Paradox Interluder (Usurper #2)

7

Jessamine awoke with the sensation of movement beneath her, as if on a moving platform with the way her body gently jerked to one side. Her eyes tried to pry open but they were heavy with a weight of confusion. Her head pounded, her hand trying to move to feel if it was bruised.

However, her hands were tied. And the sound of the train horn was enough to wake her completely.

When her eyes opened, she was in a relatively empty storage train car. Her train, to be more specific. It was easy to recognize the wooden floors she had picked out herself in the design. She sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair, ankles bound with tight rope at the front legs of the chair and her wrists tied tightly around the backing.

She felt drained, her fingers trying to find a loose knot in the ropes to try and slowly pry it apart. It wasn't until she felt additional metal tearing at her wrists, she realized she was wearing enchanted cuffs.

It explained the state of overwhelming grogginess, and the lack of thoughts floating in the air for her mind to grasp. Her heart rate accelerated quickly, not knowing who could enter the room, if there wasn't anybody already standing behind her. She couldn't sense anything. She was blind in the Oblivion world, at least in the physical one she could still see. However, she was muted as a piece of her emerald dress had been ripped and manufactured into a gag.

It didn't matter. Jessamine had the feeling even if she didn't have a gag, any screams for help would slip into the void.

The train was already moving quickly, too quickly. The wheels turned at a rapid, borderline uncontrollable pace. It jostled the train-car at any slight turn. Jessamine could see the reflection of moonlight through the doorslit to her left, indicating she must be in the last car. If she could get out of these bindings, jumping out from the back was safer than anywhere else on the train. Not at a speed like this, though.

A firm hand gripped her shoulder before the door to her right slid open, wind howling and filling the car with the frigid desert breeze. Several men entered the room, all covered in black garbs and head coverings. Their body language didn't appear harmful, from Jessamine's initial interpretation. They exhumed confidence but not murderous violence. Whatever they wanted, she'd find out soon enough.

A groan left her lips as she felt that strong hand leaving her shoulder to tug at her hair, hating the sensation. Her breathing accelerated, clearly visible to the group as they moved closer to study her. All she saw were dark eyes, but there was one male on the right with piercing blue eyes, lingering in the back. She focused on the central figure, who tilted his head with almost a bit of a mock.

"So, this is the infamous mind-witch? I thought she'd be more terrifying," the voice hummed, unfamiliar to her. His grainy voice held an even grittier accent. Southern Skale, perhaps? Jessamine knew she couldn't interpret any of their minds, which meant having to analyze what she could see, not hear.

Her eyes narrowed, the man's words certainly not meant to be a compliment. When her eyes focused solely on him, she could see his pupils shrink, eyes blinking rapidly just for a moment. So much for not being terrifying. The man cowered slightly, staring into the hurricane within her eyes.

If they really didn't see her as a threat, they would have just stuck with the enchanted cuffs. Instead, she was practically glued to this chair, the rope digging into her soft porcelain skin. They might learn soon enough it only appeared porcelain, but Jessamine Kruzika was anything but fragile.

Jessamine felt the hand leave her hair to yank the gag away from her lips. She licked them to add some moisture, feeling them already dry and cracked. Limestone dust still remained, her mind going back to fragments from the moment graphite exploded. She remembered the sight of blood, a massive block of stone wedging Kiev's leg to the floor while also cutting into it. She remembered hearing Vrah's desperate voice through the cloud of debris: