Chapter 17 The Craft
Even amidst the chaos and the dim torchlight, Gareth quickly realized his captors were not just humans. Towering over him and dragging him along with ease, were Anak'suke. They were large, hound-like humanoids from the western deserts.
They were a strong race, walking upright with powerful hind legs and muscular humanlike torsos and arms. Their faces were reminiscent of jackals, with long muzzles, beady eyes, long ears, and manes of wild hair atop their heads.
Gareth had never seen one up close before.
They were frightening to behold, even for him.
Alongside the Anak'sukes were also gremlins. Gremlins were vile little creatures of many sizes, shapes, and forms. They were murderous parasites that quickly adapted to any environment with the propensity to strip the land of all life if they were left unchecked.
This would happen because their species had the incredible ability to absorb the characteristics of whatever they consumed. Meaning, their young often inherited traits and specialized hunting abilities tailored to their diet.
In the eastern kingdoms, gremlins were reviled as uncivilized, brutish, and only barely intelligent. They spoke few words and communicated mostly through grunts and gestures.
The only exception was found in colonies that fed primarily on intelligent life forms. Their exposure to such prey seemed to grant them a higher level of cunning and reasoning.
Gareth killed many gremlins during his gladiator tournaments. Alone, they were never much of a threat, but in groups, they became truly dangerous.
And judging by their numbers, there was likely to be a colony somewhere nearby.
Gremlins and Anak'suke came from other lands across the sea and were banished to the west long ago, although they have still been known to cause issues for the eastern kingdoms from time to time.
Gareth couldn't imagine what they were doing this far in the east, or how they managed to arrive without anyone noticing.
The gremlins seemed to react to Zephyrah's fresh wound, buzzing around, snapping and clawing at her. She screamed and kicked at them, but the monsters kept swarming her.
The Anak'suke dragging her along turned abruptly and yanked a coiled whip from his belt. With a menacing snarl, he unfurled and cracked the whip at the gremlins. At the snap of the whip, lightning arched from the spur, branching out and zapping all of the nearby creatures.
They cried out, then scattered like roaches in the sun.
Gareth's eyes grew wide.
Magic.
How was this possible?
He met Zephyrah's gaze which appeared to be of equal surprise.
They dragged the three intruders over the drawbridge and into the fortress and emerged into a sprawling, grimy courtyard. The courtyard was crowded with ratty tents, campfires, heaps of bones, and piles of squalor. The stench of rot, filth, and decay was overwhelming.
Gareth scrunched his nose in disgust.
The gremlin colony.
Although it was small, it was still chaotic. Gremlins darted between the tents, quarreling over scraps of rotting meat and fighting over space.
As the prisoners were hauled through, waves of gremlins rushed towards them, shrieking and clawing, desperate for a closer look at the newcomers. The Anak'sukes repeatedly cracked their electrified whips, sending arcs of lightning snapping through the air to drive the creatures back.
When they finally reached the heavy double doors of the fortress, the guards quickly snapped to attention and opened the doors with a grunt then they watched curiously as the outsiders were led inside.
The prisoners were dragged into a big hall where they were thrown onto the floor. In front of them stood a towering, burly man in plate armor, with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.
Standing behind him was another man, dressed in fine clothing and sporting a monocle. His eyes darted around with a wild, manic energy.
Zephyrah noticed immediately that the well-dressed man's skin was unnaturally pale and mapped in the same thin black lines as the bodies in the moat. He also appeared sickly and almost rabid or crazed and had a bleeding wound on the back of his bald head.
The three stayed on their hands and knees on the ground, looking desperately at the numerous eyes and snarling grins that surrounded them, ready to attack at a moment's notice.
The tall, armored man stepped forward slowly, sneering and speaking in a deep, booming tone, "Well what have we here? A forest creature, a human, and a Draconae, not only traveling together, but collaborating? What a rare and curious company."
The man with the monocle stepped closer to the outsiders, his eyes fixed intently on the Dissolver. "A Draconae? Rare indeed."
He reached a hand toward the boy, but the armored man grasped his face and aggressively shoved him aside, continuing on.
"I will not waste time on introductions. I do not care who you are. What I want to know is who sent you and why."
Gareth gave each of his companions a stern look, subtly shaking his head, urging them silently to keep quiet.
The armored man's keen eye noticed the gesture and chuckled coldly, "Am I to presume you are the leader of this band?" He asked, eyeing Gareth with a sickening grin, "Do not confuse my kindness for weakness. I will not repeat myself. If you do not talk, then I will make you squeal."
A wave of excited laughter erupted from the looming crowd.
The Dissolver tried to keep a brave face like Gareth and Zephyrah, but his heart raced and his body trembled uncontrollably. He gulped hard and stared down at the ground.
Gareth and Zephyrah met the man's stare with stubborn, angry glares, their lips sealed tight.
The armored man sighed, and waved his hand in nonchalance. "Very well. Take them to the dungeon. Start with the fauna."
The nearby Anak'sukes stepped forward as the crowd cheered, but the man with the monocle stepped between them.
"General, wait!" He hovered close to the Dissolver, hunched over and seething, "Let me start with this one. A Draconae is a rare specimen. The power that flows in their dragon blood is sure to be far superior to any race I have tested thus far."
"No!" Zephyrah suddenly called out, "Don't touch him. He's just a child!"
"A child?" The strange man's face broke into a spine-chilling grin and he began speaking faster, more excited, "A child with the strength and size of an adult human?
Remarkable. A child's mind is weak. Their resolve is fragile.
To think, it might be possible to break his mind, snatching his life source without completely devastating his body in the process! A perfect specimen—"
"Enough, doctor." The general growled sternly, "If you insist on this experiment, I will allow it, but only so long as you retrieve the information in the process. But make no mistake. This changes nothing for you." He flicked his hand to the Anak'sukes. "Take them away."
The three struggled against their captors, but to no avail. The Anak'sukes forced them down a steep stone staircase to a maze of corridors, rooms, and empty prison cells.
Zephyrah and Gareth fought with all their strength, reaching out towards the Dissolver's outstretched arm, but the Anak'sukes beat them back.
They watched helplessly as the child was forced into a dark room along with the doctor and a heavy wooden door closed behind them.
Zephyrah couldn't stop the tears from falling down her face as she made eye contact with the terrified child before he disappeared behind the door.
The Anak'sukes yanked them down the corridor to the end of the hall of empty cells. Passing by, their surroundings were a blur of chains and dried copper stains within each cell.
When they reached the last one, the Anak'sukes stopped short.
"Where did he come from?" One asked, with a thick, desert accent, pointing to the man who was hunched over and chained in the corner.
The other Anak'suke replied, angrily. "How should I know?"
"I thought the doctor already used up all the prisoners?"
"The prisoners are not my responsibility."
The Anak'suke growled in irritation, then unlocked the cell and shoved Gareth and Zephyrah inside. He quickly snapped the iron chains around their wrists, then left, slamming the door shut behind him and grumbling under his breath.
They carried the intruders' weapons and belongings to a table and threw them on top in a heap. They quietly rummaged through their things, muttering to each other.
Gareth grunted and strained against the chains, trying with all his strength to rip them from the wall.
Zephyrah stood, limping, tugging and pulling hers as well.
The man in the corner chuckled, not cold or sad, but amused.
Gareth and Zepyrah froze, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Something funny to you?" Gareth spat, growing angrier by the second.
The man snickered, "Well, yes, to be quite honest."
The man in the corner looked up and regarded them with a lopsided, mischievous grin.
He appeared younger, though not a youth, and was dashingly handsome with pale, almost luminescent skin.
His ears were long and pointed, and adorned with two silver loops, that pierced through one upper lobe.
His hair, like most of his clothing, was midnight black, and it was longer at the top and shaved short on one side.
But it was his eyes that truly set him apart. They were striking silver and almost seemed to glow in the dim dungeon, reflecting the flickering torchlight.
"In case you haven't noticed, this is a dungeon and those chains are iron. Even if you did manage to break them—which you won't—the door is locked. Not even a man of your size could possibly break through iron bars. Besides," He smirked. "You look ridiculous."
Gareth gritted his teeth and seethed, "So what am I to do? Wait here for them to kill us? Like you're doing?"
The elf rolled his silver eyes, "They may well kill you, but I can assure you, they will not lay a finger on me."
"You are mad." Gareth scoffed, crossing his arms.
The elf shrugged and chuckled, flashing a dangerous grin, "Well, aren't we all?"
Zephyrah cut in, eyeing the elf suspiciously. "How did you come to be here? Who are you?"
The elf sucked in his breath, "I would rather not get into the specifics of it. Let's just say... I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." His voice was cool and smooth as the words rolled off his tongue.
"But as for my name, dear," He met Zephyrah's eyes with a devilish grin, "You may call me Silverfox."