Young Writers Society

Part two of the second chapter, and trust me; it's not as dark as the first half, but still probably darker than the first chapter, hence the 18+. You've been warned. Please let me know if it's too much! Otherwise, enjoy. Feedback is appreciated.

And if you want translations for anything you don't understand (such as the language I created for most of my fantasy novels), just ask!

Chapter 2 - Part 2

Silver glinted through half-closed lashes as footsteps echoed through the dungeon. Cóiseam’s eyes fluttered open as those footsteps got closer. More than one person, too. He looked up wearily as two guards came into view. One of the men now standing before him held a length of rope. The other one held a whip.

Resigned, Cóis let them unchain him and drag him to his feet. Wincing, he tried to stay upright as they tied his wrists together behind his back and started marching him towards the exit. He was glad his broken leg had already healed and that he could walk on it. His wounds would be worse by the time he was back in the dungeons; he just knew they would be.

“Move,” grunted one of his guards, shoving him forwards. Cóis stumbled for a few steps before falling to his knees. He may have healed, but he was still weak. The guards hauled him to his feet, sharing a look. “Did Jakome hit you too hard or something?”

“Shut up,” hissed the second guard. “Let's just get him upstairs, eh?”

The first guard shot his friend a glare. “You’re no fun,” he muttered and pushed the Immortal onward. The pair went back to business and several minutes later, they had Cóis out of the dungeon and out into the sunlight.

The Immortal squinted against the sunlight as he was forced to stumble into the middle of the temple’s courtyard. He scowled. To do this sort of thing right in front of a temple? Jakome was insane. This would make whatever patron god that the temple was built for quite angry. And Cóiseam knew angry.

He saw Jakome standing on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, a dark-haired boy beside him. The boy had a nasty bruise covering half his face. Cóiseam could see it from where he stood. He knew the man was sadistic, but to do that to a child? The Immortal frowned and took a closer look. The boy looked like he had several dark marks covering his neck. Cóis looked away. He knew far too well what Jakome was capable of.

The guards laid him over a large stone someone had placed in the courtyard. Or had it already been there? He didn’t know and wasn’t really there enough to care. The unbound his hands and yanked them down on either side of the stone, binding them in place. It was only when he craned his neck around to look up did he notice he was facing the crowd and not Jakome.

Cóiseam winced as his broken ribs rubbed against each other. It was agony, but he wasn’t going to cry out over this. The sound of a whip uncurling and falling to the flagstones froze Cóis where he was. They were going to whip him in front of this crowd? The faces in the crowd were blurred, but he could still make out some of them. There were people he knew and cared for. People he had interacted with on a daily basis. And they were just standing there, watching him as Jakome had him publicly tortured? What was wrong with them? Why weren’t they doing anything to help him? Cóiseam knew why. Jakome.

Laughter floated down to him from somewhere behind Cóiseam. He knew it was Jakome, but he didn’t care. The man could laugh all he wanted. Cóiseam would not give him the satisfaction of breaking him. Although, Cóis feared he was already breaking. Just a little longer and he’d be free--or so he hoped. Hadn’t that woman--Catrina?--told him that they would meet again? That one of the gods had an interest in him? Yes. Yes, she had. Leather scraped across the ground before there was a loud crack and pain bloomed across his shoulders. That was the only warning he got before another blow landed. Cóis bit his lip to keep in the cry that wanted to force its way out. He would not give Jakome the pleasure in seeing him cry out today. He’d already screamed enough the night before.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Cóiseam counted off the lashes in time with the guard handling the whip. Jakome was silent now. Probably entranced by the blood. Cóis knew how twisted the man was. The man liked to see others in pain. Another blow landed, making Cóiseam wince and bite his lip harder, forcing the gasp back down. And so it went on for several minutes. At lash thirty, the Immortal cried out, going limp against the stone. Jakome ordered the guard to keep going. Cóiseam counted down the next ten lashes, eyes slitted against the light and the pain. Finally, the last blow landed and Jakome called for a stop.

“Let this serve as an example to you,” he announced to the crowd. They murmured and whispered amongst themselves as the two guards unbound Cóiseam and removed him from the rock, throwing him onto his back. Cóiseam let out a groan, staring up at the sky as it blurred and span. Oh, of course he’d make an example out him. Cóiseam was really starting to get sick of being used and abused by Jakome. When he got free and healed completely, he was going to hand Jakome over to a demon to see how he liked it. “Now, go back to your holes and hide. If my men find one of you commoners somewhere you shouldn't be, they are authorized to kill you.”

The crowd shambled off, leaving Cóiseam laying on the ground between two guards with Jakome and his little boy-toy watching from the balcony. The Esharian king shot Cóis a dark look before he stood up from leaning on the railing. He glanced towards the boy before looking back at the Immortal. Cóiseam watched this with half-lidded eyes, pain making his head foggy and his vision blurry, drifting in and out of focus. At least one of the blows had hit the back of his head.

“You got off lightly, Immortal,” Jakome called out. Cóis flinched, yelping when his wounds sent pain down his back. One of the guards gave him a kick before looking back up at Jakome. The Immortal whimpered. “Take him back to my rooms, put him in the shackles on the wall. I think my little cousin and I shall have some fun later. Won’t we, Mikel?” Cóiseam shuddered as the guards hauled him up off the ground and dragged him back towards the temple. He wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the day.

~-~-~

Cassian watched as the men dragged the Immortal back towards the temple. Jakome’s words echoed in his mind. They were...going to put him in the Esharian king’s rooms so the king and his cousin would... He didn’t want to finish that thought. That was horrible. He looked towards the she-demon. Catrina had a hungry edge to her gaze. He had come to expect that during the hours they had spent waiting for this at Alt-ur’s acquired home. The she-demon glanced his way before they both looked towards the god. He was perched beside them on the rooftop, watching the scene with a frown. Something about the entire thing felt off. None of three on the rooftop could put their finger on it yet, though.

“We need to save him,” Cassian murmured, shooting the Immortal a glance as he vanished into the temple. The Seraphim flexed his wings, worried. Alt-ur spared him a glance before focusing on the she-demon.

“Think you can get into the dungeon and get out with Cóis before the guards notice you?” he asked, watching the woman. She stared back for a long moment before sighing and looking away. Alt-ur frowned at her as she returned her gaze to his. They stared at each other for a long moment before she nodded.

“I have been watching the guards do their rounds for a while now,” she said thoughtfully. “I should be able to get in and get out, with him, without alerting the mortals.” She pursed her lips and nodded again, rising from her crouch. The other two men quickly followed.

Alt-ur stood staring at the temple for a long moment. “When do you think you can do this?” he asked, turning to look at the she-demon. The pair studied each other for a moment.

“Tonight,” she said, frowning. “After he has been returned to the dungeon.”

Alt-ur nodded before turning to jump off the roof, landing effortless on the ground three stories below. Cassian and Catrina swiftly followed. Catrina in much the same way as Alt-ur, while Cassian let his wings break his fall. The trio glanced around the alley before Alt-ur started walking, leaving the other two standing in the middle of the street. Cassian quickly followed, making his wings vanish while Catrina just stood there. Cassian was the one who turned back to check on her.

“Catrina, are you coming?” he asked, making her look up from her study of the ground. She half-smiled at him before swiftly joining them. Cassian shot her an odd look before turning to follow after Alt-ur. The god was swiftly making his down the street, seemingly not waiting for them.

“I was just thinking over my plan,” the she-demon murmured, head lowered. “It will be easy, I think. The guards only make rounds every hour. I should be able to get in and out before they go back through the dungeon. If not, there’s only two of them and I’m pretty fast.” Cassian was suddenly worried. She didn’t even seem bothered by the fact that she spoke of harming humans. Then again, it was a reminder that she wasn’t human.

“I hope you know what you’re going to be doing,” he muttered, shaking his head. He didn’t look towards the woman, knowing she was giving him a crooked smirk. He didn’t want to see it. It didn’t reach her eyes, and he knew it probably wouldn’t reach them for a while yet. She was still adjusting to the mortal realm, then.

She gave him a dark look. “I know what I’m doing,” she stated, scowling. “I always know what I’m doing.” Cassian snorted and shot the she-demon a glare. And of course she would say that. The trio made their way back to Alt-ur’s temporary home to wait out the rest of the day. They were going to save their friend. And do whatever it took to do so.

~-~-~

Jakome tore his gaze off the retreating Immortal, turning to meet the amazingly calm gaze of his cousin, Mikel. The boy had a strong stomach--he’d give him that. After all, hadn’t Jakome made the boy in his image? “Come, Mikel,” he said touching the boy on the shoulder as he withdrew. He took note of the boy’s flinch but did nothing to cause the boy any more discomfort. Mikel could barely walk as it was. “Let’s go and enjoy your reward for being a good boy, shall we?”

Mikel followed his cousin without a word as the older male led them back through the maze of halls to the room that Jakome had claimed upon storming the city and swiftly taking it over. He had never asked for such a tormented life, and now he wished for an escape. It seemed that the gods weren’t listening, though. And if they were? Well... If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that they liked watching him suffer, that they enjoyed it, even. Mikel’s calm, if slightly blank, expression fell into a scowl.

Jakome glanced back, noticing the boy’s expression. “Is there something wrong, Mikel?” he asked, apparently extremely concerned. Mikel swiftly shook his head, avoiding his cousin’s look. He knew it was just an act. The Esharian king frowned at him, but Mikel took a step back, neither of them noticing that they had come to a halt in the middle of the hall.

“I’ll be fine,” Mikel murmured, finally meeting his cousin’s gaze. “I just need some air.” And some time away from you. “Meet you back at your room in an hour?” Jakome nodded and the boy quickly made his escape down a side corridor. He didn’t look back to check on his cousin so he didn’t see the dark look Jakome was sending his way. Mikel wouldn’t have cared anyway. He was just glad to get away from the man for a while.

Mikel came to a stop out in the temple gardens. He was thankful that they appeared devoid of guards. It left him alone, with time to think. Without his cousin around, he could finally break down in peace. Or at least, he could try. Out in the garden, it was rather peaceful. He would be safe to relax and think for a little while. Falling to sit on a nearby bench rather than the ground, Mikel sighed. “Finally,” he muttered, “ some peace.” The boy lounged on the bench in silence for several minutes, his eyes trained on the sky.

“Prince Mikel Haverj of Esharia.”

The boy in question jerked upright, startled. Wincing, he looked around the gardens in confusion. Where had that voice come from? The gardens were empty to his left and right, and in front of him. He knew he wasn’t alone anymore, but where had the voice come from? Mikel frowned, pushing himself up onto his feet.

“Behind you.” He span around and froze. A tall, pale-haired woman stood behind him, gazing at him with soft eyes. He stared at her. “Hello Mikel,” she said, smiling. He continued to stare at her for a moment before he scowled and pointed a finger at her.

“Who in all of Ga’hila are you and how did you get in here?” he demanded, backing up a step only to stumble as pain shot up his back and his legs gave out, sending him crashing to the ground, bruising his knees on the stone pathway. He winced, staying on his hands and knees where he was, panting. He’d forgotten about that.

“How I got here is of no concern to you, Mikel,” she replied, moving to sit on the bench he’d just vacated in a panic. “As for who I am?” She smiled mysteriously and gestured for him to join her when he looked up. “My name is Tsura.” She waited for him to get up off the path and sit back down on the bench, which he did slowly and rather gingerly. “And I am the Goddess of Light.” Mikel didn’t know what to say to that, so he settled for some more staring. The woman just kept smiling. “I’ve chosen you for something,” she added, tilting her head as she studied him. “Let me help you with that.” She reached out and place a hand on his cheek, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

Warmth flooded his veins and Mikel slumped towards the goddess, his eyes now half-closed. Tsura smiled at him as she withdrew her hand and the boy shuddered. “W-what was that?” he breathed, eyes fluttering open. He back wasn’t aching anymore. Relieved, he met the gaze of the woman staring at him. She still had a small smile directed towards him and Mikel didn’t quite know what to make of the woman.

“I healed you.”

Mikel raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked her, half-smiling. She nodded. “How did you do that?” Tsura chuckled. “Can I do that too?” This time she let out a full-on laugh, shaking her head at the human boy.

“Maybe,” she said. Mikel blinked at her. That was the reply he got? ‘Maybe’? And just that? He scowled and stood up, pacing away from her for a few steps. The woman calmly watched him as he paced away a few more and then came back to stand before her. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

“Well?” he asked, watching her as she watched him. Tsura stood slowly and smiled at the boy. He frowned at her. The woman was insane. She had barely given him more than two straight answers. The rest were vaguely riddle-like.

“We will meet again, Mikel,” she said with a chuckle. “And then I will give you all the answers you seek.” She brushed past Mikel and he turned to follow her, only to find that she had disappeared. The boy scowled and stamped his foot. Why must the gods and goddesses be so annoying? And vague. Really, she’d barely told him anything apart from who she was and that she’d chosen him for something. As to what that was? Mikel may never know. He glared at the pathway, highly irritated.

A dull thump brought his head up and running footsteps made him turn, only to see a hooded figure running towards him. Mikel yelped and dodged the blade the assassin aimed for his neck, twisting until he could reach his own blade, tucked up against his spine. He whipped it towards the man’s masked face, making him flinch back. A moment later, the hooded figure had hit his arm and was making a run for it. Mikel threw the blade at the man, aiming for his leg. He fell with a strangely feminine yelp.

The boy frowned, approaching the prone figure warily. He paused once, eyeing the figure dressed in dark clothing. It didn’t move, so he approached it again, crouching to remove his dagger from the man’s leg. If it was even a man. It let out a whimper. If he didn’t know better, that would’ve been a girl’s whimper. He stood and backed off, calling for the guards. They came running, Jakome swiftly following them.

“What happened here?” the Esharian king demanded, taking in the scene. Then he paused and took a closer look, taking note of the bloodied blade in Mikel’s hands. “An assassin?” he asked and Mikel nodded. The boy gestured for the guards to roll the figure over, which they swiftly did, before leaning down to rip the mask away---revealing the face of a young woman, twisted in pain. “A girl?” Jakome started laughing as his cousin straightened up and backed away, turning to go to the older male’s side. “Take her weapons off her and put her in the dungeons. I’ll deal with her later.” Jakome turned to head back into the temple, but froze when he noticed a growing patch of red on the arm of Mikel’s pale blue skirt. “Mikel, you’re bleeding!”

Mikel glanced towards his arm, frowning. He let Jakome take his arm in one hand. He winced as his cousin lifted the sleeve of his shirt away from the boy’s arm. Jakome’s gaze narrowed as he took in the wound, peeling the shirt back more. Mikel stared at the blood welling up out of the wrist-to-elbow gash marring his forearm. “Damn,” Mikel whispered, glancing away to look at the stone pathway. There was a not-so-light trail of blood leading from the stone bench, to the pool of blood that marked where the assassin had fallen, and then to where he stood with Jakome. He’d lost more blood than he realised. “Jakome.” His cousin’s name was just a breath, barely audible. But his cousin heard it.

Jakome caught him as he fell, swinging the boy up into his arms. “Go get the healer!” the older male shouted, swinging towards the nearest room. “Mikel,” he whispered, tapping his cousin’s face, ignoring the blood covering his hands. “Don’t you die on me,” he hissed. “Not because of some stupid girl!” Jakome ignored the looks the guards gave him. He was more concerned about his protégé than those stupid men. After all, if he lost Mikel and he didn’t have an heir of his own, who was going to inherit his kingdom?

~-~-~