The old man sits eerily still, not even a shiver, despite the chilly and damp room.`He relaxes into the chair as it creaks and moans, while, on the other hand, Garrick is rigid, frightened and disoriented despite trying to remain composed. A crumbling front that the old man can undoubtedly see through.
Silence fills the room, except for the occasional drip of water from god-knows-where and the crackle of torchlight. Each stares unblinking at each other, each with a specific purpose, with the old man breaking the deadlock.
"I've spent a long time travelling throughout Varenheim, learning all that I could about magic, ingraining every little morsel of knowledge into my repertoire for future use." He leans in closer, becoming more animated the longer he speaks. "Knowledge is solely acquired by actively seeking it, which I achieved. Years upon years of endless travel across the six major kingdoms of Varenheim, only to return to this one, The Sovereignty."
Garrick's once faltering stoic mask has shifted to a scowl, listening to the ramblings of a madman. "If you're gonna try and justify whatever you're planning on doing, then save it, I'm not interested in your bullshit justifications, you bastard."
The old man recoils with a sly smirk. "I prefer the name Jarathus, personally." Jarathus chuckles, eyes focused on Garrick's. "I say what I say not to justify my actions but instead so you may better understand your situation. I am a monster, an evil man, but for a specific reason, to create something unique, one-of-a-kind, and I have a strong suspicion you may be that missing piece of the puzzle."
Garrick lifts his hand off the cold floor, wiping his hands clean of the water mixed with a dark substance while maintaining a relentless concentration on Jarathus, whose demeanour has shifted more serious.
"I apologise for the... unsatisfactory conditions you find yourself in; my time between subjects was shorter than I would have liked. You may be confined here, but I plan to make it as pleasant as can be. You'll have heat, light, a bed and food, the bare essentials of everyday life."
"And a chain around my ankle to complete the essentials... but why go to that extent? It seems pointless since I assume I'll end up dead soon."
"A fine question. You are needed healthy, well, as healthy as possible, and a weak constitution is of no use to me... and I'm not 'that' kind of monster."
"But a monster nonetheless..."
"...Yes." Jarathus stands up with difficulty as he walks over to a nearby table, lifting a dish of meat and bread, a good meal for any traveller but a buffet for a prisoner. "Eat this when you are ready." He places the plate through a gap at the bottom of the cell door as the metal scrapes along the stone floor.
Garrick's vision doesn't falter from Jarathus, even after the smell of the food reaches his nostrils.
"I understand your scepticism, but the food is not contaminated in any way. Like I said before, I need you healthy." Jarathus tries to assure Garrick, but it goes as expected for a captor trying to convince a captive. "Garrick, I'm going to explain-"
"How do you know my name?" Garrick cuts off Jarathus, more curious than rage-filled now.
"Your interest is promising. The more adept the wielder of magic, the more extraordinary feats of wonder they can exert." Jarathus points with a shaky, outstretched index finger toward Garrick. "I peered into your mind, seen your history, everything from when you were a child to when I brought you here." Jarathus points towards the floor.
"...Why bring me back? Am I just that unlucky? Why not any of the other corpses in that ambush?" Garrick's voice grows bitter and resentful, not at Jarathus but at himself.
"You are insignificant. People will not waste their time sending search parties out into the forest for you. The monsters of the forest will have ripped your body to unidentifiable shreds before the blood runs cold. No one cares to find you; you are a speck of dust in the cosmos you float in, helpless." Jarathus leans in close like before. "You are magically inept, absolutely no potential at all... and that makes you valuable to me."
Jarathus' face brightens with a large grin, sending shivers down Garrick's spine, sticking the hair on the back of his neck on end as if his body is screaming to get away from him immediately. For such an old, frail man, Jarathus exudes a terrifying and dangerous aura. He waves his hand and a book 'poofs' into existence in front of him.
"This book is the summation of the previous subjects. They lasted roughly two months, but I have higher hopes for you." Jarathus speaks with giddiness, as if sharing his findings with others is exciting. "Yes... you will be better than them. You have that spark I require, so please don't disappoint."
Garrick scoffs. "Like I have a say in the matter. What happens is entirely up to you."
"You could not be more incorrect. I will play my role with the utmost prejudice and caution, but you must also play yours."
"Play my role? You think I'm going to sit by and let you do whatever you want? Are you that fucking senile?" Garrick begins to speak loudly, his voice amplifying in the small room, echoing against the stonework.
"An unyielding need to survive is what you need, and you are proving to me that you will play your role, too." Jarathus stands up, making his way over to the room's entrance. "Over the coming weeks, I will explain my process to you. Your understanding of what will happen is not needed, but the clearer the goal for you, the more willing you are to complete it. Garrick Goldwind, we're going to make history." Jarathus leaves, closing the door behind him as it grinds against the floor, shutting with a thud.
Garrick's eyes begin to water as he shakes with terror as the emotions to fight to remain in control of our swell up, bursting to the surface. If hell exists, then Garrick has surely arrived in it.