Shade struggled to raise his head once more, but his strength was too far gone. The room had seemed empty, but apparently he had been wrong. The faint scuff of shifting straw rose from the shadows behind him. He tried to twist in his chains enough to glance back, but his body refused to move. “Barely.” Shade whispered to his unseen savior. He didn’t know if it was a Blight or another captive, but it hardly mattered. Whoever it was had saved him from further torment and he was grateful.
“I can tell. By the smell your wounds have gone putrid, and you’ve been mumbling for hours. I can only imagine the fever that must be gripping you right now.” The voice was soft and cultured with faint hints of an Arovan accent.
“Fever.” Shade murmured and almost smiled at the word. It explained the voice and his double so well. He had heard of fever dreams before, but had never believed he would be subject to them. It was so rare that anyone with Elder Blood was ever reduced to the pathetic state that he was in now that most never even considered the possibility. Typically if you didn’t kill an Elder Blood swiftly, you didn’t kill them. Circumstances such as his own current predicament were few and very far between. Most Elder Blood weren’t stupid enough to allow themselves to be captured as easily as he had been, and most would have fought to the death before being hung like a slab of meat and forgotten.
“I told them you needed healing, but of course they didn’t listen.” The man sighed and there was more movement behind him. “I’d help you myself if my own bonds would allow it. I’m not much of a healer as far as magic, but I know a bit about binding wounds. I’m afraid you are well beyond that being enough to help though. If you don’t get a healer soon I’m afraid you are…” his words trailed off leaving the last word unspoken. It hardly needed to be said though. Shade knew well enough how close he was to death.
“Who?” Shade asked as loudly as he could, which wasn’t much more than a harsh whisper. His voice sounded like a croaking frog to his own ears, and he could only hope his fellow prisoner could understand him.
“I’m not sure if you are asking who I am or who I told you needed healing so I’ll answer both. My name is Caleb Faulklin of Lord Micah’s Honor guard, or at least I was. I remember you from the Academy, but I doubt you remember me. I was graduating when you were arriving, and we only met once. As to whom I asked, well the Blights of course. They are our current hosts in this lovely place.” Caleb explained quietly.
The image of a young man with pale grey eyes flashed in Shade’s mind at the name. Caleb had been soft spoken, but memorable with short dark hair that frosted to white at the tips and a quiet charm that seemed to hold women captivated. Shade could remember the meeting quite well. It had been in a tavern near the Arena. He had started out drinking alone and had ended the night in quiet conversation with Micah Arovan of all people. They had discussed everything from politics to current laws and had parted on good terms despite the differences of their houses. Caleb and Honor Hai’dia had been silent shadows behind the heir of Arovan in the beginning. They had guarded over their young lord as if they expected Shade to poison him, but by the end of the night they had been relaxed and even offered their own thoughts on the various topics.
“Always liked Micah. Respected him.” Shade murmured softly. He wanted to say more, to offer condolences for Micah’s death, to voice outrage over his murder, but he was fading and he knew it. “Any words for him? I’ll see him soon.” He chuckled weakly at his macabre words, but it was the truth and there was no use denying it.
“Tell him I found her and she is safe. Tell him that she doesn’t need my protection like he feared she would, and that she misses him, but she will be fine.” Caleb’s voice cracked with the words and he was silent for a long moment. “Don’t tell him where you saw me. I want him to pass onto his next life without the full truth. I want his spirit to rest peacefully. He deserved that much. Micah loved her and this would break his heart were he still living. It nearly broke mine when I arrived and I wish he had never sent me after the bitch. I would have much rather died in blissful ignorance beside him in Arovan.”
“Who?” Shade asked again. It wasn’t his business, but the pain in the man’s voice had stirred even his lethargic mind to curiosity.
“Onvalla, Micah’s wife. Though I promise you he didn’t know what she was when he married her. I spent months around the woman and never realized she was Blight, and now she leads them. With luck the knowledge will die with us. I don’t want my Lord’s reputation tarnished by his choice in love, and it would be. After all, we set out to extinguish the Blights, not bed them.” Caleb’s voice grew bitter and he fell silent once more.
Shade digested the news in silence. It explained perfectly why Caleb was still alive and sounded in better health than he was. Onvalla had known him personally, and it was doubtful that Caleb had offered any more of a fight than he had when captured. The bitter irony of the entire situation made him want to vomit. Both of them had been sent to help the Blights in one form or another, and both of them were rotting in the dark because of it. Of course Caleb hadn’t actually known he was charged with helping a Blight, which made his story even more depressing. Both of them had walked blindly into their situation, and both of them would likely die from it.
“Fate you cruel fickle bitch.” Shade muttered as his eye closed once more. His mind slowly released its last attempts at thought and everything began to fade to an empty fog. The pain was finally fading away as well. The agonizing pounding of his pulse was becoming a faint echo that was gradually slowing. Rationally he knew he was dying, but it was blissful none the less.
“God damn you fight! Don’t surrender!” The voice broke through his thoughts once more and Shade smiled faintly in response. Once again as he had done so often lately Shade quietly ignored the voice of reason. He was too far gone to argue or fight and he knew it, there was nothing else to do but ignore it.
*