Cry Havoc
①
The stink of rot and mold fills my nostrils. I frown and shake my head, as if that will clear the darkness obscuring my vision. Occasionally I forget that I am blinded, typically when the burns are calm and placid, and I merely believe I’m trapped in a lightless room. Now is not one such time.
My stomach twists and aches piteously, begging for sustenance I cannot grant. Thoughts of feasting, of delicious food, have long since overwhelmed thoughts of escape. I fear that if I were to be given the choice between a meal and freedom, I may just hesitate.
Trembling slightly in the cold, I curl tighter around my legs. By the Fates, my kingdom for a reprieve!
Damn. That joke lost its humor after the first two hundred years.
A foreign scent joins the stench, that of flesh and blood. A faint pulse of life force crosses the expanse standing between me and the newcomer. A mortal, then, and one rather out of place.
A sharp pang twists in my chest and words burst from my cracked lips. “Mortal!” Quickly enough I regain some modicum of control over myself. I say, slightly more calmly, “I would greatly appreciate it if you helped me.”
“Help you?”
Ah, a young man, judging by the tone. A young, offended man, who may just leave me here.
“Yes!” This is no time for my pride to get in the way. “I’ve been in here for so long, so stay with me, please, even if it’s just a false promise, even if you’ll only stay for a moment...”
That said, I am rather displeased by my lack of self-restraint. Surely one thousand years alone wasn’t enough to erode it completely?
“Fine.”
“You will? Thank you!” A grin spreads across my face, no matter how demeaning the concession is, and I pull myself out of my huddled ball.
“Stay back!”
“Ah.” That was a little uncalled for, mortal, wouldn’t you say? That said, I’ll do as he asks. That is the worst indignity, but my sanity calls for his companionship desperately. “Yes, right, sorry. I’ll stay over here.”
“Tell me how you did it.”
“Hmm? Did what?” ‘It’ could refer to any number of things. Not all of them entirely pleasant, granted, but… The most likely option is the most repugnant. A frown twists my lips. “Oh, yes. My disgrace.” That is putting it mildly. “I’d rather not discuss that.”
The mortal shifts and –“Hey, please don’t go! Please!”
Starless hells, how can a mortal already cause such a panic within me? I’ve grown so weak.
“Then talk.”
“Thank you. I — Thank you. I’ll answer your every question, just don’t leave me.”
He waits for me to speak again. I swallow thickly, wincing as the sensation of broken glass and a millennium of thirst tears my throat to shreds. “I’m sure you’re aware of the stories?”
“Who isn’t?”
I laugh bitterly. “They’re wrong. Entirely. Utterly.” Before the mortal can get angry with me again and threaten to leave me here, I hasten to explain, “That’s not to say I did not do bad things, no, I know and accept that I’ve harmed people. Done wrong…” And done wrong I have. By the stars…
“Get to the point, demon.”
“The point? Oh, I apologize. It’s been so long, I tend to get sidetracked.”
“Just don’t do it again. Keep talking.”
I swallow again, the same burn building. “Yes, the story you know is wrong. I did not usurp the throne, I had every right to rule, but I did not rain misery upon the kingdom, and I did not torture any of my subjects.”
“You lie!”
My heart squeezes painfully. By how much have the stories changed, if that is my legacy? I did horrible things, but I never tortured anyone… No, I refuse to think on that. Instead, I mollify the mortal as best I can. I quote what my sister said when she first imprisoned me. “No, what I did was rather more visceral and personal in its cruelty. Unforgivable.” That is not entirely a lie. I hope it's an outright lie, but obviously it is not. It hurts, a deep throb in my chest, that my geas allows me to say those words.
A long pause draws out. If not for the steady pulse of life energy seated in front of me, I would worry that the mortal has left me alone. He's waiting for me to continue, I realize belatedly. He wants to know everything.
A bud of shame plants its constricting roots in my throat. “I began by locking my fellow diarch, my own sibling, in a dungeon and ruling in her steed, as her. A simple illusion spell and you mortals were none the wiser. Well, I say that, but surely you realized something was amiss when your beloved queen agreed with her brother to reinstate the death penalty and threw nobles to the dungeons.”
“I am well aware of that practice. You imprisoned my entire family!”
“Did I?” I search my memories and my blood goes cold. “Wait, are you of the House of Aenem?”
“Yes, I am.” His voice is a growl. “Abraham Gloris Aenem.”
“Oh! I – I am so sorry, young one.” And I am, truly. “For want of power, I ruined your family... I... You may leave.”
“You want me to leave?”
“No, hardly. An ache for companionship still weighs in my chest like a bundle of thorns, but you need not stay and hear a monster speak of past transgressions and bemoan his just punishment.” I move back as far as I dare, being sure not to cross the boundary of my prison. “I doubt you care about my reasons and excuses.”
“You just don’t want to face your guilt.”
“What? No! No, that’s not my intention at all, I—” I shake my head. “Ugh. I’ll continue, if that’s what you would rather.”
“Keep talking, demon.”
“I eliminated any potential rivals and convinced anyone who may have recognized my efforts and thwarted them. Obviously I failed to secure my victory completely, else I would certainly not continue to rot in this prison.”
“You damned beast!” He roars. “You deserve this!”
I never said I didn’t, mortal. Of course, I keep the acerbic comment to myself. As much as I don’t deserve company, I can’t bring myself to force him away. “You’re absolutely correct. I have no excuse. I have no means of redemption, of apologizing. That is my burden to bear for eternity.”
“Eternity?”
“Yes, eternity.”
“I’ve heard enough.” For a moment his voice had been soft, filled not with compassion but something like surprise, but now it is cold and bitter. The sound of dirt and pebbles shifting echoes as he stands and steps back.
“Hey, wait, please!” I shout. “I answered your questions! Wait until night fall at least, I beg you!”
“Wild and wicked creature,” he growls. “Stay here and serve your sentence.”
“Just because I understand I deserve punishment doesn’t keep me from longing for interaction,” I cry. “You’ve another hour to spare, at the least? No?”
“No.”
With that, all my hopes flee. “I… I see.”
Even as he moves away, I continue to speak to him, even if he will ignore me. “I’ll be here tomorrow, and the next day, and for eons hereafter, if you change your mind. I have a wealth of knowledge. I could answer so many questions.” He’s gone, but I scream so that he may hear me as he walks away. “You could yell at me if you wish, mortal!”
Silence falls upon me like a predator, preying on my shredded sanity. Softly, more to myself than to him, I call out, “Good bye.”
My stomach twists and aches piteously, begging for sustenance I cannot grant. Thoughts of feasting, of delicious food, have long since overwhelmed thoughts of escape. I fear that if I were to be given the choice between a meal and freedom, I may just hesitate.
Trembling slightly in the cold, I curl tighter around my legs. By the Fates, my kingdom for a reprieve!
Damn. That joke lost its humor after the first two hundred years.
A foreign scent joins the stench, that of flesh and blood. A faint pulse of life force crosses the expanse standing between me and the newcomer. A mortal, then, and one rather out of place.
A sharp pang twists in my chest and words burst from my cracked lips. “Mortal!” Quickly enough I regain some modicum of control over myself. I say, slightly more calmly, “I would greatly appreciate it if you helped me.”
“Help you?”
Ah, a young man, judging by the tone. A young, offended man, who may just leave me here.
“Yes!” This is no time for my pride to get in the way. “I’ve been in here for so long, so stay with me, please, even if it’s just a false promise, even if you’ll only stay for a moment...”
That said, I am rather displeased by my lack of self-restraint. Surely one thousand years alone wasn’t enough to erode it completely?
“Fine.”
“You will? Thank you!” A grin spreads across my face, no matter how demeaning the concession is, and I pull myself out of my huddled ball.
“Stay back!”
“Ah.” That was a little uncalled for, mortal, wouldn’t you say? That said, I’ll do as he asks. That is the worst indignity, but my sanity calls for his companionship desperately. “Yes, right, sorry. I’ll stay over here.”
“Tell me how you did it.”
“Hmm? Did what?” ‘It’ could refer to any number of things. Not all of them entirely pleasant, granted, but… The most likely option is the most repugnant. A frown twists my lips. “Oh, yes. My disgrace.” That is putting it mildly. “I’d rather not discuss that.”
The mortal shifts and –“Hey, please don’t go! Please!”
Starless hells, how can a mortal already cause such a panic within me? I’ve grown so weak.
“Then talk.”
“Thank you. I — Thank you. I’ll answer your every question, just don’t leave me.”
He waits for me to speak again. I swallow thickly, wincing as the sensation of broken glass and a millennium of thirst tears my throat to shreds. “I’m sure you’re aware of the stories?”
“Who isn’t?”
I laugh bitterly. “They’re wrong. Entirely. Utterly.” Before the mortal can get angry with me again and threaten to leave me here, I hasten to explain, “That’s not to say I did not do bad things, no, I know and accept that I’ve harmed people. Done wrong…” And done wrong I have. By the stars…
“Get to the point, demon.”
“The point? Oh, I apologize. It’s been so long, I tend to get sidetracked.”
“Just don’t do it again. Keep talking.”
I swallow again, the same burn building. “Yes, the story you know is wrong. I did not usurp the throne, I had every right to rule, but I did not rain misery upon the kingdom, and I did not torture any of my subjects.”
“You lie!”
My heart squeezes painfully. By how much have the stories changed, if that is my legacy? I did horrible things, but I never tortured anyone… No, I refuse to think on that. Instead, I mollify the mortal as best I can. I quote what my sister said when she first imprisoned me. “No, what I did was rather more visceral and personal in its cruelty. Unforgivable.” That is not entirely a lie. I hope it's an outright lie, but obviously it is not. It hurts, a deep throb in my chest, that my geas allows me to say those words.
A long pause draws out. If not for the steady pulse of life energy seated in front of me, I would worry that the mortal has left me alone. He's waiting for me to continue, I realize belatedly. He wants to know everything.
A bud of shame plants its constricting roots in my throat. “I began by locking my fellow diarch, my own sibling, in a dungeon and ruling in her steed, as her. A simple illusion spell and you mortals were none the wiser. Well, I say that, but surely you realized something was amiss when your beloved queen agreed with her brother to reinstate the death penalty and threw nobles to the dungeons.”
“I am well aware of that practice. You imprisoned my entire family!”
“Did I?” I search my memories and my blood goes cold. “Wait, are you of the House of Aenem?”
“Yes, I am.” His voice is a growl. “Abraham Gloris Aenem.”
“Oh! I – I am so sorry, young one.” And I am, truly. “For want of power, I ruined your family... I... You may leave.”
“You want me to leave?”
“No, hardly. An ache for companionship still weighs in my chest like a bundle of thorns, but you need not stay and hear a monster speak of past transgressions and bemoan his just punishment.” I move back as far as I dare, being sure not to cross the boundary of my prison. “I doubt you care about my reasons and excuses.”
“You just don’t want to face your guilt.”
“What? No! No, that’s not my intention at all, I—” I shake my head. “Ugh. I’ll continue, if that’s what you would rather.”
“Keep talking, demon.”
“I eliminated any potential rivals and convinced anyone who may have recognized my efforts and thwarted them. Obviously I failed to secure my victory completely, else I would certainly not continue to rot in this prison.”
“You damned beast!” He roars. “You deserve this!”
I never said I didn’t, mortal. Of course, I keep the acerbic comment to myself. As much as I don’t deserve company, I can’t bring myself to force him away. “You’re absolutely correct. I have no excuse. I have no means of redemption, of apologizing. That is my burden to bear for eternity.”
“Eternity?”
“Yes, eternity.”
“I’ve heard enough.” For a moment his voice had been soft, filled not with compassion but something like surprise, but now it is cold and bitter. The sound of dirt and pebbles shifting echoes as he stands and steps back.
“Hey, wait, please!” I shout. “I answered your questions! Wait until night fall at least, I beg you!”
“Wild and wicked creature,” he growls. “Stay here and serve your sentence.”
“Just because I understand I deserve punishment doesn’t keep me from longing for interaction,” I cry. “You’ve another hour to spare, at the least? No?”
“No.”
With that, all my hopes flee. “I… I see.”
Even as he moves away, I continue to speak to him, even if he will ignore me. “I’ll be here tomorrow, and the next day, and for eons hereafter, if you change your mind. I have a wealth of knowledge. I could answer so many questions.” He’s gone, but I scream so that he may hear me as he walks away. “You could yell at me if you wish, mortal!”
Silence falls upon me like a predator, preying on my shredded sanity. Softly, more to myself than to him, I call out, “Good bye.”