Defiance, even obscured by such a pitiable shroud of fragility and apprehension, was still defiance all the same, and Elias could feel his temperament darkening with every word of the boy’s hollow response.
“
No…”
The soldier’s brow arched in reaction, and something akin to a sneer began to take hold on his face.
Still this wretch continued to resist, doing so in his own terribly awkward way, even going so far as to expect some kind of placation for his inevitable cooperation, as if they were actually bargaining.
I’ll do what I want with them, and with you if I so please! The mage wanted to bark, pride and indignation taking center stage as he wrestled internally with his darker nature. It was a struggle to contain himself, but the better part of him won out in the end and the words never found their way past his lips.
Still… the wicked thoughts lingered.
To anyone else, the orphan’s reply wouldn’t have elicited such a heated reaction, for there was little in his tone or meaning that warranted as such, but Elias was a man who saw beyond just words. He was a mage with a mage’s sight, and the boy’s meek rebuttal was overshadowed by the thunderstorm of emotions and ill urges that set his aura’s alight like lightning amidst dark and turbulent skies. He may not have been able to read all of them, or even delve as deep into their meaning as he may have liked to let on, but even so, the youth’s odd mannerisms couldn’t hide the truth of his arcane essence.
The Stryfer knew then and there he would not be able trust a single word the boy would utter.
Some kind of conflict within plagued the whelp, souring his thoughts and turning his mind rotten with doubt. The sorcerer could see it all, and as the auras drew for him a picture that spoke volumes about the boy’s uncertainty and questioned his usefulness, Elias realized with a start how prominent a role auristics had played in their hectic interaction so far. Without a doubt it had made the whole thing a thoroughly strange, if not bizarre ordeal to say the least, but with that price of weirdness however, came a brevity and pointedness that Elias could hardly deny. He'd cut through the chaff of this impromptu interrogation in mere chime would have normally taken a man with mere mortal senses likely bells to realize. He’d been studying the boy like an open book ever since their eyes had first locked, and now the magic that had given him such otherworldly insight was telling him there was little further use for simple conversation anymore. It was time to flip the page and skip ahead to the ending; the one where the little orphan boy revealed all his secrets to the big bad Ebonstryfer.
“
Punishment is not their fate,” The swordsman acquiesced at last, taking another step towards the nameless knave with a renewed air of menace and resolve heralding his approach. He knew exactly what he had to do next. “
In fact, I intend to reward them.” Another step. He had the perfect tool for sussing out secrets like this, and something inside him, something unnatural and divine told him exactly how to use it. “
Like all those fortuitous enough to live their lives under Rhysol’s magnanimous dominion, I will give them the gift all his faithful strive for.” The knowledge was like instinct, burned into him as if he’d done it a thousand times before, and yet this scrawny little whelp was about to have the…
privilege of being the very first.
The pale swordsman was looming over the boy now, his shadow of intent settling upon his victim like a stifling coat. He leaned in, eyes like ice drawing far too close for comfort. “
I will give them purpose.” He breathed, a leathery gloved hand slowly reaching out to take a hold of the slave’s throat. “
I will give them the opportunity... to serve.
Just as I give it to you, now.”
The hand would find its soft target, latching itself around the boy’s flesh and forcing him down unto the bed. Its grip was not a tight and strangling one however, for it would have little need of such crudeness. Something else had accompanied its touch, something not quite as tangible but equally as dangerous. Unfortunately for the orphan, Elias wasn’t just an aurist, but a hypnotist as well, and his magic invaded the lad’s mind without a care for his will or want, instead twisting them both to better suit their master’s whim.
“
You need not waste your breath, slave. I have my own ways of finding the truth. Now... Submit.”
The instructions were sweet and honeyed unlike any spoken by mortal tongue, maddeningly invasive yet impossibly compelling. They burrowed their way deep, finding every avenue and entryway they could to see their compulsion take effect. The obedience the sorcerer expected was not something demanded of his victim however, but simply expected. He played on the boy’s most prominent characteristic; that drowning apathy that clouded everything, corrupting and kneading it to suit his own desire. In the boy’s mind whispered a little voice with a thunderous roar that simply asked
‘whats the point? Why fight it? There no reason to resist. It doesn’t matter anyway.’By then, Elias was already upon the boy, pinning him to the bed with one hand around his neck, and another binding his arms above his head such that he was prostrate and helpless beneath the scarred stryfer towering over. No sense of shame or abashment was enough to stop him, for only a commitment to finding the truth and taking what he wanted drove the Ravokian at that point.
And yet, before the final piece was set into place… hesitation.
Just as he was preparing himself for what was to come next, there was a pause, a slight tremor in the steady wave that had carried him this far so confidently. There was so much to question and consider about using his power like this, and for such wicked reasons, was it really-
The reluctance disappeared in an instant as the
Silkrov marked bit down and began to drink his fill.
As he'd told himself before, doubt was for the weak.
