A Sorcerer's Flame

Chapter 12

Ink was curious about the meeting with ‘the King’. He had never gone to sleep, he didn’t need to. He moved his eyelights over to Cross’ limp figure, it took him a long time to get him to sleep. He looked at his hands. Unfortunately, this cell was magic-canceling so he couldn’t escape that way.

Broomie was still on his back, but he couldn’t hear Broomie without his magic. Still, he was glad that his paintbrush was with him. If he was really desperate he could smack his enemies away with heavy force. It’s not like Nightmare knew that Broomie was used as a weapon, he probably wouldn’t be with him if he did.  Broomie would be happy with that plan. Then again, Broomie is happy with anything he does.

He hears soft footsteps, clearly not the same as Horror’s as they were softer. He lightly pushed Cross’ shoulder, waking him up. He looked over at Ink in confusion before noticing the footsteps too.

This time when the door opened, it was the hooded guard from before. Shadows completely covered the top half of his face. How mysterious. A soft, almost whisper-like voice spoke up.

“Come.” That was all that was said, but it was enough to cause Ink to be careful—a surprising feat to anyone who knew him.

He rose from the floor, and Cross did the same, albeit slower. They waited near the wall as the guard took out a key, unlocking both cells.

‘It would be so easy to run out and bite his head off.’

No.

No violence.

Dream said it was bad.

‘Okay…’

The voice sounded disappointed, but not malicious. Not towards him anyway. It never was. He was glad for that.

Once out of the cell, he moved between Cross and the guard. Even he could feel the tension between them. The guard did not comment on it and turned around.

As they walked through the large, dark castle, Ink observed the new setting. When he and Cross were first brought in, Ink wasn’t focused on that. But now he wanted to know this place as well as he could(despite his bad memory).

After a long time of walking, they reached a large wooden door.

The guard pushed it open harshly and walked in.

“Dust, don’t slam the door,” spoke Nightmare’s voice, tired. Ink took note of the many books as they walked in, he probably liked to read. That or he wanted to flex his collection or something. Wouldn’t be the first time he saw that from a noble.

‘The(self-proclaimed) King’ was sitting on a fancy chair, Ink wondered if it was even comfortable. He looked at both of them, calculating gaze never leaving them.

In a surprising move of bravery, Cross asked a question they both had, “What do you want.” Although he would have been nicer(he hopes) he knew Cross was tense in this place.

Nightmare’s gaze grew sharp, and next to him, Cross winced. He tilted his head, something felt of but he didn’t know what. Oh well, he guesses he’ll have to figure it out later. He turned back towards Nightmare, only to notice the questioning gaze on him. Maybe he wanted a staring contest. He liked staring contests because he always won. After a few seconds, Nightmare moved his gaze away. Ink finally blinked and he knew that his eyes turned into a star and circle at the victory.

Ink did not notice the shadows growing smaller.

Nightmare straightened in his seat and spoke, “You were too close to something important, I'm afraid. You were brought here to ensure that you wouldn’t mess up my plans. It didn’t hurt that Cross was with you.”