Ripped Away

Alexej

cns imprisonment, vaguely predatory thoughts, mentions of murder and other comedy crimes, loss of a.. friend?

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Alexej ran circles in his cell. The barred window barely let in any light, but he couldn't tell if it was too early or late for the sun to shine or if it was cloudy or something else entirely, and it didn't make any fucking difference either. They were gone, and with them his magic. The blasted Force Grey had put him in shackles and thrown him into this rat hole nonetheless, not that he was able to seriously hurt anyone in his current state. His once stainless coat was ripped and soiled with muddy water and blood, and it didn't help that most of it wasn't his own. The oh so esteemed Blackstaff had put the chains on him himself after they had smote him down. 

It had taken half a dozen of these rats to get him, and even despite them catching him off goard and having a massive man advantage, he would have still slipped away relatively unscathed if this pretender of a high mage hadn't turned up. The Blackstaff. He had to laugh, but it turned into a cough half way through. He wipe the blood off his mouth with his already ruined sleeve. What kind of damn imbecile named himself after his staff? Not enough character to make a name for yourself? He would have to lie if he pretended the reluctant respect in his eyes hadn't made him a little proud, but it didn't make up for the devastating humiliation of being held in place by the chains that piece of filth had conjured up, or the feeling of the shackles closing around his wrists, or the fucking cold of this cell. If he ever got out of there, he would find out who had given him away, and they would pay dearly. A sudden wave of anger hit him, and this tim he couldn't help but cry out when his fist hit the wall and he spilled a little more of his precious blood. "FUCK!"

The hardest part about this wasn't even that he had to spend time in this cell. The hardest part was that they were gone. That alone was nearly unthinkable. The mage scum had taken them away in an enchanted coffin, and having them ripped out of his hands had been an unthinkable pain. They had been together for ages now. The last time he had been without them was.. he hadn't even been fifteen at the time. He had been nothing but a mere boy full of grief and anger, and them.. well. However, their partnership that had originally been born out of a sheer stroke of immeasurable luck had proven quite fruitful and lasted for centuries. Even though they had told him about how many of their previous partnerships had been less.. voluntary, theirs had always felt like a natural symbiosis. He got power beyond belief and an extended lifespan and they got their will, as it had always been. 

About that.. he hadn't gotten to think about how having them ripped away would affect is remaining life expectancy. He knew his father had been a dwarf, and even though he had miraculously not inherited his shortness, he would normally be expected to live around a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty years. Needless to say, he had already far exceeded that and, given his exterior, might actually live twice that long even without them to prolong his life unnaturally. Hotwever, he figured that, without them, there was a real possibility for his body to wilt away in a shockingly short time. Whatever. It made no difference in here anyway, and he certainly wasn't going to get out any time soon. So the only difference would be how long Force Grey would have to pay for his food, be it a year or three hundred. He hit the wall again. Fuck.

In fact, it would take over two hundred years for the Warlock to see the sun again. As the years went by, the title of Blackstaff got passed on multiple times, until finally, it was assumed by a great wizard by the name of Samark Dhanzcul. Dhanzcul, years after his inauguration, read through the prisoner directory for the cells under Blackstaff tower, and stumbled upon something rather curious. A simple headhunter was imprisoned there, for multiple centuries already, as it seemed. And so Dhanzcul, a man of an ingeneous, but not very pragmatic mind, ordered this particular prisoner's release. 

Alexej got woken up by a monotonous incantation. In his half-awake state, it took him a while to understand the meaning of the words, but once he did, his mind snapped wide awake. This couldn't possibly be? Why would they remove the bonds on his cell after such a long time? Although he had never been read his sentence, he assumed it had been for life. What made them reconsider? There was no information he could have, no value to them that would make them get him out of this pit. To his disbelief, the door opened either way. He was met with a stern, slightly worried gaze from a young, dark-skinned woman with a keychain in her hands. She was a sight to behold, if he was being honest. Behind her, two regular soldiers stood guard. Alexej didn't understand. Why would they.. "You're getting out, time's up. Your possessions will be returned to you at the gate", she spoke with a voice that both carried authority and confusion. Clearly, she hadn't expected him to still look like he was in his early to mid thirties after such a long time of imprisonment. In her defense, he himself hadn't either. 

The time below the ground had made Alexej bitter. It had stoked a boiling anger inside of him and it had even make him lose hope. But what it hadn't taken from him was his natural gift to take any and each opportunity he was offered, and as unexpected as this was, if this was his ticket out, he would damn sure take it.

Ruffling through his dark brown hair to make himself look a little more presentable, Alexej stood up. He wore nothing but rags and was barefoot, but when he straightened his back, he felt more powerful than he ever had since he lost his magic. He stepped out of his cell and was almost blinded by the light of the torches down the hall, but it felt overwhelming in a good way. After being objected to light deprivation for such a long time, he welcomed every stimulus. 

As they walked down the hall and up the stairs, every step taking him closer to freedom, the woman escorting him asked "What is it you were sentenced for, by the way? The records didn't show anything, but it didn't look like anything was purged. It seems we'll have to overhaul our system.." Alexej smiled at her. "Well, the truth is, Miss.." he said with a questioning undertone, "Safahr. Third Degree Grey Mage." "The truth is, Miss Safahr - congratulations on third degree at such a young age, if I may - the truth is that I don't know that myself, not exactly anyway." He shrugged. 

Of course, that wasn't technically a lie. Maybe it had been for his pact. Maybe for the sixty-three murders he had committed within city jurisdiction. Maybe it had been for the open Lord's daughter they had had a little fun with and the unplanned lethal outcome of that night. But since he had never been read his sentence he couldn't know, and it didn't matter anyway. Everyone who knew him around town was probably dead by now, and if not, they most likely wouldn't remember him. 

Miss Safahr, naturally, was oblivious to that. "Interesting. I'll look into it, check in with my office in a week or two if you want to know." "That would be splendid, thank you very much." In two weeks, he would be far gone. He'd rather live through his capture again than spend one more hour in this cursed town. But for now.. he hadn't flirted in ages. Literally. 

They arrived at the gate. Safahr undid a magic seal, then grabbed a neutral looking grey bag from the next room. "Time to unshackle you, I suppose. Can't imagine what it must feel like to have these on for such a ridiculous amount of time.. being seperated from your magic must be torture." You have no idea, he thought. his mind was already wandering off again, thinking about if he would ever wield magic again, but then Safahr stuck a key into his chains and turned it, and suddenly everything changed.

Alexej gasped. It felt like ice was being poured straight into his vains as the magic hit him like a tsunami. It felt like he was breathing proper air again and had forgotten how that was. It felt like a steel injection, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he was free.

But, and that second shock hit him just as hard: If he still had access to his magic, that meant they were still out there too. Their connection hadn't been severed at all! Alexej laughed. Safahr looked at him with a curious expression. "You okay?" "Oh, very. Have my thanks for liberating me. I'll be in touch." With that he grabbed the bag with his things on the ground, shot her one last smile and disappeared without a trace.

Less than two hours later he sat atop a stolen horse on a hill outside the cit walls. He had made a very clear list of priorities. First, find a bathhouse in one of the adjacent villages. Years in the dungeons had left him literally reeking, and he despised that. Second, visit his old tailor. The man was an elf, so chances were he was still alive. Alexej felt naked without his signature coat.

And third: Find them. He knew they were waiting for him somewhere. For the time being he would take his time and enjoy not being under the unique pressure they exercised, but he would eventually find them. Impossible for a being like them not to leave a trail, and he would pick up on it eventually, follow it to its end and make quick work of whoever kept them apart. And then, fourth and finally, they would enact sweet, delicious revenge on whoever had snitched on them in the first place, and he would do it slowly. For once, He was sure they wouldn't mind. He turned the horse around. 

Time to get to work.