Elemental Thief Part I : Child of Calamity

Of My Enemy

Kethan breathed in fresh air for the first time in longer than he would like.

Granted, he was still indoors, mostly underground and chained to a table, but the air was fresh, because it had small little windows up at the top of the wall, letting in a cooling breeze that cleared out most of the humid stuffiness of the prison.

He cursed for what was the millionth time, snapping his hands apart, as if he could break the metal of the chains that held him down. Though he had to admit that these were lighter, less bruising on his wrists, and they had allowed him the ability to eat his meal with a bit more dignity than the last ones did.

Not to mention the rusted ones from the ship.

He was clean, also, having been taken to a well-guarded bathhouse, and given enough time to wash in fresh water, though under the watchful eyes of five Guard. They would not let him escape, and for the moment, Kethan was sure his chance had disappeared the moment the Prison gates had closed on that damned bitch-Captain.

He hoped she had been gutted slowly in the fight.

His anger had swelled as her yelling for the gate to be closed had dashed his hopes of freedom, even as the streets swarmed with the mercenaries.

Someone had been watching, someone had wanted to get him free.

Someone had failed.

He also hoped that those reject hired swords died slow, painful deaths, for failing in the simple task of freeing two prisoners. Though, he had seen the Rulin soaring overhead through the window in the carriage they had been transferred in, feeling the sinking certainty that they would come at any moment for him.

He didn't know why they were so bent on prosecuting him, couldn't figure it out for the life of him. He had been remarkably well behaved on their soil, trying to avoid such an issue.

Unless that little brat had snitched on him, made up some story about him being the cause of her behaviour, which would explain the sudden interest in the King's justice in a Clairvalan street thug. Had she told them he had hired her to assault the Prince? How believable would that story be? He also wondered if she had somehow tipped them off about the papers, about something going on.

Kethan shook his head, knowing that the most logical betrayer was that Captain Oliver, conveniently in the right places at the right time, with the very thing that they needed. He should have suspected it. But the man had been such a buffoon, a drunkard with no sense and no morals. Kethan had been certain he was an easy mark. And now, everything was crashing around him, leaving him rotting in prison, waiting to be handed over to those sub-human winged freaks.

He regretted wishing the Captain a gruesome death. She might be the only one who remembered her promise, who thought of what he could offer the Crown here. He wondered if she had died, knowing certainly that she had, seeing the amount of mercenaries she had faced before the gates had closed.

Stupid, crazy bitch.

The door opened then, and a woman stepped in, well-dressed, still young, though her carriage and expression made her out to be a noble, someone who thought she was better than the rest of the world. She watched him for a moment, before moving to sit down at the table across from him as the door to the room closed, though the slotted window remained open, allowing for more of a breeze to run through the room.

"Kethan, is it?" She asked finally, placing her hands on the table, palm down. "Have you had enough to eat and drink?"

"I'm afraid I don't know your name though, Lady." He gambled at her title, but inclined his head respectfully, settling in to play it cool, knowing that she probably expected him to be rude, uncouth, insulting.