in and out of consciousness, and all he could gather was that he was being rushed somewhere. The clearest memory he had was of several Dragonborn mages standing over him and doing something to his head. That was the last thing he remembered before completely lapsing into unconsciousness. 

When he awoke, he felt all his senses coming back to him one by one. He felt cold metal upon his back. The air about him smelled damp and musty. And finally, he opened his eyes and saw the dark stones of a dungeon above him. Slowly rising from the metal sheet that served as a bed, he looked about and saw five guards standing outside his cell. One left as soon as he arose, but the others did not move an inch. 

Pacing about his cell, Conrad tried to find any possible way out. However, there was not as much as a tiny window to climb through. This cell truly seemed inescapable. Looking outside, he saw his cell was carved into the wall of a massive cavern. The cavern's walls seemed to be filled with similar cells as far as he could see. As he was looking out, he began to hear heavy footsteps approaching. The guard returned, this time followed by a familiar face.

"Finally decided to join the living again?" Greydor asked with a smirk.

Conrad refused to acknowledge him. He just went back to his bed and sat down.

With a deep sigh, Greydor unlocked his cell door and walked in. "Your old family has been worried to death about you." He then sat down next to Conrad. "They want you back. Your father has especially missed you. My goal has been to find you and bring you back home."

Conrad turned and glared at Greydor, anger all over his face. "Ludex was only ever Dindrun's weapon, nothing more. I'm never going back."

Greydor seemed rather despondent. "I know how family can be sometimes, better than most," he said.

Conrad, to his surprise, did not sense anything but sincerity in Greydor. "Your sister certainly is a piece of work," he said, his demeanor softening somewhat.

Greydor chuckled. "Always has been," he replied. "But I can assure you, unlike my family which is naught but lies and deceit, Lord Dindrun has nothing but honesty. He simply wants to see you again." Greydor then stood up. "He's very old. You were always the closest to him. Can you at least let him see you once again before he passes away?"

Conrad wanted to be angry. That's all he wanted. Dindrun had thrown him into the fires of war since as far as he could remember and had many a time treated him quite harshly for the smallest offense. However, as he listened to Greydor, he felt just the slightest pang of remorse. Dindrun was the closest thing he ever had to a father. As some of his memory trickled back, he remembered some of the few good times. The times when Dindrun was there to listen when no others were. Sure he was strict, but he seemed to genuinely care. And now, he was old. He was going to die soon anyways, so what would be the harm in seeing his son one last time?

Conrad finally stood up. He calmly and quietly proceeded out of the cell, where he was guided by the guards and Greydor up the stairs out of the cell block. Entering the halls of the fortress, many memories came back to him. Memories of playful chatting with the soldiers, strategizing with the commanders, and dueling anyone who would accept the challenge. Even though many dark memories also came back to him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia seeing all the sights he once knew so well.

 The group came upon a large set of iron doors. Conrad shuddered a little at the sight of them. The entrance to Dindrun's throne room was an all-too-familiar sight. Many a violent meeting had taken place there. He could almost feel the sting of the whip used whenever he made the slightest mistake. Attempting to brush that aside, he stepped into the throne room as the guards opened the doors.