23 - Caged (Patreon)

Ohsen Ruwena watched through the magical spyglass as the young pair of Adventurers chatted blithely about something inane, he was sure, while they sat and drank from mugs. The annoying pretty boy never seemed to shut up and he was getting annoyed at the wasting of his time when he had research to get done.

He was grateful that Arktis had located the woman’s home on the second floor down from the roof of one of the dorm buildings near the district he lived in. The fact that his niece had almost immediately run into the party leader, who so ignorantly handed over their schedule, was even more fortuitous and he was even more confident in his plan to make the arrogant Wayland pay for taking his little shadow from him.

The Magi checked his pocket watch once more and rolled his eyes as the dawn got closer. He would have a brief window ideally where the idiotic woman would go to sleep and the rest of the city wouldn’t be awake to witness him capturing her.

“Are you sure we should be doing this father?” his son asked and he glanced over to the youth who was so unlike him that he often questioned which man had caught his wife’s fancy before he was born. Perhaps, that Trayvious boy…

He shook his head, “It is that outsider’s fault that your sister is dead,” he spat, “Do you really not care about seeing justice brought to her killer?”

The younger cinderen frowned and muttered, “I’m not sure she was the one who started all of this.”

“It doesn’t matter who started it,” he stated flatly and perked up as the gemite across the street in the other building finally got up to leave, “House Ruwena will be the ones to finish it.”

As he lifted the magical crossbow up to his shoulder and made sure the poison-tipped bolt was securely fastened, the wayward son interrupted his concentration again, “Won’t killing her just make Paladin Wayland come seeking vengeance again?

“People all over the city have been talking about how the Lord serves the Avenger now. Apparently, he’s been wearing his Paladin’s regalia whenever he’s been going to the AOA or working on both Adventurer missions and Temple quests,” the teenager added in a hushed whisper.

“Camrin,” the noble lord began, “I brought you with me for a singular purpose and that was not for talking.”

The youth thankfully snapped his mouth shut and fell silent as Ohsen waited for another quarter hour for the amethyst Defender to walk further down the street and long after the man was out of sight; away from his target’s location.

As he watched the redhead moving from cleaning the dining area and into her bedroom with his enchanted spyglass through the tinted window walls, he reiterated the plan to his foolish son, “Now get ready. Once I shoot, we will need to move quickly. You’ll portal us straight into her room then to the hall outside my workshop.”

“Why not straight into the workshop? There’s less space in the hallway,” the boy grumbled.

“Because my workshop is heavily warded against dimensional magic. Portals won’t work inside it. Were you not paying attention when I gave you the tour that one day? You kept begging me to show you around,” Ohsen chided with a sideways glare.

“I was, like, five and I didn’t realize it would just be a boring old ritual room,” the young portalist complained.

He gave a huff, not wanting to waste even more time arguing about the sophisticated enchantments woven into his most secure room, and resumed explaining his plan as his gaze returned to the woman who was getting ready to climb into the large bed with the ridiculously poofy bird already nestling onto the pillow next to hers, “Just get the timing right and leave the rest to me. She’s only Crystal so she’ll succumb quickly and we can silence her on the other side. Just do exactly what I say when I say it.”

Camrin nodded obediently then Ohsen pulled the trigger of the crossbow and watched as the bolt sped through the short distance between the roof he was perched on and punctured a hole straight through the tinted glass of the Protégé’s bedroom. He smirked as the projectile struck right between the back of her lower right ribs and she stumbled against the bed, spinning around in a wild panic and yanking the bolt roughly from her back, and he knew the barbs on the tip would cause even more damage.

“Now?” his son asked.

“Not yet,” he snapped, quickly storing the crossbow away and watching through his spyglass as the woman seemed to collapse to the ground, still talking for some reason, as her silly Familiar flapped around in a tizzy and he wondered if perhaps the woman was ordering it to go get help. He couldn’t have that, so he ordered, “Now.”

Phoenix finished cleaning up the empty mugs and collected her projects up from the table by the window. The talk with Dazien had been a nice comfort and knowing that she could just talk to both him and Uriel at any time about anything was a reassurance that she hadn’t realized would mean so much to her.

As she made her way to the bedroom she grinned to herself and mentally whispered to her two companions, “Good night.”

She heard twin chuckles return and Dazien commenting, “It’s not really night out here, I can see the sun beginning to rise.”

“Well, my closed eyes won’t know the difference,” she retorted, her long-sleeved nightgown replacing her casual clothes in a brief shimmer of silver light.

“Sleep well, Phoenix,” Uriel said over the connection.

“I plan to,” she muttered and yawned aloud, pulling back the covers of her bed as Tala reemerged to sleep in her usual spot on the large bed that could definitely fit two people.

An odd sound of cracking glass reached her ears right as a sudden sharp pain in her back made her stumble against the bed. Heat began radiating through her from the spot between her ribs and she gasped in shock. She spun to see where the attack had come from but the room was empty and her vision was quickly becoming blurry. Was it Arktis again? Perhaps another assassin? Whoever it was and whatever had struck her, it still hurt.

She tried to grab the weapon still lodged in her back, feeling blood trickling down as numbness followed. It was in an awkward spot but she was able to reach past the normal Mundane limits of flexibility to grasp the shaft and yanked hard to remove the source of her pain. She screamed as flesh was ripped with it, the cruel prongs designed to punish removal, and she fell to her knees as her legs became numb as well, the poison moving quickly through her system. She cried out over the communication bond, “Daze! Uriel! Help!”

She could almost feel the tension and concern as both of them said simultaneously, “What’s happening?”

“I got shot by something,” she tried to explain as her arms gave out next and she fully collapsed to the floor, “It’s paralyzing me. I can’t… move… please… help m-”

Phoenix cut off her words as a light appeared in her room and she glanced towards it to see a ring of ice containing what looked like a furious blizzard within it and a cinderen she didn’t recognize walked through.

She saw a blur of silver speckled blue and purple feathers fly towards the stranger who let out an inhuman snarl and pulled a glowing silver dagger to strike back against the silver talons and beak attempting to inflict Dimension damage. Tears ran down her face as the overtly magical blade struck Tala through the neck and the Familiar burst into white ash, the glow of her skin quickly fading away as additional confirmation of her companion’s destruction.

The stranger gave her a cruel smile that did remind her of someone she knew but her mind couldn’t fully form the connection as her heavy eyelids fell shut.

When Phoenix awoke, she was not in her room any longer. Instead of lying by her bed, she was hanging by her wrists from manacles chained to the ceiling. She could feel the now familiar sensation of the Silencer around her neck as she tried to focus her eyes that still seemed clouded, her mind feeling foggy, and it was her hearing that came back first as she sensed voices through the aftereffects of the poison.

“Where did you even get all this?” came a voice Phoenix instantly recognized as an enemy but was having trouble placing.

“I’ve told you before,” came a much lower and unfamiliar voice, “Do I really need to remind you every time?”

“Didn’t you say this was something those Spirit Reavers use? How do you even know what to do?”

A heavy sigh filled the room, “Soul Reapers,” the masculine voice corrected, “You want to join the main branch but you don’t even remember what we’re currently working towards?”

“Hey, everytime I ask questions it’s all ‘Be silent, Arktis’, ‘Just do as you’re told, Arktis’, ‘Shut up and stab that guy, Arktis’. Nobody ever tells me anything.”

The older sounding one gave an annoyed sigh and answered, “We’ve been helping the Renseres in the city to claim Tulisuda in offering to the Soul Reapers. In exchange, they’re giving us these wonderful devices and allowing our family to join their forces in conquering other realities.”

“What? Why would we do that, Uncle?” Arktis asked, sounding very confused.

“For power, obviously. Our house is going to spread its influence across the cosmos. Not to mention, saving ourselves from utter annihilation. Despite the forces the AOA and world governments are trying to amass, we cannot win against the might of an advanced civilization like the Soul Reapers.”

“But what do the Purifier’s Renseres have to do with that?”

“They asked for the remains of Makera. The fools want to recreate it from the ashes or some nonsense like that,” the assassin’s uncle grumbled then added, “Don’t tell your aunt I said that. Now shut up and put this over there on the circle, Arktis.”

Phoenix finally managed to get her eyes open a crack and was able to observe where she was at. It was a fairly plain stone room with enough space in the center for a large ritual circle and a table by the single metal door with runes etched into it. Actually, it looked like runes were all over the walls, engraved into the stone and faintly humming with power. She could tell they were enchantments that were much more advanced than what even she had dealt with so far.

The Astromancer was trying to think through the haze in her mind and figure out how to escape. She was still in her nightclothes, thankfully keeping both her Soul Mark and Oathbond hidden from view, but the key she had made and put in her belt pouch currently sat in her collection with a handful of other keys. However, the one she had attached to a barrette in her hair seemed to still be there as she hadn’t gotten around to removing it before being interrupted. She was glad she had thought of trying to hide one like that, however, with her hands chained so far above her head, it wouldn’t be subtle for her to grab it.

The captive Wayfarer slowly glanced around to try and figure out the ritual she was currently hanging in the center of but it was one of the most complex designs she had ever laid eyes on. The strange man had mentioned the Soul Reapers used it but she wasn’t sure what the whole purpose might be. Though what some of the symbols translated to wasn't making her hopeful for coming out of this completely intact.

Despite her early run in with Reapers in the Reality Rift shortly after meeting Paul, she barely had any interaction with the looming existential threat. She knew Paul had engaged more, and her two newest party members had as well, but she personally knew very little about the invaders and their recent activities. The big picture goal she had been given was that they wanted to destroy this world by turning Rifts into nukes, which firmly put them into the “chaotic evil” category of her understanding.

What that had to do with her current situation, though, she had no idea. Phoenix would need more information and right now she was at the mercy of what Arktis asked unless the Wayfarer revealed she was conscious but she didn’t want the enemy to start filtering their words and not giving up all their evil plots like good monologuing villains.

“You’re not going to melt her like the last guy are you?” Arktis asked, “Cause I can go if that’s the plan,” and she could see the cinderen placing various Bits and Shards around the circle as the man instructed his niece on their placement.

Phoenix tried to get a better view of the stranger as she heard the older cinderen grabbing something off the table. He lifted a hand that was holding an item that Phoenix actually recognized from her previous encounter with the Reapers. Her shock caused her eyes to open wide and the man noticed the slight movement, giving her a wide malicious grin that she recognized as a replica of Murinah’s as he explained, “This is a Soul Cage. We attach it to her and, if it takes a hold of her soul, she becomes one of the Caged. A mindless monster bent on destruction.

“Since she seems adverse to dying, this will make whatever ability is triggering to fake her death not matter anymore. The Cage will increase her Caste and boost her attributes immensely but lock down the aspects of her soul, meaning no magic for her to escape with. The best part is that we don’t even need to be the ones that kill her. The AOA will do it for us and if we’re really lucky they’ll make Wayland be the one to do it,” he finished, stepping closer towards her.

The horror on her face must have been obvious as the cinderen lord found glee in it. Arktis on the other hand looked at her with a mixture of pity and disgust, obviously not happy with what she had been forced to participate in but apparently resigned to help her family.

Phoenix had a stray thought at the mention of her mentor: What would Paul do? What would a hero do? They wouldn’t just hang here and not fight back. They wouldn’t give up and let themselves be tortured and taken over. When placed against someone more powerful, they would stand and fight. They would struggle until their last breath, sometimes even beyond that according to some of the stories she read. A hero would fight no matter the challenge or cost. She knew that was what she needed to do now.

Despite her fear and self doubt, there was one thing she found her resolve in; she was not going to become caged within her own body again.

PREV          NEXT