Young Writers Society

"I hear you did quite a number on some of my men." He kept his distance, studying what he could see of the boy. "Their families will want justice." Whatever it was, it had the form of a teenager. Gaius had killed younger, but he had never tortured someone less than twenty-five. He'd never had cause to. But now....if the boy didn't cooperate, he might not have much choice.

He could probably manage; his hands had been stained for decades now. What was a bit more blood added?

It was an accident. That was the truth. It was an accident, it was always an accident, another mistake, another misstep. He could hear the beating of his own heart in his ears. Fear made his breath unsteady.

"I-I didn't mean to," he murmured, tripping over his tongue, tone soft enough to be almost inaudible. He looked at the man's boots rather than his face, no more assertive than he had been when he was on Gaius' side of the bars.

"Well, what's done is done and justice must be served, mustn't it?" Gaius tapped his cane on the ground. "How did you do what you did, boy? Are you a god of some sort?" He wasn't entirely joking; there had been stories of gods walking the Realms, and not all of them were false. There was always truth in a story, and Gaius was not one to deny truths unless they could bring harm to his family.

God? Maybe. Unlikely. Gods were hunted, not revered. He looked away again. Shook his head. "I don't know."

He didn't know anything. Anything except for the fact that some people wanted to kill him for it. That it was cold. Unbelievably cold, and he couldn't stop it, and then there were moments, fleeting moments, where he opened his eyes and his hands were stained with red and he didn't know what had gone on in between. The man in front of him probably knew more about who he'd hurt and what had gone on than the boy himself did, but he didn't say that.

"Very strange thing, not knowing what you are." Gaius shifted his cane to his other hand. "Do you have a name, at least? A place of birth?" He had no intention of delivering this boy's head to the grieving families. No, this young man was far too intriguing to waste on the consolation of a few common folk. If he could figure out how these strange abilities were triggered, he could use that to his advantage in court and in wars.

And there would be a war on very soon.

It didn't matter whatever his genetics were. In the end, it was always the same. It had to be.

A name. He had a few of those. There was the one the man who was almost his father had given him and the one that he'd given himself. A place of birth? Not here. Far, far from here, but he didn't know how to explain it to a man from a world like this. There was a good chance he didn't even now what a star was, much less the concept of entire worlds. He wasn't sure he understood it himself.

"Cornyx. I don't know where I was born." That was true, at least. Maybe it was his world; maybe it was another one. He certainly wasn't human. Who knew where his true lineage was?

"Do you know which Realm, at least? I could peg you for Northern, but your accent..." That was the trouble. Gaius had heard hundreds of dialects and languages over the years, but never anything like this. "You intrigue me, boy," he said finally. "For that reason and that reason only, you will not be killed. Not yet. I wish to know how exactly you killed my soldiers like that."

Cornyx had no answers for him. He shook his head mutely in response to the query, and at least he couldn't be called a liar, even if he omitted his less-than-worldly origins. Or so he assumed. Maybe he was from this world originally and came to Earth on accident, and that was why he'd stumbled back here instead of somewhere else.

"Lad, I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you have no idea where you came from or how you used that power." Gaius was having a hard time gauging his truthfulness; the boy refused to look at him, and it was driving him half mad trying to make deductions.

His head was still ringing. Throat burning from the sheer temperature. The walls, tightening with every second. His breath was unsteady, and he was shaking slightly, but that could've been from the cold as much as anxiety. Cornyx almost didn't respond at all. Then, slowly, he dragged his eyes up, ebon eyes meeting Gaius'.

"I-I-I--" he started, gaze falling again, shaking his head once more. "I-I d-d-don't..."

"Try again." The warmth had gone completely from his voice. "Slower, if you must. I'm not a trusting man." The boy was not well. Perhaps he would have Sera tend to him later, but for now he was at Gaius' mercy.

His traitorous lips betraying him. Unable to simply utter words. "Y-y-you probably know m-more than I d-d-do, sir," he said, but his eyes were on the ground rather than Lord Ash's face. "I-I don't know where I'm from. O-or what--how--i-i-it happens."

"Dammit, boy." Gaius said this without raising his voice, but his patience was wearing thin. "I'm trying to determine your integrity. The least you could do is cooperate so I don't have to bloody my hands." The boy was probably telling the truth, but he needed to be sure. He had to know.

He was treading on thin ice. He flinched a bit at the words, in spite of the lack of volume, all too aware of where these things could lead. Cornyx wanted go give him what he wanted.

"I d-d-d-don't know," he repeated again, managing to drag his eyes up to Gaius'. They flickered back to the ground several times but it was more eye contact than any of his previous attempts.

Gaius let out a sigh. He wasn't going to get much more from Cornyx. "Alright. Is there anything you need at the moment? Blankets, perhaps? A meal?" He gave him a predatory smile; frustrating people didn't get sincerity.