Chapter 12: In the Citadel's Dungeon

~Winrol Citadel, Kingdom of Vasilosse~

The throne room was empty, save for King Bartholomew sitting sluggishly, tapping his round fingers on the telephone resting on a small table next to his lavish chair.

The door opened, and in came William. “Father,” he greeted him coldly, still bitter about their last meeting.

“Come, William. We shall wait for your brothers to start this meeting.”

“Only us? No officers?”

“All of my high-ranking officers have already been informed of the message I am about to relay to you.”

William nodded subtly and crossed his hands behind his back, waiting awkwardly for the others to arrive. A few minutes later, both Windfrey and Wren entered the throne room together. The three brothers stood in a line, all looking directly at their father, waiting for him to give the reason for their summon.

“My sons, I have gathered you here today, because I have received important news from my most trusted subordinates,” said the king. “I have been informed by Admiral Zube that Luck Reas, son of Travis Reas, is now in our custody. Unfortunately, it seems Travis’s son escaped, along with four of the other fugitives. The sixth one, responsible for Commander Blacke’s injury, has also been apprehended. Both he and Luck Reas are currently being transported to the citadel, where they will be held captive.”

William was the first one to respond. “I see. That is good news indeed. With one more of his relatives in our hands, Travis Reas is now more likely to show himself.”

“Correct. And when he does, I will finally be able to obtain the treasure of the stars.”

William nodded in agreement and was the only one of the three princes to show enthusiasm for their father’s plan.

Windfrey, as was expected of him, threw his arms open in disagreement. “Why, father!”

Bartholomew glared at his youngest son. “I have explained the significance of the treasure of the stars and the necessity of having Travis Reas to find it to you countless times. If you refuse to understand the intricacies of kingship, I ought to remove you from any future meeting.”

“I understand your position very clearly, father. The problem lies with your lack of understanding of the situation.”

“Do not insult me, child.”

“What if Travis Reas doesn’t come out? What if your hostages end up pointless? What if he’s already dead? Your entire fragile plan lies on the foundation that a man who disappeared over a decade ago will help you find something that might not exist in the way you think it does. You’re in a dream, father, and greed is preventing you from waking up.”

The king rose to his feet, slamming his fist on the arm of his throne, a reaction only Windfrey seemed to be able to conjure out of him. “Enough! You bring shame to the Soffle name with your impudence!”

William smirked cockily at his younger brother. “Truly, brother, what has gotten into you? You should be thankful father still treats you with such respect, giving you confidential information, allowing you to partake in meetings, etcetera. Your tantrums are very childish.”

“Oh, shut up, William,” retorted Windfrey. “It’s a secret to no one that you do all in your power to suck up to father, so he’ll favour you above us for any future consideration. Drop your act.”

“Tsk! You would insult your own brother?”

“Nothing that is beneath you.”

“Quit bickering among yourselves!” shouted the king. “Wren, you have yet to speak. What are your thoughts on the situation?”

Wren shyly looked up to meet his father’s old, wrinkled eyes. “I’m not sure…”

“What do you mean? Surely your head is not devoid of thoughts? You, as my heir, should be more proactive in voicing your opinion on important matters such as this one.”

“I… I think if all fails, if Travis Reas doesn’t come out even with his family’s life on the line, that you should reevaluate your course of action.”

“I see. And what other plan do you propose?”

“I’m not sure about that… I haven’t really thought about it.”

“You should. You are my heir, Wren, and while I still sit on the throne, your time to grace its seat will eventually come. I would like you to be prepared when that day comes.” While speaking clemently to his firstborn, Bartholomew made a point to look over at William, to make his position clear regarding inheritance.

“Yes, father.”

“Now, there is one more thing before you are all dismissed.” He turned to face Windfrey. “The prisoners are being transported separately to the capital, but they should both have arrived by tomorrow evening. In two days’ time, an announcement will be made to publicly disclose the capture of Luck Reas. The news will travel the five kingdoms, fortifying us as the frontrunners in the race for the treasure of the stars.”

“So, it’s a show of force to the rest of the world?” asked William.

“Precisely. And the one to make the announcement will be you, Windfrey.”

The young prince twisted his face in revulsion at the thought of issuing such baffling news to a mostly clueless public audience, just to try and scare other rulers across the seas. “I will not.”

“You will.”

“The podium will be empty the day of the announcement. Find someone else.”

“No, it must be you. You must be thought a lesson in ruling and in humility. I am not just your father, but your king. You will obey me or suffer the consequences.”

“And what consequences might you have in store for me?”

“If you insist on being stubborn, I will have both Reas prisoners killed after they have outlived their usefulness.”

“How could you!”

“Remember, Windfrey, all subjects in the Vasilosse Kingdom are the king’s to do whatever he pleases with. If you do not comply with my orders, their lives will be forfeited. Their lives now rest in your hands.”

William’s devious smile stretched as far as his face muscles would pull. “Good luck, brother.”

Windfrey stormed out of the throne room before he was given permission to, before his anger forced him to speak out of turn even more.

Later that day, a knock came at the door of Windfrey’s room. It was his older brother, Wren, standing discreetly in the doorframe.

Windfrey opened the door and lazily walked back to his bed, on which he fell face first to muffle his grumbling.

“Brother, I need your help,” meekly said Wren.

Windfrey turned to free his mouth from his mattress. “With what?”

“How do I say this… Brother, this life does not suit me. Between you and I, I was never meant to be royalty.”

“What do you mean?” Windfrey sat up, concerned with his brother’s sudden confession.

“I-I don’t want to be a prince. I don’t want to be the heir to the throne. Being a king, it’s just too much for me. I can hardly stand to watch father do it.”

“Yes, but you are not father. Truthfully, since mother passed away, you’ve been the only family I feel I can trust, Wren.”

“Really?”

“Father and William… They’ve been corrupted by avarice. Father is not a true king. He couldn’t care less about the people or the kingdom. All his eyes are set on is the treasure of the stars, a legend on which he desperately clings to a perverted version of, all for personal gain. And William is even worse. He wants to rule only to feel what it’s like to stand at the top. I fear if he one day becomes king, he will be far worse than father.”

“But brother, don’t you also seek the treasure of the stars?”

“Yes, but I believe it is far more than a pile of gold or a relic that grants power. I believe it can be used to better the world, starting with our kingdom. If I can’t find it, which is a possibility I’ve never been afraid of, I will nonetheless strive to be a good king.”

“You wish to be king, too? Just like William. Am I the only one who is afraid?”

“It is true that I want to be king, more than anything else in fact. For as long as father warms the throne, the Vasilosse Kingdom cannot heal from the scars it suffered under his reign. However, I’m not so foolish to think I can be king, not in many years. When father dies, you will inherit the throne. And Wren, the fact that you are afraid to wear the crown proves to me that you are indeed the best suited person for the task.”

“Why do you say this? I can barely think on my own, how can you expect me to rule a kingdom?”

“A king doesn’t need to be alone. You take father as an example when you shouldn’t. He takes far too many decisions without considering the repercussions they might have in the long term. Common are the times he doesn’t hold a meeting with his officers before passing a law or making any sort of meaningful decision. I know you would never be so rash.”

“Brother, your words and trust are touching, but I didn’t come to you for encouragement.”

Windfrey sharpened his ears and kept his mouth closed.

“I don’t want this life anymore, brother,” said Wren, teary-eyed from the stress of expectations. “I want to run away.”

“Where to?”

“I-I don’t know. Anywhere. Anywhere that’s not here. Someplace where I’m not heir to a throne. Someplace I can just live my life the way that I want.”

“I understand how you feel, Wren, but are you certain you want to do this? You would be giving up everything and leaving it all in the hands of father and William.”

“Can’t I leave it in your hands? I want you to be the next king.”

“I’m last in the line of succession, unfortunately. Nothing can be done about that.”

“Are you sure…?”

“Unless father and William were to perish, yes.” Windfrey smiled assuredly at his brother. “Before you do anything rash, you should calm yourself. Think about what this all entails. This isn’t the sort of decision you take on an emotional whim.”

Wren took a deep breath. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll go take a walk and try to calm down.”

Windfrey nodded in agreement.

“Thank you, brother,” said Wren. “I know I shouldn’t come crying to my little brother like this, but I felt I had no one else to vent to.”

“Any day, Wren. I’d rather you come to me than anyone else.”

Wren forced a weak smile and gave his younger brother a short bow, before turning around and exiting the room.

***

Some time had passed since Luck had recklessly used himself as bait to let everyone else escape from the battle against Admiral Zube. His eyes opened slowly, breaking a crust that had formed on his eyelashes. He looked around, trying to gather his surroundings despite his current disorientation. When he had fallen asleep, where he had travelled, where he had ended up to, everything was a blur. He sat up on the thin mattress he was laying on and tossed his eyes around.

He was in a cell inside a sprawling dungeon likely housing hundreds more. The flickering light of the coal lamp on the wall of his cell forced his eyes to adjust to the somber lighting of his new environment.

“Finally awake, eh?” called out a man from the cell across the hallway from him.

Luck squinted to see who interpellated him. “Who is this?” he weakly asked.

“It’s kind of hilarious this is how we would meet again, don’t you think?”

As his vision became crisper, Luck began to see the man talking to him more clearly. He was familiar, both in looks and in voice, yet Luck could not place him in his mind.

He was in his early forties but looked much older from the wear his body had taken over the years. He looked sickly, his body turned thin and weak from exhaustion and malnourishment. His hair sat atop his head like straw on a scarecrow, dry and dirty, like the rest of his person. His clothes were ragged, torn at the edges, and covered in soot. Despite his sorry state, he bore a nonchalant smirk.

“I’m sorry, my head is a bit fuzzy right now. Where do I know you from?” asked Luck.

“That’s understandable. You’ve been knocked out cold for a while, now,” snickered the man. “My name’s Marco. Ironically, the first time we met was in jail in Coalot. I’m starting to think destiny brought us together again,” he laughed.

“Marco…?” thought Luck aloud. “In Coalot… Wait, are you the guy who knows my dad?”

“That’s me. I reckon we’re in the same dungeon as he is. I know you said you wanted to free him, but I didn’t think you’d get yourself captured to do it. Bold move.”

“There was a slight change of plans along the way…”

“No doubt. So, how did you end up here?”

Luck sat up and made himself as comfortable as he could. He retold the events that had occurred from the moment he had left Coalot, up until just now, as his memories became clearer.

Marco nodded along, listening like a child being read a bedtime story. “What a riveting adventure.”

“You could say that. What about you? Why are you here, now?”

“After the captain of the mining operation in Coalot didn’t come back, I was transferred here because the soldiers didn’t know what to do with me. Now, I just wait to be forgotten again.”

“You mean Alexis? I feel bad for getting her caught up in everything. Why did you even get imprisoned in the first place?”

“I was living in Coalot before the army took over. It was peaceful and quaint. They came in, made us all work like slaves, and promised to leave only once the mines had been emptied completely. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a coal mine, but there’s a lot of coal. Didn’t have a day off in five years, so one day, I woke up and chose to stay in bed. They didn’t like that. So off to jail I went.”

“Alexis did that?”

“What could she do? She had to set an example for the others to show them what happens when you don’t obey.”

“Do you hate her for it?”

“Nah. Truthfully, this beats having to work every day.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have your old life back, though?”

“Of course I would. In the end, though, life goes on and changes, not always for the best.”

“You don’t seem to care very much. Aren’t you mad at the army? At the king? How could they do something so horrible to an entire population, without any remorse?”

“Who knows why people do the things they do?”

“They just want control and power, it’s obvious.”

“Sure, probably, but I stopped asking myself that question when I realised I didn’t even know what I wanted.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lived a very changing life. I lived in a peaceful town, just leading my day-to-day life, I lived as an adventurer, sailing the seas with famous treasure hunters, I lived as a family man, trying to raise a family, I lived as a son, a lover, a father, a worker. But every time, I was left craving something else. I kept changing, abandoning one life for another. In the end, I ended up here, and now I realise, I took everything for granted. But time moves forward, not backward.”

“So you’re okay with this? You’re just gonna wait for your fate to be decided for you?”

“Pretty much.”

Luck pouted at Marco’s indifference. “Well I’m not gonna accept this fate! I’ll get out of here and save my dad, like I meant to from the start.”

“I’m rooting for you, kid, but how are you planning on doing that? You’re not gonna befriend a cute guard here, too.”

“How would you know?”

Marco laughed. “You’re right, I guess. I don’t.”

“So now, uh, what do we do?”

“Welcome to jail life. We do nothing. Every day.”

“That sucks.”

“It’s supposed to.”

***

In another level of the dungeon, Silvers and Alexis continued to chat to pass the time.

“You know, this isn’t my first time being held in a royal dungeon,” said Silvers, almost proud to admit it.

“Really, now?”

“My brother and I once got captured by the Finhro Kingdom Army while looking for a sunken island in their waters. We stayed in an underwater dungeon for over a month, and let me tell you, the conditions were far worse than this. The walls continuously leaked water; we had to use our excrement bucket to try and toss the water far from our cell. It always came right back, so it was a constant battle. We barely slept in that month, and we ate even less. They didn’t feed us, we had to eat bugs and rats cohabiting with us. It was hellish.”

“Wow, that seems harsh. How did you escape?”

“We got lucky. One day, while we were trying not to die, the walls of our cell gave way under the pressure of the sea. Water instantly flooded the room, and we just swam up to the surface. Thankfully, the dungeon wasn’t that deep, so we didn’t get crushed by the water pressure.”

“Once at the surface, what happened?”

“We swam and swam, until our bodies were sore, fighting the currents and the waves. For a whole day and night, we swam. We landed on a small island in the Thunder Isles. And let me tell you, the weather is as shit as the name suggests. Constant storms, strong winds, raindrops like stones, all seemingly never-ending. We stayed on our lonely little island for another three months. I think we had under a week of good weather throughout our stay.”

“Gods… I’ll bet you didn’t even find that sunken island in the end, too.”

“Never did, sadly. It was an adventure, though, I’ll say that much.”

“A very painful adventure.”

“I hold positive memories from the experience, despite everything.”

“I couldn’t imagine drawing any positive from such a terrible experience.”

“Treasure hunting, legend chasing, it’s thrilling beyond belief. There’s always a risk of things going sour, but conversely, there’s also always a chance for wonder.”

“Is that why you became a treasure hunter, despite the dangers?”

“My brother and I had always dreamed of travelling together. The world is a fascinating place, full of things that seem unnatural. There’s so much to see in this world, and treasure hunting felt like the best way to experience the wonders of the world. Did you know there’s an entire forest thriving deep underground in the Estru Kingdom?”

“How is that possible? Don’t trees need sunlight?”

“Not those ones. They feed on the moisture in the ground and insects wandering beyond their bark to grow.”

“Trees that eat insects? Really?” Alexis’ cynical countenance spoke louder than words were capable of.

“Indeed. Their leaves and sap also glow in the dark.”

“This all sounds made up.”

“And that’s why I fell in love with adventuring. I wanted to retell experiences that mirrored fiction. I wanted to live the impossible.”

A wistful smile graced Alexis’ lips. A single tear rolled down her cheek, which she quickly swiped from her face.

“Everything alright?” asked Silvers.

“Yeah… I always wanted to travel the world, truthfully.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I never could. My destiny’s been sealed since the moment I came into the world.”

“Nonsense,” snickered Silvers. “There is but one person who can carve the path you tread, and that is yourself.”

“That may be the case for you, but my circumstances are different.”

Silvers pursed his lips and folded his arms in childlike disagreement.

The door at the end of the hallway opened with a clang, and a large shadowy figure made its way down the bricked path. The silhouette belonged to a man whose steps carried overflowing, unconstrained anger. The man stopped in front of a cell some meters away from Silvers and Alexis.

The coal lamp above his head lit up his side profile. It was Commander Blacke, a newfound scar covering half his head, down to his neck and under his clothes. His skin was red, tight and curled. He had lost the hair on the portion of his head that had been doused in boiling stew, and his left eyelid had partially melted away, granting him a monstrous appearance.

He leaned closer to the cell’s bars. “I’ve waited for your inevitable return, you sack of shit,” he growled at the person behind bars.

Sprawled casually on his mattress, the prisoner jolted to his feet upon hearing the commander’s voice. It was Ken, who had just recently been transferred from Fort Kingsley.

Commander Blacke spun a keyring on his finger, taunting Ken with his freedom. “Look what happened to me because of your meddling. I’ve been horribly disfigured, forever turned into a monster.”

“You were always a monster,” riposted Ken.

“Remind me again what exactly I have done to have such an obsessed fan?”

“You don’t even remember… You walking flaming bag of rotten pig’s carcasses. You killed my -”

“Your cat!” mockingly exclaimed the commander. “Ah, it’s coming back to me, now. That scrawny vermin deserved nothing less. A cat,” he scoffed. “You want revenge for that street rat. What a pitiful hill to die on.”

“That cat was everything to me!”

“Then you had nothing.”

“I’ll kill you!”

“From behind those bars?” laughed Commander Blacke. “Here, let me give you a hand.” The officer stopped playing with the keys and grabbed one. He unlocked the cell and stepped inside, closing the gate behind him. “Go on, kill me,” he taunted Ken.

Filled with rage, Ken sprung forward thoughtlessly, easily being stopped by the larger man. Commander Blacke overpowered Ken and slammed him on the wall, holding him by the throat, digging his fingers into his skin.

Ken’s face quickly began to turn red as he gasped for air. He tried to kick his assailant, but his feet barely reached him.

The commander laughed maniacally, holding his free fist behind his head, readying himself for a powerful blow. He slammed his fist directly in Ken’s face, over and over, laughing ever more sadistically with each strike.

His face swollen and bleeding, Ken waited for the next punch. Then, like a wild animal on the verge of death, he bit down on one of the commander’s calloused fingers, sinking his teeth in his flesh. The taste of iron flooded his mouth, prompting him to clench his teeth even harder.

Reflexively, Commander Blacke let go of Ken and pulled his hand away. With a bone-breaking, squelching sound, his hand was freed from Ken’s bloody mouth. In utter shock of the vicissitude of the fight, the commander looked down at his hand, now missing a finger.

Ken spit out the appendage he had ferociously torn off his captor’s hand. He panted heavily, barely able to stand after the beating he had just endured. Suddenly, another violent punch came crashing on his face, knocking him down limply.

“You fucking- ah! Shit!” shouted Commander Blacke in pain, holding his hand, still in disbelief. He struck Ken with a few solid kicks in the ribs before leaving the cell. “You haven’t suffered enough to die just yet. For the pain you inflicted on me, you will go through hell. Mark my words.”

“Fuck off…” weakly wheezed Ken.

Commander Blacke stormed off toward the hallway’s other exit. As he was leaving, his eyes met with Alexis’ disgusted gaze.

He stopped and returned a similar look. “More trash.”

“What the hell did you do?” she asked judgmentally.

“None of your concern.”

She glanced pointedly at his injured hand. “Your little intimidation tactics didn’t go quite as planned, did they?”

“Shut it before I tear you apart.”

“You wish you were able to.”

“I’ll have your head, both yours and that little shit’s.” He scoffed and resumed his fast walk outside of the dungeon to go treat his wound.

“I guess my head will remain on my shoulders,” jokingly said Silvers. “I wonder who that was he was so invested in.”

“I think I might have an idea.” She pressed her face against the bars of her cell and looked in the direction of the other prisoner. “Hey! Can you hear me?” she called out.

She received only silence as an answer.

“I hope he’s alright,” worried Silvers.

“Desmond Blacke, one of the worst people on this earth.”

“He does seem rather despicable.”

“It seems I’m not the only one in here who wants to make him pay for his devious acts,” she said, throwing her eyes toward Ken’s cell.

“In my experience, justice always finds a way.”

“We have very different experiences, then…”