Chapter Five
T he days fade together.
I don’t know how long I have been here.
I don’t know if I really care.
The small splattering of light that filters in through the entrance to the cave, gives no clear indication of day or night. Without my magickally adept night vision, I wouldn’t be able to see in here at all.
The darkness gets unnerving at times. I’ve never been afraid of the dark, but I can almost feel that tiny unsettling sensation here, with the echoing noises of falling rocks and trickling water. Or the scurrying of the creepy crawlies. I’m not a fan of spiders, but I wouldn’t mind the companionship right now. Even the eight-legged variety.
The cave itself is nothing grand.
None of the glorious cave growths you can sometimes see formed from dripping waters. No mossy walls or crystals. It simply looks like a small pocket carved out of dull rock. I don’t even think it goes back much deeper than my position. Although my line of vision is limited. The view of it would make me sad if I wasn’t stuck in my current predicament.
I don’t remember the last time I was able to fully drink my normal fill, let alone the last time I ate anything. I’m covered in dirt, and blood, and I don’t even want to think about what else, and the smell is enough to make my eyes water. That is, if they weren’t so dry that they actually could water. I would give anything to take a dip in the cool waters just alongside the merfolk village.
My stomach clenches and growls painfully. The sensation makes me wince, as my head spins a little, before my thoughts begin to turn fuzzy again. I can’t even produce enough saliva to wet my dry throat. I feel like a sponge that was set out in the sun, left to dry up before breaking apart and becoming dust.
What would happen to me if I dried out? Would I be just like a sponge?
I’m drugged all of the time. They are getting smarter about that after I managed to break out twice. I didn’t get far though, before they would snap a bubble around me that would dampen my magick completely and knock me unconscious.
It’s not even that a single one of these beings is anywhere near as powerful with magick as I am. But given my current state, I wouldn’t exactly say that I’m up-to-par for battle. Not to mention the fact that they seem to have some sort of hive mind. Once they start the bubble spell, they all work in tandem in a way that is just… off. Not practiced, but almost like each of them is merely an extension of one another. Like they are really just one being in the bodies of many.
It’s honestly creepy as fuck.
Then, once I’m secured back to the rock, the rope they use to bind me keeps my magick dampened and my muscles weak. I can feel the runes that must be spelled into each strand of the rope. It is a long process, but these guys don’t seem to have much of a social life, so I guess they have plenty of time.
With my magick pretty well unusable and my muscles lacking response, they are able to handle me one at a time when they need to for feedings and such. Although they still keep their heads shrouded most of the time, they don’t hide their faces anymore. Almost as if they accept that the magickal world all knows about their presence now, and seeing their faces is no longer a shock.
It’s still a pretty disgusting sight, though. All pale skin and black veins. Like zombie dicks.
Hey, I’ve seen a porno or two in my time. Too bad I found myself on a really fucking weird website at one point. Be careful what you search for and be specific with your terms, that’s all I’m saying.
Another really weird thing about these guys is that I can’t tell most of them apart. They all look relatively the same. They all have the same grayish-white skin, and I know from experience that if they are injured, they bleed that weird tar-like substance that is visible throughout their veins. They have cheeks that are sunken in and if they have any hair, it is sparse and stringy-like pale bits that hang haphazardly around their balding heads. I think the creepiest thing about them, though, is their eyes. Pitch black and dull lifeless balls the rest a little too deeply in their heads.
There might be females in the bunch, but they look just the same as the males.
What could possibly be so enticing for anyone to be willing to reduce their level of existence to this?
We have only moved locations once, and because both caves look nearly identical, I only know this because of the slight change in smell. The other cave had a much more mineral-like smell. Almost like salt rocks. However here, the smell from the slight breeze that manages to sneak in every so often, carries the heavy scent of pine. So clearly our position now indicates we are in a heavily wooded area.
I have no idea how far I am from Cordelia’s village. Hopefully, the merfolk who live there were able to escape. I don’t want to think about anyone like grandmother dying the same way For–
My eyes snap closed quickly and groan from the blooming pain in my chest.
I can’t even think her name. The pain is just too intense.
But it’s too late. That little bit was just enough and the images of her sweep into my mind like a tsunami, and take me away.
Her smile, her wild hair, those beautiful eyes… and then her Goddess-like form when her wings and tail come free. My vision of her shifts until I’m remembering the feel of her skin when she let me trace my fingers across what she thought was a massive scar, stretching down most of her torso. We learned that it was actually her tail, but the marking was mesmerizing nonetheless. That and the fact that she was standing so close to me in nothing but her underthings, and all I wanted to do was drop to my knees and worship every inch of her creamy white skin.
If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost remember her smell. That sweet floral and tart lemon smell was uniquely hers. The smell that made me feel alive and full of need, but strangely calm and comforted all at once. The vision of her shifts again and, this time, I’m closing the distance between us. Her lips pressing against mine felt like pure electricity racing through my veins. That was the moment when I realized what she truly was. My soul-bond mate.
The visions swim, and I feel the tears running down my cheeks. I could swear I can almost feel that pull deep inside me again. The one calling out to her. Longing to be with her. Needing her.
But she is gone. Lost to me, and to the world that so desperately needed their savior. The world will burn without her. I only pray that it takes me along with it.
Why would the Gods let her leave? Why does my mind torture me like this? Why do I feel these phantom tugs like our precious tether?
My pain is quickly replaced with my anger as I remember why she is no longer here, and exactly who is responsible. I will make these bastards pay. Every last one of them will die by my hands for taking away the most precious gift the Gods could have given the magickal world. No, the most precious gift they could have given me .
My pain and anger begin to meld into something new, I feel it thickening in my veins. I feel the now-dried tears on my face which only serve to feed my rage. I am beginning to feel more awake than I have in days. Maybe now is the perfect time to attempt another escape. If they catch me, I will take at least one of these fuckers down.
I need that blood on my hands, perhaps even more than I require water.
To feel that warm syrupy life fuel bathe my hands as it drains from their putrid bodies.
I crave their deaths.
Dots begin to line my vision and my head begins to throb. It’s this line of thinking that leads to actions punishable by the Gods. The type of punishment that would leave me utterly powerless.
Maybe at the very core of it all, that’ is what I truly deserve? Maybe I am just as responsible for the death of my soul as the monsters who ripped her from this world?
I don’t know if that is true or not, but if so, I hope the Gods punish me harshly.
My vision swirls even more and I feel nauseous, so I close my eyes and focus on my breathing to attempt to calm the aches of my stomach. I am not sure if they are hunger pains or dehydration pains, or maybe just the parts deep inside me that are in mourning. My heart weeps and I feel my soul is beyond repair. Perhaps that’s the pain I feel.
With my breathing slowed and my senses more open in days than they have been, I have no problem hearing a shuffling noise behind me. It grabs my attention, but I steady myself to make no movement. If they are coming back to torture me some more, I would rather they thought I was still out. I might be able to use that surprise as an opportunity to get free again.
I hear the shuffling noise once more, but this time it’s followed by a groan. That doesn’t exactly sound like the cultists.
Weighing my options, I decide to check things out. Leaning to my left, I am able to peer around the boulder I’m secured to, where I see a human-ish lump on the ground.
Hmm… so I guess my captors have multiple prisoners here.
Stretching my neck as far as possible, I try to get the person’s attention. “Psssttt…,” I whisper-yell at them.
They groan loudly and slowly lift their head. From my angle, his features are hard to read, but I am able to get an overall impression. He is a bigger guy, but is malnourished and his skin has this sunken-in quality. He opens his eyes a little and they have such a haunted look to them, I can’t help but feel empathy. He also knows loss.
Judging by his condition though, there is no way that this guy was captured at the same time as me. No, this is the look of a person who has been here for far too long. Someone who has given up all hope and will to fight.
“How long have you been here?” I manage to croak at the guy.
“What year is it?” he responds, but his voice is so small and dry I almost didn’t hear him.
“It’s 2023,” I tell him.
He sighs sadly and seems to sink lower into the ground. He shakes his head and I give him a moment to gather himself before he looks at me with disgust in his voice.
“I’ve been a guest in this palace for nearly twenty-seven years now.” The strength in his tone ignites a memory and all of the air leaves my body as if I were punched.
I know this man. At least, I know the man he used to be, having spent much of my early childhood living in his village. Seeing him like this now, though, some of the anger I was harboring for him fades. Still, I have to ask, needing him to confirm my suspicions.
“Orobas?” I ask, letting my doubt ring through my voice.
He gives a sad smile. “Now, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. I thought the world forgot all about me.”
His head starts to bob slightly before falling against his chest, and I can hear his deep rhythmic breathing. Clearly, I’m not the only one being drugged. I just can’t believe he has been here , with these beings the entire time, and no one noticed. How is that possible? What else is happening in the demon faction that no one knows about?
I’m staring at him in an awed sort of disbelief when my eyes snap down to the center of my chest. To the spot where I feel this insistent pulling again. Right where I used to feel my soul calling to my mate.
But that can’t be happening. She’s gone. Right?
Then again...
If Orobas Blackwell is here and has been here for twenty-seven years when all of the other factions believed he was still leading the demons, anything seems possible. Although, if the factions would pull their heads out of their asses and actually communicate with one another again, then word may have gotten to someone that the demon leader was actually in trouble.
Stupid, stubborn factions and their stupid prejudices. They are all so hung up on shunning the demons because they are so convinced that they are the ones that created the Creatori, when that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
But if Orobas is alive and hasn’t purposefully abandoned a daughter he may not even know exists, then maybe, just maybe, there are more secrets. Maybe the small pull in my chest isn’t just phantom feelings.
Maybe is a dangerous word.
Unable to resist, I close my eyes for a minute and gather my thoughts. As much as I don’t want to let it, I know that hope has already taken hold deep inside of my heart.
Pushing just a small amount of focus, I can feel the pull stronger this time.
My eyes fly open, and so does my guard. The feeling rushes in, hard and strong. It pulls on the center of my chest in the most amazingly painful way. Tears stream down my checks, but I give no fucks.
I swear on the Gods that if that infuriating woman truly is alive like my soul believes she is, I’m never letting her out of my sight again. I can’t stop the broad smile that takes over my face at the thought of how much that proclamation would thoroughly piss her off.
All thoughts of rage are replaced with steel determination.
Now…
How do I get myself, and her father, away from the assholes currently holding us captive with all of our pieces in-tact?