Chapter Sixteen

‘Warden Crosis was known for his power. He was said to have the voice of thunder and the body of a mountain. It is here that those who toiled and labored were given a reprieve from their duties.’ 

Seer Creft’s head was groggy, and at first, he wondered if he was blind. He felt the cold rock of the floor below him; within arm’s reach was a cold stone wall. However, he could make out neither of them to identify where he was, so dark was the room in which he found himself.  

He pushed himself up to a seated position but winced as pain surged through his left arm. Reaching over with his right arm, he felt bandage wrapped around his left forearm. He remembered little about his journey here beyond the blurry shadows and buildings rushing past in small bouts of lucidity.  

He also vaguely remembered water or possibly almost drowning as two men struggled to pull him free from the depths. They clearly had succeeded as he was now sitting here feebly feeling around the dark room.  

Creft gently pulled the bandage up, sliding his fingers into the opening. He immediately wished he had left well enough alone. His dirty fingers hit the open wound, making it sting as if he had been poked with a prodding iron.  

Creft pulled his hand back, trying not to yell. He wanted no one to hear him, and he needed a few minutes to think, to gather himself, at least.  

He thought back to where he had been directly before he had woken up here. He remembered being with Creaton and talking of ruling the city together. Creaton was always rather pragmatic and had dismissed the idea altogether as a fantasy. He couldn’t imagine Creft breaking those bonds of society. But being the head envoy was a ploy for him, not a passion, and Creft knew this.  

He pushed the thoughts of Creaton from his head. The man was probably far from here and thinking of their time together wouldn’t help him understand where he was now.  

He remembered falling asleep in Creaton’s rooms, then later feeling the heat of flames. That must have been how his arm was injured¾it was no cut, but rather a horrible burn. Someone had taken the time to salve and bind his arm, so whoever had taken him wanted him alive, or at least, not dead right away.  

Creft tried to blink something into vision, but he still could see absolutely nothing. He raised his good hand in front of his face, but not even his hand was visible in such intense darkness.  

Fear of the unknown finally hit him, overriding his shock. Someone had taken him against his will, and thrown him in a dark, cold room. They may have bandaged his injured arm, but that didn’t minimize the fact they had imprisoned him.  

Creft pushed himself up again, this time with only his good arm, seating himself with his back against the wall. He tried to clear his thoughts. He needed to keep his wits about him, but what good would his wits do against impenetrable darkness?  

Panic gripped him, creating an impression of tendrils of darkness wrapping around his throat, choking him, suffocating him. He began taking deep breaths. His hand rose to his throat searching for the imagined tendrils, but nothing was there. He gasped again, trying to cry out, no longer caring if someone heard him. In fact, he hoped someone heard him¾anyone at all.  

The room seemed as if it was spun¾no, that was his head. He couldn’t make out the room at all. Was he even in a room? What space could be so pitch black?  

Creft heard a creak making his heart jump. Suddenly a small sliver of light appeared through a crack in the darkness. The light fell over a floor of dark gray stone, glinting off a little silver tray. Upon the tray was a small bowl filled with water and a slab of what appeared to be bread.  

Creft scrambled to the tray, relieved he wasn’t blind. Although he was hungry, it was not the bread, but the light he craved. As fast as the darkness had taken his spirit, the light began giving it back.  

He grabbed the bowl, drinking all the water before thinking to use it to moisten the bread, which was so hard it hurt his gums, and he found his mouth so dry he could scarcely swallow at all.  

Creft threw the rest of the bread on the floor. Although he was hungry, he wasn’t willing to tear his mouth to shreds. With the food and water gone, he scooted closer to the little sliver of light.  

This close to the source, he could tell he was behind a metal doorway, and the light was creeping in around the edges of a slot in its center. He reached up and grasped the lip of the slot. The metal was cold and just on the other side of the door, Creft could feel a slight breeze.  

Moving his hand, he pressed his face to the opening, but He could see only a small distance beyond a crackling electric lamp. That told him he was somewhere within one of the districts that used coal lighting, which meant he was no longer in Parian.  

Creft pulled away from the opening. If this was a door, then there should be a handle and maybe he could pry it open. His hand searched in vain along the sides of the wall. He was about to stand to continue his search when he heard a chuckle from the other side of his room. 

Startled, Creft jumped, slamming his back into the doorframe, so hard his teeth rattled. His burned arm seared in pain, but he spared no thought for it. All he could think about was the human-like chuckle coming from the dark. Had they trapped him in with some kind of beast? Was there another man inside the room who had already gone insane from the darkness?  

Creft listened for the laughter again but heard nothing. Suddenly a spark cut through the darkness; it was coming from a lighter that just barely illuminated lines of a face floating in the darkness. The light went out quickly, but he could see the embers from a smoking pipe as someone took a long pull.  

“One advantage of living so close to the mines is you gain a very good night vision. I suppose after some time your eyes will adjust to it too.”  

The voice was raspy as if years of smoke had scratched the throat, but it was easy for Creft to identify the name behind the voice.  

“What am I doing here, Pryce?” Creft asked, his heart rate calming a bit. While it was better to know who he was dealing with, he still wasn’t sure what the man was capable of.  

“Here is a very broad term. I mean, do you ask me why you are here on this continent? Here in the country of Maralay? Directly in the city? Or maybe you just mean why are you here at all in life? I can’t answer any of those questions, Creft. What I can attest to is that you are here in this cell, under Pryce Manor, because you have made the wrong people very upset with you.” Pryce pulled another long hit from the pipe.  

Creft coughed tasting the sickly-sweet smoke filling the air of the chamber.  

“Why did you have me taken?” Creft reworded the question a different way to account for Pryce’s difficult nature.  

Pryce normally did everything in his power to not be seen. It had been years since his last sighting.  

“Short answer, Creft, is that I didn’t.”  

Silence hung in the air, then Pryce continued.  

“Someone else decided you were worth using, and he made the call. I can’t say I am used to listening to others, but I did. He had many good points and I believe he will be right in the end.”  

Creft suspected asking anything further would get him nowhere, but he decided to try anyhow. 

“So, you were paid off? Dirty money for a dirty man.” Creft ground his teeth holding back frustration. He had worked so hard to rally those who would listen to solid facts he had about how Pryce was poisoning the water and air with his coal enterprise.  

“No one could even begin to understand how much I don’t care about money,” Pryce answered. “It isn’t about that; well, at least not fully. I need the money to continue doing what is important to me. Others may do it for the funds, but I have reached a very comfortable position in my life.”  

Every few seconds, Creft would see the orange glow of the pipe, but the light was never quite enough to show the emotions of the man behind it. In the corner where Pryce sat, the room was still completely dark, not penetrated by the small stream of light from the door.  

“So, you didn’t order it, you don’t need the money. Why did you bring me here?”  

Pryce sighed and Creft could hear him tapping the pipe on something. “Just like everything in life, there is a period in time when one must die, and Creft, not yet, but soon will be your time. You have been used up. You will no longer be useful in the greater scheme of things. You played your part, and now you will be pushed aside so others can finish the bigger picture.”  

Pryce took a minute before continuing. “Why did I come down here to visit you? Honestly, I am not quite certain even I know. I felt the urge. I wondered how you would react. Curiosity plays a big part in my life now. I am no scholar, but I like to know things. Helps me predict how other things may turn out.”  

Creft wasn’t sure how to respond to such statements. Seer Pryce imprisoned him under his manor home. He wanted him dead. Most of all, there was nothing Creft could currently do about either of those facts.  

“Nothing to concern yourself over though, Seer Creft. Soon there will be civil unrest amongst the lower civilians. It is a ploy, of course, to keep them busy. Wouldn’t do to have them rise now; plus, it’s a population control measure. Sometimes these hungry mouths become too hungry and it is impossible to sate their hunger. I am sure even you felt that sometimes, being the Seer of Parian. I know you masqueraded as a champion of the people, but even you must have seen the benefit of a little failure of the weak.”  

Creft wanted to unleash the building anger. He wanted to gather the strength to lunge at the darkness where he knew Pryce sat, but he felt his body stiffen at the thought, gripped by pure fear. Terror had overtaken him and now, Pryce would end him. The best he could hope for was a quick blow to end it all.  

“And Krossis, he meant the same to you?” Even though Creft could do nothing with the information, he needed to know. They had been so close to bringing everything down, before he disappeared, and now, Creft would seemingly follow him out.  

“Don’t worry about the overseer, he is right where he needs to be for all of this; just like you are.” Pryce abruptly stood. “I think we will talk again, Creft.” The light from the doorway disappeared leaving Creft back in the darkness. Creft did not hear Pryce leave, but he knew he was alone again.