The Ardor - 1. Chapter 1

How long have I been in this cell? I had tried to keep track of time in here, but not a single ray of sunlight found its way into my prison, so I could only guess. I had lain down to sleep eighty-five times. Almost three full Tenths had passed then, enough time to ponder about the accomplishment of stealing from the Mogul Emperor.

When I came up with this plan, it sounded audacious and very lucrative. ‘Foolish’ would have been a better word. No guard stopped me sneaking into the palace of the city of Nur’Khal, and some heads must have rolled for this. The piece of jewelry on a pillar in the middle of a giant, dome-like room asked me to take it, whispering its lure through glittering beauty. I still didn’t know what I had stolen, but it was even more precious than I had imagined. I knew because the entire second army of the Nur’Zhul Empire was sent to hunt me down. It took them only three Cycles. I hid the trinket in a safe place; so safe that even the most gifted scryers of the warlock empire weren’t able to locate it. And that was the reason why I was still alive.

“How can a mere thief hide something from the Mogul Emperor?”

This unspoken question filled the eyes of my interrogators with fear. Moreover, it enraged them beyond reason that I was impervious to their torture spells and resisted all attempts to magically extract the whereabouts of the amulet from my mind. Finding that out taking almost two Tenths didn’t ease their worries. Ironically, the heavy reliance on the craft, which had helped the Nur’Zhul Empire to conquer dozens of kingdoms, made them powerless right now. There didn’t seem to be an interrogator in the Empire knowing enough about the traditional art of persuasion. The danger of killing me was too great to experiment on me. So, they had left me alone in my cell for the last Tenth.

The nature of my prison made me wonder. There was only a single cell approximately ten by ten Steps in size. A small flight of steps led up to a sturdy, wooden door, which made it most likely I was in a cellar. The constant temperature added to this impression. I didn’t have to shiver, but it wasn’t warm, either. A moldy smell hung in the air, but I had become used to it and could ignore it most of the time. Steel bars reached up to the high ceiling with a single gate secured by a massive lock. The lighting consisted of some glass orbs casting a dim excuse for light into the room. They were powered by magic for sure, and I kept asking myself whether they served other purposes as well. A basin inside the cell, made of the same grey stone as the walls, appeared to be most misplaced here. A constant stream of chilly water gathered in it, ran over its edges, and flowed away through a small canal with a grated exit in the wall. The burbling sound had soothed me to sleep many times, the water taking my worries with it. Nevertheless, granting a prisoner the luxury of washing and a clean place to relieve himself was odd. I had come to the conclusion that this jail had been built for high rank or special prisoners. So I was special — a very comforting thought.

When the interrogations had stopped, I had been relieved, of course. But having no one to talk to, seeing no one besides the gruff and silent guard bringing my food made me wish for them to begin again. Perhaps, wearing me down by isolation was their new tactic. Given the loneliness I was already feeling, they might even succeed with it.

The sound of iron working against iron yanked me out of my thoughts when the wooden door was unlocked and pushed open. The Nuzr of the Nur’Zhul army who was in charge of this place came down the steps followed by two guards. The evil grin on his face twisted my guts, and a feeling of coldness crawled up my back.

“Good news! Though I don’t think a pesky thief like you deserves it, you’ll get company.”

Although he spoke the Common Language, his croaky voice betrayed his Nur’Zhul origin by the length of the vowels and the sharpness of the consonants. His small, dark eyes, narrowed to slits, complemented the malice of his grin. The scar running over his left cheek shone bright red, giving away his excitement. His greasy, black hair stuck to his head and face. He had my size but was stockier. The Nuzr’s uniform had seen better times: Its metal ornaments had lost their shine, and some holes had been patched with an obvious lack of skill. The sword on his side was covered with little spots of rust all over.

“Say hello to your new cell mate.” In a wide gesture, the Nuzr pointed at the wooden door. The grin changed into a grimace.

Two more guards came through it, and right behind was a huge figure enveloped in a brown cloak that shielded it from view. My heart skipped a beat or two when I saw the sheer size of the new inmate. The steps of the giant were slow and unsteady as if this person fought against moving. Another couple of guards followed. Coming last through the door was a man in a light blue robe embroidered with patterns made of golden thread. His crossed hands covered the front of his face, so I couldn’t discern his features, but he didn’t look familiar. His lips moved, and he muttered words under his breath while he descended the stairs. I knew enough about wizardry to recognize a channeled spell. The cloaked person indeed resisted his—or her—own movements under the influence of a subduing jinx. The strange procession reached the floor. Calling the hooded figure a giant wasn’t an exaggeration. I stood to average height, one Step and eighty Jots, and you had to add another half of me to reach up to this… thing.

“Step back from the bars, scum.” Contempt joined malice in the Nuzr’s gaze.

My legs didn’t obey because panic rose in me, a paralyzing panic that made it hard to breath. I walked back, each step an act of will. The Nuzr unlocked the gate. Still under the spell, the cloaked person stumbled into the cell, forced by magic to bend down enough to fit through the opening. My instincts made me take another step away. Panic transformed into the urge to run.

The Nuzr bared the ruins of his teeth. “I think you will like your new friend.”

“I don’t think it is up to you to gloat like this, Nuzr Shamar,” the blue-robed sorcerer said.

He lowered his hands, revealing his face. His eyes caught my attention at once because their icy gaze radiated power through grey irises. Those eyes measured me, increasing my uneasiness. His long and thin face didn’t have a single wrinkle, making it difficult to estimate his age. Given his white hair, which was cut short, he was close to sixty Orbits. A prominent nose, shaped like a hawk’s beak, emphasized this man’s aristocratic air. I turned away from him at a thumping sound to my left. The giant had collapsed to its knees and braced on its arms on the floor, panting in heavy gasps.

“Your blatant incompetence called for my presence, Nuzr Shamar. The members of the Benevolent Council have more important things to do than retrieving information from a reluctant prisoner.” The voice of the sorcerer was calm, and if I hadn’t known him to be from Nur’Zhul, I wouldn’t have learned it from his accent.

“But, your Excellency, I…”

The sorcerer raised his hand, and the Nuzr stopped babbling.

“We will deal with you later, Nuzr Shamar.”

The Nuzr swallowed hard.

The eyes of the sorcerer locked onto mine. “Fair-haired and blue-eyed — a citizen of the kingdom of Telera, for sure.” He chuckled. “What is your name prisoner?”

“Elyran, son of Semiron and Nurulan,” I answered without thinking and chastised myself for it. The authority of this man was overwhelming. I had to be cautious. Another moan from the giant made me face it again.

“Nothing to worry about, Elyran, son of Semiron and Nurulan. At least, not yet. It will take some more Parts for the spell to wear off.”

I turned back towards the sorcerer. He smiled at me. It was a genuine smile; or a perfect imitation.

“We mean you no harm, Elyran. Our only interest lies in the little trinket you’ve taken from my liege. It isn’t worth much but holds great sentimental value for our emperor. We’re offering you ten thousand Nur’Zhul Dreks if you reveal its location to us. You’re free to go with this little token of the emperor’s generosity.”

For ten thousand Nur’Zhul Dreks, I could buy a city of my own, but I was convinced that the only place I’d be free to go was some Steps under Nur’Zhul soil.

“I think I want to meet my cell mate first before I decide.”

The smile on the wizard’s lips didn’t waver. “It’s a one-time offer only, I fear. But speaking of the new inmate… what do you know about the Ogrushkai, Elyran?”

The Ogrushkai were a non-human race living to the east of my home kingdom of Telera. They were famous for being fierce warriors and expert tanners. And they were green. That was about everything I knew about them.

“Not much.” It did no harm to answer the truth here.

The sorcerer laughed, a sound of amusement, but not scorn. “That doesn’t matter. You’ll spend a lot of time with a fine, male specimen. Enough time to learn all those interesting, little facts. I only want to tell you one thing about them. I assume you haven’t heard about the Ardor either?”

I shook my head.

“The Ogrushkai like to keep the Ardor a private matter. You’re not to blame, Elyran, but I happen to know about it. Despite their outer appearance, the Ogrushkai are a very civilized and peaceful race. Still, every twenty-five Units, not much of these traits remain. They enter a state of frenzy and their conscious mind makes place for more primal emotions. Not exactly violent feelings, but more delicate in nature, if you understand what I mean. Having this condition, they’re not very picky about who satisfies their needs, and they don’t care too much about their… victim’s… welfare.”

Despite being reprimanded earlier, the Nuzr’s face flowed over with glee.

The sorcerer’s lips were still curved into that smile I began to hate. “I almost envy you, Elyran, for the possibility to study the Ardor close up.”

The panting of the Ogrushkai, who was still cowering on the floor, stopped.

“Ah, the spell is almost broken. We’ll leave you alone now so that you can meet in the privacy of your humble abode. If you change your mind about revealing the whereabouts of the piece of jewelry, just call for the guards.”

The wizard climbed up the stairs followed by his entourage. The Nuzr, leaving last, darted another triumphant look at me before closing the door. I faced the Ogrushkai. When I felt the cold dampness of the wall against my back, I realized that I had been moving away from him. My heart beat fast and sweat poured down my face.

With a swift motion, the Ogrushkai’s head turned into my direction. Two yellow eyes glared at me from beneath the cloak. He uttered a guttural growl. I pressed against the wall. No escape. Terror.