Igniting A Flame {Kingdoms #1}

Thirty-Eight

Lukas had been staring at the darkness-riddled corners of this damned cell for far too long, stifled by the aching in his joints and the gash that still lingers across his arm. Just a troubled waif, helplessly whimpering to himself. The air brimming with the sickening stench of piss and filth. He could see the others silently suffering with the poor conditions, could have laughed if he weren't in such a dreadful mood. Years of residing in the slums of Sora had built a tolerance for such situations.

Lukas shot a swift glance across the room and over the pitiful group of people miserably huddled in their own corner. He refused to look or talk to Yevvi. Never had he felt such indignation for someone before. Gods, this was precisely what he feared trailing along with these truth-seeking hooligans. Living in Sora, his mind was completely shut off, hollow. Emotionless. He was starting to think the suspicious were always there, begging him to indulge in vivid thoughts, yet he refused to allow himself that far for this crippling misery shrouded him each time. Lukas would have been perfectly fine living in ignorant bliss for the remaining of his years, with the thought of a simple father who left his son long ago. Not this...He swallowed hard, wanting to drag his nails across the stone until they tore off. This damned conflict consumed him wholly. A saviour to the worn down streets of Sora or a king to the lost kingdom. Instead, he settled in the dark in-between of nothingness.

Lukas had mustered a shred of fight when that haughty navy blue cloaked figure greeted him in that room, using his scant strength to unload a roaring string of pure flame at his captor. He had burnt the bottom half of his cloak, revealing a sturdy leather boot with the royal Soran symbol engraved on it. From then on, he faltered, too much magic used at once as exhaustion overcame him once again. A piercing ice barrier ensnared his hands, preventing any more use of fire, no doubt another cursed item of Elasta. The stone pulsed in his pocket, writhing with whatever cruel power lay within it. Gods, a manipulation stone. Could this be connect to King Andel? He shook his head, forcing away the thought.

Instead, he slowly lifted his throbbing body. His hands quivered as he willed strength to his arms, eventually slumping against the wall. He couldn't bare a glance at the gash marring his arm nor the memory of that glinting sickle tearing it. The vehement blows to his nose, still pulsing and sore, and thundering grunts of his captors echoing through his mind. Nothing could rip that memory from him; no amount of avoidance could blur the torment he had experienced. Spending weeks under that same treatment...gods. Arvin said determination kept him thriving during his time in enemy camps, a desperate attempt to convert him to the restoration of Maragnus. As much as he hated being swayed, some violent twinge of anger flickered within him upon hearing Arvin's story. His own people, torture! Lukas could spit at them; pound his fist into their face until they bled.

With a too loud groan, Lukas stretched his back and arms and feebly coiled into his usual position. He ignored the gazes lingering on him and shut his eyes, allowing the thoughts to drift away as did his consciousness. The weightless slumber swept him away, carrying him to that mystic realm where the black void glimmered with faint speckles of deep blue. As if it were a solid iron barrier, that calm protectiveness shrouded his body. Lukas turned his head to find the grey rip and Khandi's piercing violet eye gazing at him.

He leaned on the barrier connecting Khandi's realm and this space of in-between. "I'm tired of running. I'm tired of feeling torn between the life I knew for so long and the life that holds potential for my friends," he whispered.

Friends. He had convinced himself these people were a captor themselves, pushing Lukas to become something he wasn't. Lukas admitted to feeling lonely without Yevvi's unbearable cockiness and optimism. He had a taste of freedom and despised the truth that came with it. Gods, maybe he was just an ignorant child.