"In Harga death is a blessing cloaked from society. A secret soon seen by those who were once blinded by the false hope of love, life, and peace. Hope doesn't exist anymore. Like the king... We will all soon go mad under his rule. His thirst for pow...
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Xáłion had since watched more men leave the cages of the dungeon than they have entered. There were at least twenty five of them. Once men fighting against the guards to only then be the ones to drag off the next unlucky man to Kalïgar. It's only been at least two weeks. Every day one man leaves to only be seen again with a different outlook on the king. Where their first words were 'I would rather die than serve as his personal play toy', to something much more disturbing by the looks in their eyes when they return. Not to remain in the cages like those who were not insane but to return to keep them calm in a way that tried to convince them that Kaligar's intentions were that of enjoyment and nothing more. That his touch was amazing. The way he played with people was beyond the point of any other man or women. This would scare Xáłion.. For there was not many men left and he was a fried of what he'd be one when he came into contact with the monster that turned countless men who had families, wives, children into lovers and loyal servants to only one man.
The first day in the dungeons were anything but pleasant. Xáłion would throw up anything his stomach digested. It was sickening. Having to wear chains around his neck. A hand and both of his feet. Others however seemed to have more than just chains. Others actually had old torn tunics that covered their chests that kept them from getting cold while others tried to keep warm by huddling togeather. It was the loneliness that had gotten to Xáłion. Yet with his love there next to him, he didn't feel as lonely as he was from when they had gotten thrown in the darkness.
The dungeons were dark. The only thing to bring light to the whole place was the torches that on,y granted a small amount of light. The floor was dirty, and most of all wet. The celling dripping with moisture that would occasionally wake up a few sleepers within their mass cells. There was possibly ten to every cell and Xáłion along with his love was thrown into the cell with the last five men. Some elves, some actually human by the look of it. Yet when the first night came all they could do is watch in fear as one of the guards examined the cells. Every time his eyes met the body of one of the men he would scan the way they looked. See what they did before moving onto the next person. It was only when his eyes laid upon Xáłion was when he gave the only signs of a smile when he watched Xáłion cuddling with his love Łágîzin in the corner as they hugged each other for warmth. Jotting a few notes about him on the paper before pulling out a pair of tunics from a pouch he carried. Tossing them through the cell's bars at Xáłion and Łágîzin. They only looked at the guard as he gave a cocky smile before rubbing the hilt of his sword against the bars as he got closer to them. Almost pressing his cheeks against the bars as he looked at them both.
"Kalïgar will love you boy. The both of you." He said as he pulled himself from the bars and walked off. Sweat dripping from Łágîzin's forehead as Xáłion scrabbled for the tunics. Grabbing them before any of their sleeping shirtless cell mates coughs wind of what was happening and go after them. The loud band of the dungeon doors flying open made them all jolt awake. Leaving Xáłion speechless as the large dark figure walked down the stairs above them. The long wavy hair and strong looking armor caused some of the men to cower in fear whole those who were tired to just simply emotionlessly watch as the large figure made his way down the stairs. And of corse Xáłion knew exactly who it was.
