Bound by Fire

by Ronald Craft

Chapter 22

  Ilian's feet bounced off each step as he was dragged ever downwards into the dark depths. His mind was hazy, and a dull ache in the back of his head prevented him from focusing. His head lolled from side to side, and his arms held no strength.

  Where am I?

  A man stood on either side of him, each with an arm hooked through Ilian's own. Both of the men wore black outfits adorned with golden snakes. Their faces were hidden, except for their eyes. Shadows danced down the stairs ahead of them as a draft of air caused the torches to flicker. They grunted and groaned, but continued on towards the bottom.

  What's going on? Who...

  A hard jolt to Ilian's feet cleared the fog from his mind. He blinked and straightened his head. He dug his feet into the steps and swung his shoulders back and forth, but the two men held him fast.

  “Looks like he's awake,” one of the men said.

  The other one chuckled. “Struggle all you want, boy. Our master will break you soon enough.”

  Ilian kicked and screamed. “Where are you taking me? Who are you?”

  The two men laughed.

  At the bottom of the stairs was a single, wooden door. The man to his right kicked it open and pulled him inside the room. Ilian bit his arm and tried to pull away, but a large fist smashed into his shoulder. He crashed to the floor, landing hard on his side. Ilian tasted blood in his mouth, and his shoulder ached.

  “Damn kid bit me,” said one of the men.

  Pain lanced through his shoulder as they dragged him back inside the room. Walls made of huge stones were covered in chains and tables laden with devices foreign to his eyes filled the room. The smell of urine and sweat overwhelmed his senses and brought tears to his eyes. Blood stains covered the floor and walls. Ilian retched at the odor. He knew what it was this room was used for.

  Torture.

  The pain in his shoulder exploded as the two men slammed him against the wall. They closed metal shackles around his wrists and legs. Ilian yanked against them, but the chains didn't budge. The shackles pinched his skin.

  His voice shook. “Why are you doing this?”

  One of the men turned back to face Ilian, his scarred face screwed into some semblance of a grin. “You'll find out soon enough. Enjoy your stay.” The door slammed shut behind him.

  Ilian was alone.

  What happened? I remember walking into the room. Karena was laying on the bed all patched up. Then...

  The back of his head throbbed in response, as if trying to jar the memory from the depths of his mind.

  Then somebody hit me in the back of the head! Who are these people? What happened to Karena?

  His heart raced, and sweat soaked his body. Ilian took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had to calm himself. It wouldn't do him any good to panic and wear himself out.

  I can't give in. No matter what happens, I will survive this.

  Time passed by and he drifted in and out of sleep. He wasn't sure how long he had been chained to the wall. Hours? Days? Only the aches in his body convinced him he was still alive. He had lost control of his bladder sometime while he was asleep and his legs burned from the residual. Thoughts of water and food consumed his mind.

  Water. I need water.

  The door to the room opened with a sharp creak. A figure covered in a black cloak stood before him. Two golden eyes peered into Ilian's own from within the depths of the hood.

  “At last, we meet.” The figure's voice was coarse.

  Ilian lifted his head. “You know me?” he croaked.

  The man in front of him shed his cloak. It fell to the floor as he walked towards Ilian. His skin was dark as night and twin golden snakes entwined the length of his arms. His hair was unkempt and fell down past his shoulders. He stopped a hands breadth from Ilian and gazed into his eyes.

  “I know you,” the man placed his hand on Ilian's chest, “and what resides within you.”

  Ilian's eyes widened. “Who are you?”

  The man grinned. “I've had many names over the years, but you may call me Thal. I've longed to meet you, Ilian.”

  Ilian bared his teeth. “Let me go.”

  Thal's expression changed. His eyes blazed, and he wrapped his fingers around Ilian's throat. “You're not the one making demands here. I am. You have something I need, something you shouldn't have. I will have it from you one way or another.”

  “What could I possibly—” Ilian choked out.

  Thal moved his hand from around Ilian's throat and placed it on his chest. “The heart of Bale. It's sealed within your body.”

  Ilian stared in disbelief. “What are you talking about? How could Bale's heart be inside of me? That doesn't make any sense.”

  Ilian nearly laughed in Thal's face, but with recent events he had started to question it himself. The flames that burst from his arm, Karena's story about Dagfinn and Bale. It was all too much. Too many unexplained things had happened to him since being dragged away from Lochden.

  Thal growled. “A treacherous mage bound it inside of you when you were just an infant. I've been trying to find you for many years, but your power hadn't awoken yet. It was impossible for me to find you.”

  “Take the heart. I don't want it,” Ilian screamed. “Why would I want something like that inside of me? I never wanted any of this.” His lips quivered.

  When, and how, did a mage seal a god's heart inside of him? For what purpose? Every answer he found only brought forth more questions.

  I'm tired. Tired of secrets and questions about my past. I just want to know the truth.

  Thal shook his head. “It's soul bound to you. There's only one way for me to take the heart.”

  Ilian blinked away the tears. “How?”

  Thal laughed. “Bleed you out.”

  He struggled against his shackles, but they were as strong as ever. “You're mad. Why do you want Bale's heart?”

  Thal slammed both of his hands into the wall and stared into Ilian's eyes. “Because I'm his son.”

  He could feel Thal's foul breath on his cheeks. It stank of liquor. Ilian's heart leapt in his chest and his hands shook. “Wh—What,” he stammered, but the words wouldn't come out.

  “You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this day.” Thal turned away from Ilian, his head facing the ceiling. “I was born into this world a bastard child. Bale never even looked at me. My mother was killed by a thief over a scrap of food. I prayed to the gods, prayed for their help.”

  Thal faced Ilian, his face a mixture of emotion. “You know what I received for my prayers?”

  Why is he telling me this? Does he expect my sympathy?

  Ilian shook his head.

  “Laughter. My own father, a god, laughed in my face.” Thal's eyes narrowed, his lips curving into a sneer. “I vowed I'd have my revenge someday after that. And I did. But, even the joy of that day was stolen from me.”

  He sighed. I'd rather go back to Karena then deal with this bastard.

  “Boy.”

  Ilian looked up into those golden eyes that bore into his own. “Do what you need to do. I don't care anymore. You're pathetic.”

  Thal's hands balled into fists. “You'll soon learn what happens to those that disrespect me.” He smashed his fists into Ilian's face, pummeling him over and over again. His nose broke with a sharp crack, blood spraying onto Thal's face. His ears rang with every punch and the room spun around him.

  Then Ilian was swept away into unconsciousness once more.

  He always seemed to find himself back in the darkness. Ilian feared it when he was a child. His imagination had him convinced that monsters lurked out in the dark, waiting for him. However, he was beginning to welcome it as of late. He could escape into the pitch black depths of his mind and block out reality. There was no reason left for him to stay in the light.

  He belonged in the dark.

  Water splashed over his head, and light poured i
nto eyes. Ilian squinted against the brightness. His head throbbed, and his tongue was swollen from he'd bit it at some point. Water dripped off his hair and ran down his face. He tried to catch what he could on his swollen tongue. The thirst he had felt earlier was even stronger now.

  Thal stood in front of him with an empty bucket in his hand. He tossed the bucket onto the floor and leaned against a table. “My apologies. I get a little carried away sometimes.”

  Ilian didn't know what to make of Thal. He was unstable at best.

  “Allow me to make you more comfortable. You shouldn't be left hanging by those chains.” Thal removed the shackles holding Ilian to the wall. The chains clacked against the stone as each one was undone.

  Ilian slumped forward, unable to hold himself up. The shackles had chaffed his wrists and ankles so badly, they had bled and bruised from the pressure.

  Thal wrapped Ilian's arm around his shoulder and hobbled across the room. “Ilian, there's one thing I wanted to ask you.”

  “Yes?” he rasped. Ilian's throat was dry, his lips cracked and his stomach in knots. The fatigue in his body drained all the strength from his muscles.

  “What's it like?”

  He struggled to get the words out. “What's what like?”

  Thal stopped moving.“Having the heart of a god inside of you. All that power sealed inside of your body.”

  Ilian's voice was just above a whisper. “I don't know what I'm supposed to say.”

  Thal tensed. “You don't know? I know you've used his power before. Come, tell me how it felt.”

  He could feel the knife penetrating his back again, the man kneeling on top of him, his breath against Ilian's neck as he drove the blade deeper. The fear, the anger, the hatred. Even the stench of charred flesh as blue flames burst to life along the length of his arm.

  It all came back to him in a flash.

  He smiled and shook his head. “Terrifying. I never want to experience anything like that again.”

  Thal frowned. “You disappoint me. No matter. You'll soon be gone from my life, and this world, forever.”

  Ilian pushed against Thal's chest, his attempts feeble at best, but the man was too strong. He cried out as some of the hair in his scalp was torn out.

  Thal smiled. “Don't worry. I'll free you of your burden. You can rest easy,” Thal pushed him backwards, “in the afterlife.”

  Ilian stumbled and fell back onto a spiked chair. His flesh was pierced over and over again by hundreds of spikes attached to the wood. Ilian screamed, his eyes wide with shock. Pain ran through his legs and back.

  Thal slammed Ilian's arms into the arm rests where yet more spikes pierced his flesh. He strapped Ilian's arms and legs down and backed away. Thal licked a spatter of blood off his hand and grinned as Ilian writhed in anguish.

  “It's not the quickest or most efficient method,” Thal said, his lips curved upwards into a wicked grin. “You'll bleed out for a day or more. The less you move, the longer you'll live. It's up to you.”

  He could feel the spikes penetrating every part of his body. They tore into his flesh, and blood trickled down his legs. Ilian tried to yell but he was so hoarse the only thing that came out was a weak squeal.

  “It won't be until your life is extinguished that I'll be able to claim what is rightfully mine. I look forward to extracting my father's heart from your body.” Thal picked his cloak up and fastened it back around his shoulders. “If there's any particular god you worship, then now would be a good time to start praying.” He pulled up his hood and closed the door to the room behind him.

  Ilian's breathing was ragged. Even the smallest movement caused the spikes to tear further into his flesh and more of his life to pour out. The pain was excruciating and on several occasions he almost blacked out from it.

  “Looks like this is it,” he said through gritted teeth. Ilian squeezed his eyes shut. “There was so much more I wanted to do. So many unanswered questions.” Snot mixed with blood trickled out of his broken nose. “What did I do to deserve this?”

  The room didn't answer him back. Ilian would've laughed if he could. Here he was, bleeding to death in a spiked chair, talking to an empty room.

  “Bale, what happened with you and Dagfinn so long ago? How did your heart end up inside of me?”

  Silence.

  Ilian smirked, despite the anguish throughout his body. “I didn't think you'd answer me. Coward.”

  Ilian's heart thumped faster in his chest. It pounded against his rib cage as if it was trying to escape his body. It was then that he heard it.

  A second heart beat.

  It beat with an opposing rhythm, loud and strong. His own heart seemed insignificant in comparison. The double heart beats sent blood gushing from his wounds even quicker. The blood loss was making him dizzy, but he held on. He focused on the pain to keep himself conscious.

  You'd call me, the god of destruction, a coward? A voiced echoed through his head.

  “So you're finally awake, Bale.” Images flashed in front of Ilian's eyes.

  There's a reason my past is sealed, boy.

  He nodded. “I know. Tell me anyway.”

  Then, prepare yourself, Bale's voice boomed inside his mind.

  Ilian took a deep breath. “I'm ready.”