Artim Valdock considered himself a practical man, and he was right. Which was why, as he looked down over the crumpled heap that lay in the cell before him, he decided it was time to give up on extracting any useful information from this 'Draleid'. It was time for him to send a message to the Dragonguard, as he had been instructed.
Reaching out to the Spark, he pulled in threads of Earth and Air – the two elements with which he was strongest. He didn't think the young man had enough left in him to attempt an escape, but it was always better to be prepared. Risks should always be taken, for nothing is gained when nothing is risked, and preparedness was the key to a successfully taken risk.
The young man's chest rose and fell slowly, a hoarse rattling coming from his lungs. Artim would have expected no less. The cell was borderline freezing, and he had been starving the young man for almost three weeks. It was not something he took pleasure in, but it was effective. Usually.
However, this situation was… unique. The manacles made it possible to control the Draleid, and crucially, they also stopped the dragon from finding him. The beast had killed more than its fair share of men since Artim had taken the Draleid, but it had been smart enough not to attack the city. Had it known that its Draleid was here, Artim doubted very much it would have exercised the same caution. But the problem the manacles created was that once the Draleid's mind had been separated from the dragon, he had become unresponsive. No matter the beatings, or the pulled nails, or the starvation. He hadn't spoken since that first night.
Tilting his head, Artim looked down at the Draleid, the blue glow from the manacles shining across the stone floor of the cell. He could kill him right now and end the problem before it even truly began. But the Primarch had been explicit in his instructions to the Battlemages. 'Beat him, break him, reduce him to a snivelling wretch for all I care. Just capture him alive.'
It did not matter. It would take only a few days or so for the message to reach the Dragonguard camped in Illyanara. While he waited, he would start working on the Draleid's companions. He did not have to inform anyone of their capture. Knowledge was power, and he must glean as much knowledge from these prisoners as he could.
Alleron stood on the battlements of Arisfall castle, looking out at the lights of the city as they glimmered in the languid snowfall. His nose still throbbed from where his father had broken it, and a sharp pain shot through his ribs with every breath he took. But both wounds paled in comparison to the strips of scabbed flesh that raked his back from where Lothal Helmund had flogged him. With each movement, the scabs cracked and bled, only to scab over once more. Even as he stood there, he could feel the blood trickling down his back.
The wind bit at Alleron's skin, so harsh and bitter the tear streaming down his right cheek began to freeze. He pushed it away with his hands and pulled his fur hood over his head. It was dangerous to be out on the battlements in these conditions. Men had died from exposure on more than a few occasions, but he always thought better when he was outside. And seeing as his father had forbidden him from leaving the castle, the battlements were the only place for him.
It had been his fault. It was he who had given that letter to Leif. It was he who had led his father and the High Mage to Calen. It had been weeks and Alleron still couldn't shake the image of Leif's bloodied head lying in the snow, devoid of life.
"You'll catch your death out here."
Alleron turned to see two men standing on the battlements to his right, both garbed in long coats of mail that peeked out under coats of heavy fur. He couldn't make out either of their faces in the darkness, but he recognised the voice. "Baird?"
The man on the right stepped forward, drawing back his hood to reveal a head of thick black hair and a scraggly beard. A bloodstained bandage stretched over his left eye.
"What happened to you?" Alleron stepped closer to his friend, ignoring the wind's icy touch as it blew his hood down over his shoulders.
"Your father's men, two days' march from here. They were waiting for us. Fell and Kettil are dead."
Fury bubbled in Alleron's chest, fuelled by a deep, visceral hatred. His father had not always been the cruel, twisted bastard he was now, but he had taken to it like a fish to water. "Leif…"
"I know. His head is on a spike outside the city walls."
Blood trickled through Alleron's closed fist, his nails slicing into the flesh of his palm.
"Do you know where the mage is keeping the Draleid?" It was the man beside Baird who spoke. His accent was like none Alleron had heard before, as though the words were foreign to his tongue.
"I do," Alleron answered. "Baird, who is this?"
"She is a friend."
Alleron was sure neither Baird nor his friend could see the perplexed expression on his face, but he tried his best to hide it either way. He had simply assumed the other hooded figure was a man, both because of their height and the harsh sound of their voice.
"Alleron," Baird continued. "We need your help, and you need ours."
"We do not have time for this," the woman said, stepping past Baird and dropping her hood.
Alleron gasped, stumbling backwards. The woman was not a woman at all. Or maybe she was, but she was not human. She stood just over six feet, and where Alleron should have seen skin, there was fur, like that of a wolf. It covered her arms, legs, and neck. Even her face had fur, though it was a lot shorter. Her eyes were a shimmering gold, gleaming in the moonlight. Alleron's hand dropped to the axe that hung from his belt, but Baird stepped towards him, arms outstretched.
"No. Aneera is a friend, Alleron."
Before Alleron could respond, the wolf-like creature stepped closer, its eyes fixed on him. "We intend to free the Draleid."
"Wait," Alleron said, raising his hands in the air. "Baird, how do you even know about the Draleid? What is going on?"
Baird put his hands on Alleron's shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. "I will answer any questions you have. For now, I need you to trust me. We are going to free the Draleid, but we need you to help get him and the others out of here and onto a ship. Once we are done…" Baird paused, taking in a deep breath. "Once we are done, we are going to free Drifaien."