Taking out the bolt was painful, and released a gush of blood which Xalet had nothing to staunch the flow with. The bolt itself turned out to be mostly useless, unable to even fit in the keyhole on the lock, and trying to leverage it open proved impossible with his injury. The more pressing concern was his bleeding wound. The bolt had at least kept the flow of blood to a minimum, but now he would have to hold the wound closed with one hand unless he wanted to pass out from blood loss. On top of everything, Xalet's fellow prisoner had taken to muttering incoherently to himself and it was just annoying. Time passed, and while Xalet surely tried his best to escape, it was useless. He wasn't going anywhere, his injury was making him weak, and he had been deprived of food and water for who knew how long. At some point Xalet would have to come to terms with everything. With his life, his goddess, with the fact that he would likely be tortured and killed soon, and ultimately with himself. Xuphim, wherever he hid in Xalet's mind, would have to accept it as well eventually. Every now and then the screams of Ser Aaron would echo throughout the cave, but aside from that and the other knight's mutterings, Xalet was alone in silence. It was impossible to know how much time passed, many bells to be sure. The screams of Ser Aaron stopped after a while, but the knight was never returned and Xalet could only guess at what that meant. Surely his turn would come soon? It did. The Ebonstryfe returned, though they did not have Ser Aaron with them. If Xalet asked he would only get a chuckle in return. "Time to go, Akalak." Though he would likely struggle, Xalet couldn't overcome all of his captors unarmed and injured as he was, and he was eventually dragged out of the room and down a long tunnel. There were a few tunnels branching off from the main, all dimly lit by torches, but Xalet could not tell which one might lead out. He was eventually taken to a small room. It was filled with various frightening devices used for torture. A table was laid in the center of the room with clamps for the arms and legs, and there were several wicked tools on another table nearby. Near the far wall was some sort of contraption that looked like it might dangle a body in its center, tied with ropes or chains, and stretch them out at the turn of a lever. There were other cruel devices as well, but Xalet didn't have time to examine them all. He was roughly shoved onto the table, laid on his back and held down while another unchained his wrists so they could be put into the clamps. Before that could happen there was a shout from elsewhere in the cave followed by the sounds of combat. "Go and see what that is," the man who appeared to be in charge shouted at the two men holding down Xalet. "Don't worry about me, I think I can handle one wounded unarmed akalak." After the two men ran off the one in charge turned back to Xalet, a cruel smile on his face. "So, Akalak, are you going to give me any trouble?" The man tapped the pommel of his sword, a long curved blade at his side, then turned away from Xalet, almost daring the knight to attack him from behind. "It's interesting, you weren't on our list. Who are you, and what were you doing there? If you answer all my questions, we can bypass all this unpleasantness and you'll be sent back to your cell with your fellow knight." The man picked up a small, hook-like blade and examined it, his back still turned. "Of course, if you find that too difficult, I'd be more than happy to assist you." Xalet probably didn't see the torture device the man was examining. He probably didn't see the man throw back his head and laugh, his voice echoing through the room over the distant sound of fighting. No, Xalet's eyes would most likely be drawn to something else, something that had not been there moments before. On the table, next to his right hand, was a short, glowing sword, the metal of which was an odd blueish color that deepened to cobalt at the tip. It was probably one of the most beautiful works of craftsmanship Xalet had ever seen, but he didn't have time to appreciate it. In situations such as his people didn't have time to look at pretty blades, much less wonder how they had suddenly appeared the moment their captor's back had been turned. They only had time to act, and that was what Xalet needed to do. Act. |