Dawn of Arcane Destiny

Chapter Sixty-Four

Drayce felt a sharp pain across his cheekbone. It immediately began to swell. Someone shoved him against the wall. He snapped his eyes open to see prison master Ka’Desmaku. Yes, it was a strange name, that was why he was in trouble. Apparently Istheos were sensitive about their parent’s poor taste. No, it didn’t matter if it was a traditional name or not. It was still worth the mockery in Drayce’s opinion.

“I have had enough of your attitude, weak one.” Ka’Desmaku said in heavily accented Kamas. “You just lost meals for the next three days.”

“Great.” Drayce muttered. “I don’t like your food anyways.” He really should stop antagonizing the prison master, but when he got cranky, he lost his filter, and well, he had been in a perpetual bad mood since Alarik’s death.

He saw the other prisoners, some from his own squad shaking their heads at him. Some in disdain some in warning. Drayce heeded neither.

“I could starve you. No one would bat an eye.” Ka’Desmaku said, pressing his forearm harder against Drayce’s neck. Drayce had already been starved all of last rotation. He’d just barely “earned” his slop back. What was he? Ten?

“Do it.” Drayce challenged. “You got to come up with better punishments, Ka. I rather die than eat that slop.” It was partially true. It was gross. Drayce didn’t even know what was in it. However when Drayce died he didn’t want his death to be hopeless, in the hands of someone else.

“Maybe I do.” Ka’Desmaku said. He released Drayce, and shoved him at some of the guards. Drayce had lost considerable weight in the month he had been imprisoned. Most of his strength was gone. It didn’t help he allowed Ka’Desmaku to starve him. The food was already scarce enough. He barely had the strength to stand, but he wasn’t about to allow the prison master to see him collapse.

The prison guards grabbed and forced him outside into the bright sun. The garish light seemed to scorch Drayce’s light deprived eyes. He blinked several times as he was dragged out into the war camp. They had traveled twice in the past month. Drayce had no idea where they were, and he didn’t really care. But by the heat he’d hazard a guess that they were further south. His ankles and wrists were still recovering from the shackles the Istheos put their prisoners in for travel.

In a matter of moments, one of the guards grabbed Drayce around his raw ankles, the other grabbed under the arms and lifted him upside down. Too easily. Drayce was tall, but his almost constant starvation had left him sickly and emaciated.

Within minutes, Drayce’s blistered ankles were tied in a coarse rope against a thick pole driven in the ground below. He immediately felt blood rush to his head. He glared at Ka’Desmaku, who was looking on with a self-satisfied look on his face. The prison master stepped forward and leaned forward until his face was mere inches from Drayce’s.

“When will you learn that all a rebellious attitude gets you is pain?” he asked. Drayce spit in his face. Ka’Desmaku reeled back, wiping his faced off. He punched Drayce in the diaphragm leaving him gasping in pain. The prison master turned around and stalked back to the prison tent. “That weak one,” He said without turning, “Just earned you a beating after five hours of hanging, every day, this rotation.”

Drayce felt sick. How long could one spend upside down without dying? Beatings everyday this rotation? He started bracing himself for a miserable week.

***

Drayce awoke sluggishly when he dropped to the ground. Holy Non, his head hurt fiercely. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Ka to come up with better punishments. His head felt heavy. He forced himself to his feet. He needed to get the blood back to his legs. Who knew what brain damage he might obtain?