Convict Fenix

by Alan Brickett

  The notes were scarce on those details because Fenix hadn’t known even then what precisely those plans would be, just that they would be needed if he could get away with his escape the first time.

  It was amazing how much had to be assumed, even if quite rationally and with avid forethought. The contingencies and various plans that were in effect even now, they boggled his mind.

  Which was a good reason why he needed help to escape, also why the notes had such detailed plots and ideas for how to aid him in the attempt.

  Last time, after years of survival and returned memories, he had been close to his prime, close to the power he was when he was convicted. And even then, he had required help for his plan to escape.

  With the notes, Fenix realized he was still only a fraction of his former self. Without the rest of his life, which counted as a very long time, fully remembered, he would remain a fraction.

  So his previous self-had enlisted not only Convenient, but also the creature called Page to prepare for his return.

  **

  The being currently known as Old Man Page had accepted its current existence with a significant degree of patience and complacency.

  Only because once It acquired enough of its memories through continued strife and seeking to overshadow the other beings of this meager realm, It had learned that to act hastily would probably be detrimental.

  Its real name was a long, lilting non-syllabic enunciation in a language that had died along with the worshippers who spoke it, the millions-strong loss of life that had added to Its sentence. They had been part of the very crime which had sent it here in the first place.

  Long lost memories didn’t fill in the details, and the sentencing to this Prison hadn’t helped that process at all, but Page had reacquired enough to get the gist of it.

  Once, a very long time ago, Page had been the deity of a lovely, peaceful people.

  Quite how It had risen to deific status, Page did not recall, but the journey seemed to have been a long one, with deeds of heroic courage and triumph over insurmountable odds. The reverence of the people had turned into worship, and It had risen into the personification of their monotheistic religion where It represented all three of their aspects of life itself.

  Time had been good for a few millennia, Its people hid risen up and conquered their world.

  They built lovely cities, soaring edifices, and many monuments to their benign and illustrious god. Every other religion or cause had been swept aside by the crusade-like activities of Page’s followers. Possibly even another entire race of beings on the world It called home were wiped out.

  Nonetheless, Page was satisfied, whole and complete with the world as a whole abiding by Its thoughts.

  Time passed, and It learned something new.

  It could get bored.

  It took a while of course before It was bored enough to really test the limits of what It should be doing. The first few hundred years, It had toyed with various plots and ploys among the people. Their histories were beset by the tales of demonic entities seeking to overthrow their one true god and the not wholly so lost tales of evil cults and fabrications of heresy.

  With these came invention, and it was during these curious bouts of creativity that Page came to learn of other worlds.

  The very fabric of the universe was built from many layers, like a plant on Its homeworld that, when peeled, came apart in succulent flesh from the outside inward. Except these layers were part and parcel of the universe as a whole, including itself.

  When Page delved through the layers, after finding the correct means through excessive experimentation, It found that other worlds could be reached.

  It may have been overeager in Its explorations, or perhaps in the resulting meetings with new worlds. If fate had been kinder, then maybe It would not have met with such poorly protected worlds at first, ones which had been so easy to conquer over the next few hundred years.

  Its people were able soldiers, their culture one of triumph over adversity, even if that adversity was created by their god.

  If Page had met with stiff resistance, perhaps even other beings of great power, It would have learned to rather watch and gather more knowledge, and power, before venturing so far and so quickly.

  When Page did finally come across a group of allied worlds, all linked through a nexus of planar conduits, It did as it had always done.

  It attacked.

  There were warnings given, envoys sent to speak of peace and such trifles as the holders of law and order among the planes and so on. It had ignored them, sometimes even consumed them in ostentatious experiments to send a message.

  Page thought It had been winning, which, on reflection, It probably had been. Until the other godlike beings had stepped in to stop It.

  Forced back and made to listen to their words in a vigorous battle that shook that part of the cosmos, It was given a tirade.

  The lecture had been long, in summary, they helped to govern the various planes and sought to keep the peace. Page could do whatever It liked within Its own domain and the planets It had conquered.

  But Page would not engage in inter-planar war any further. It complied, at least at first, for appearance's sake. Page plotted and schemed all the while to find a way to overcome these law bringers.

  With cunning and sheer devilry, It concocted schemes within schemes; It sowed dissent on dozens of worlds and forced uprisings to distract these heralds of universal order. When the chaos was rampant, It struck, from out of what It now understood to be a very small nook of the universe.

  The resulting battles lasted a few short years, a pittance in the lifespan of such a being, but telling in effect.

  The other beings powerful enough to stop Page, did.

  They reigned It in and smothered all of Its aspirations in an overwhelming surge of reactionary fighting. In a pique of frustration and indeed, desperation, It consumed the lives of every follower it had in a bid to rise above the gathered powers that thwarted Its advance.

  Page lost regardless.

  It was humbled, broken and battered down to a minute representation of Its former self, then brought to trial. Judged by beings who had no place to do so, Page was sentenced to the extreme punishment reserved for the worst of the worst.

  And yet the judges had deemed it better to send It here instead of ending Its existence. And so it was done, Page was reduced to this pale and weak extrapolation of Its former glory and sent to fast among the wretches.

  Page eked out Its life on the Vitae of the convicts, of the others also sentenced here for various horrific crimes only they could know. It cared not for their paltry deeds, only Its own were of sufficient worth. And with the years came back the memories, enough challenge existed for Page in this meager form to push even Its limits.

  So Its memories returned.

  To seek out non-existence was contrary to Its nature in every way. It would not willingly take a course of action which would lead to Its death. But even with the time it took to get back Its memories, It knew the primal core of Its being was to grow and return to what It once was.

  That force and Its will pushed it to the inescapable goal from this inescapable Prison.

  It. Wanted. Out!

  But not before Page knew what was happening in the multiple realms outside.

  To step out blindly would be to become a target, not only for those law bringers who would seek to send It back inside the Prison but also for all of those other beings such as itself, who would see it as vulnerable.

  Which Page would be if It managed to divest itself of these confines. In Its current state, Page was a paltry shadow, unable to mount enough defense to stave off even one godling.

  What It needed most was more information on the events outside the Prison so that It could plan. It was good at being patient, and reigning itself in, to be unnoticed. It practiced that every day, staying in the shadows, working as another of the denizens of this fetid hole.

  Being another
mortal among these lower life forms grated at It, but dignity was not necessary for survival.

  So Page bided Its time, It made alliances and plans with lesser creatures, and It sought to learn what It could for when it would escape.

  **

  Fenix arrived in the clearing amid Page’s servants who carried various items about, placed some just so, and replaced them when ordered.

  It was quite a strange tableau as if some sheik from the desert had instead chosen to set up a tent in a forest. There were carpets, trunks and well-made chests of wood all dotted with precious metals.

  Pillows both large and small dotted the area, an enormous pile of them served as the comfortable place where Page nestled. Wrinkled hands waved away the nearest attendants, sending them backing off quickly so that its view was unobstructed.

  Fenix noted that the attendants had no specific theme to them, except that they were all broken and servile. It seemed that Page had no interest in gender or race, just obedience and likely his hunger.

  Fenix remembered it well, now from memory and having seen it when he arrived. He had not forgotten the blue being’s strange capabilities, nor Convenient’s warning. He also remembered why he needed Page, specifically, for the escape plan.

  Page had a unique capability which the Warden was interested in.

  “So, you have come to find me then, gray skin?” The voice cracked and withered the air.

  Fenix nodded, taking a moment to hold to his self-control. “Yes, I have remembered what you seek, and what we agreed to do.”

  It chuckled, dry and rasping.

  If it weren’t emitting such an aura of power Fenix would have mistaken it for dying of old age. It lay there among the pillows like a decrepit old being, fluffed up between plush cushioning.

  “Excellent, that is excellent. I have been preparing while you were gone, despite the nuisance of that pink-skinned man.” Page smiled, no teeth, just a drawing up of the lips which seemed disproportionate to how much they should have moved. Any ordinary mortal would have found the sight to be very unnerving.

  Fenix ignored the jibe about Convenient, as far as he was concerned Page had done everything he could to the old knight already. Everything else was just to get a reaction from him, and he wouldn’t be so easy to bait.

  “I am ready for the grand plan, the attack. “ Page continued, unaware of Fenix’s mood. “I have my servants, and I have prepared myself as well. All that awaits is the information you promised me and your side of the attack.”

  “I have a few other visits to conclude, and then I will rejoin you at the meeting point.” Fenix gestured around. “Are you sure that these will be capable?”

  “Oh they will, I assure you. I may take much, but what I give in return serves them well, enlivens them, if only for a short while. They will do, while they last.” Page’s hairless head poked back and forth as it observed its servants.

  “Now speak, tell me what I want to know, then we must get started.”

  Fenix began to spin his tale, some truths, mostly half-truths and outright lies, whatever it took to convince Page that it was safe to escape.

  He needed the decrepit entity as leverage.

  **

  With the ever so soft sheets wrapped up around her waist Fenix had a good view of long legs, firm skin over taught athletic muscles, Quelina’s ripe breasts, and her curious expression.

  It was a sight worth enjoying, so he did, even after arriving late the previous evening and taking all night to bring rapture between the pair of them. He was resting now, but it was still enjoyable to consider what else they might even do together, depending on how the conversation went.

  “You are, still, a strange one my lover.” She spoke softly, a hint of a question in her tone.

  Fenix smiled, his eyes roving over the raised nipples she sported and the light bruising she had begged him for.

  “Am I?”

  She smiled languorously back at him, shifting around under his astute gaze. She preened like a tigress, the sensuality she preserved in large part due to knowing how much she could also enjoy his ardent interest.

  “I’m not going to butter you up, we did that already, and metaphorically I don’t think you need a bigger ego. Of course you are, you have something in mind, and this parley with me was just the opening of our conversation wasn’t it?”

  “It was.” Fenix thought about his plan, he ran it through his head.

  “I have a proposal for you.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t be the first to try and get a good whore to go straight,” she purred.

  “Ah, not that kind of proposal.”

  “Hmmmm, and you didn’t even blush. I do so enjoy seeing if I can get you to express yourself with wild abandon. Things would be on an entirely different level if you could just lose control for a little while.” She shifted around, stretching her legs apart with her arms raised up to illustrate what delights were on offer, again.

  He smiled back at her, putting some kindness in it and not any faked wistfulness. “I would you know, except that in here I must keep my wits, I must be myself. If I lost myself to you, then I would lose my identity.”

  “You see, how very different you are. You recognize the danger, and I so love that, it makes the game so much more interesting. You know, and yet even knowing you skirt that danger, that edge of disaster, it is so delightful. The others who know will avoid me, they will simply not take the chance, or they will try to brutally take everything from me. But you maintain the balance.”

  He responded to the hunter’s glint in her eyes with his own feral grin.

  Yes, he knew, between the last time and this one it was clear.

  If she could, Quelina would possess him body and soul, make him her servant with only the modicum of independence, just the façade of free will. He respected her for that, and for how she survived in the Prison; for that alone, he was giving her this choice.

  Out of respect for another manipulator, another one who survived by whatever means necessary.

  “I have come to you with information and an offer.” He spoke slowly, keeping her gaze locked on his.

  A dainty eyebrow raised itself beneath one of her backswept horns, not in mockery, just curiosity. “Do tell lover, I would dearly enjoy hearing all about it.

  So he told her his plan, the exact details he kept a little vague, but he did describe the main steps. His alliance with Old Man Page, how he planned to attack the Emerald palace after he got rid of the Warlock.

  She listened attentively, a tribute to her respect toward him was that she didn’t laugh or play it off as a jest, she listened, and her expression turned more serious as he went along.

  “You really believe you can do this? That you can escape?” She asked when he was done.

  “I do.”

  They sat now, still on the bed, she had the sheets over her legs, and the scant scarf wound its way over her upper torso, caressing the skin as it usually did. There was little of the erotic going on, aside from the sight of her, they were now discussing in deadly earnest.

  She seemed to be uncertain of his grasp on reality; what he needed her to understand was that he was not insane or merely hopeful.

  “I have done it before; I escape the Prison once, a long time ago,” he admitted.

  This startled her; he noticed the slight widening of her eyes. “You did? You actually did, or at least you believe you did. I can tell from the certainty in your mind!”

  He just gave a chaste smile; it had the desired effect because hers grew wider.

  “So why tell me?” She asked.

  “I want you to have the information so that at worst you do not interfere, at best you may be able to take control where I leave a power vacuum and keep anything else from trying to take up the opportunity. I will be creating a lot of noise, and any semi-powerful convict with ambition might try to get in at the last moment.”

  “Why would I interfere?” He didn’t believe the innocent expression she port
rayed in the slightest.

  “Whether Old Man Page escapes or is killed in the attempt, he will no longer be a threat, and the Warlock, well let’s just say I have a score to settle there, and it coincides with the obstacle that Torn and the Warlock represent to a prisoners uprising.”

  He stopped a moment to let the idea sink in. “An enterprising being might find the opportunity to act on such a change in circumstances. She might even decide to take action to solidify her own power base in such an opening. Or, if she chose to, she could try to escape or try to get in at the last moment.”

  Quelina’s eyes sparkled. “She might.”

  “I need you to hold off until I am done, until the whole affair has finished, before you take over.” He tensed without showing it with his body. At this point, he would see if she went along with it or not. If not then he would need to eliminate her, a problem possibly, but one he could handle.

  She gave it some thought before answering. “And let us say that I consider this, what is it that you offer me in return?”

  “I’m betting that you don’t want to leave that badly,” he replied. “And I do have another option for you.”

  “Do tell.” She waved a hand carelessly, but he knew he had her undivided attention.

  “Use your telepathy, link your mind to mine, and learn about the Emerald palace as I do. With the information you get you can decide what you want to do. And if I escape you will learn how as well, with no danger.”

  He waited while she thought about it.

  When she responded she was musing. “You are right my dear Fenix. I don’t need to get out of here, not in any rush. I haven’t regained nearly enough of my memories to tell what is out there or why I am here. I get the impression of a vast expanse of deeds, but I cannot pin them down. Some things are clear, others that I feel are important are far less so.”

  “I have a dream, isn’t that strange, here in this Prison I dream of one day ruling over it all, building a community under my guidance. It is so well positioned among the planes, a veritable haven. Funny that, a haven made from a Prison. But that is one day, for now, I agree, I would not join you in a charge against the Warden, but I would like to learn everything I can about it. You never know what might be of value to me.”