Discordant Note | TBATE

Chapter 42: Will

Toren Daen

My heart pounded in my skull as I slowly came to consciousness, jostled continuously by somebody moving. I squirmed in discomfort, which rewarded me with sharp pain coursing all over my body.

I groaned, feeling the bruises and wounds I had all over. My shin, shoulder, and ribs hurt especially. My hands were bound awkwardly behind my back, which stretched out my wounded shoulder in a very unpleasant way.

I watched the ground pass by beneath me. I was moving at a slow pace; my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light.

"Ah, awake already, are we?" someone said. Recognizing the voice, my confusion vanished in the face of fear. It was the man who had shown up right after my fight with Kaelan Joan. I was slung haphazardly over his shoulder, and he was whistling a tune as he moved.

He hopped over a rock, causing my jaw to smack against his back.

"You came back faster than most people do!" he said cheerily. "Usually they only wake up when we're about to work on them. Shame, that. There's this buildup of tension that's entirely lost when they just sleep through their delivery."

The metal attached to my wrists was cold and sterile. I didn't know if I'd be able to break my shackles, but I knew my best chance of escape was before we actually reached our destination.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, hoping my fear wasn't audible in my voice. I didn't want to show weakness to this man.

"Take a guess, my friend," the man said, turning. Trailing behind me was a feline beast made entirely of fire. Its eyes were unnervingly empty, staring back without intelligence. It left no scorch marks as it walked.

And I couldn't sense the fire mana within. Actually, I couldn't sense mana at all: my hearing, which was usually hyper-acute, was so dull as to be nonexistent. My body felt weaker than before, and each laborious breath sent undulled pain through my body.

I can't use my mana, I realized, panic flaring up. It was still there. I probably wouldn't have been able to even feel any mana if the phoenix feather in my core wasn't constantly outputting some. But even that I could only grasp a trickle of it before my sense of it cut off, vanishing like it was never there.

"My mana," I said aloud, real fear in my voice. I didn't think there was any point in trying to hide it anymore.

"Mana suppression shackles," my captor provided cheerily. "You won't be able to do anything with those on."

My heart began to thunder in my chest. I tried to think over my options: I couldn't fight this man. Could I escape? The light around me made me think I was inside some sort of building. He wanted me alive, but would he leave me unhurt?

I wriggled, trying to get a better view of where I'd passed through. I was able to make out the length of a hallway before a strike to my wounded shin made me cry out.

"No looking, little man," my captor said as if he was scolding a dog. "Can't have you doing that."

I was thinking as fast as I could, going over all I knew about the Joans. I was probably in some sort of hideout. Was I going to be tortured? Killed? I was drenched in sweat from my previous battle, but I was sure another wave of perspiration had broken out onto my skin.

My captor stopped and then knocked on a door. I felt tempted to keep looking around to try to discern more information about where I'd been taken, by my captor must have somehow sensed my intent. He dug a thumb into my wounded shoulder, causing me to grunt in pain.

Without another moment to waste, my captor flung open the door. He strode in with a notable strut, each movement jostling me on his shoulder.

"You have him, Dornar?" I heard a crisp voice ask.