The harpoon was lodged deep in his chest, the sharp pain of its barbs making each breath hard to take. They were shallow and sharp as pain worsened every time his chest inflated with air. Raziel’s cries of worry reached his ears. His heart ached for her. Ensarrian knew it wasn’t easy for her to see him this way, especially when there was nothing she could do to help. The harpoon could not be removed using the same technique as removing an arrow. It had several barbs that will rip more of his flesh if pulled out, which in turn will only worsen the wound. Like a fish hook, it was designed to keep its hold on its victim no matter how much they squirm and try to get loose. But also like a fish hook, there was a certain way to remove it without causing excess damage. Unfortunately, neither of them knew of the correct technique.

He slowly opened his eyes at the sound of Raziel’s crying and sniffling. But movement from behind her caught his attention. Despite his blurry and fading vision, he noticed a familiar face among them that made Ensarrian’s eyes widen and blood freeze over. He snarled at Solmundr and made an attempt to stand, but his wings wobbled under his weight and collapsed. “Raziel…run,” he wheezed. But he was too late. She turned on Solmundr with defiance and protectiveness of Ensarrian, and it made his heart lurch into his throat. The Wyvern knew she would be powerless against Solmundr, as he himself found great difficulty to escape him. Solmundr pressed further to get her to comply, and she looked back at Ensarrian, straight at his wound. He could see in her eyes exactly what she was thinking as her head hung low.

Suddenly, he saw Solmundr lifting something from behind her. “Raziel, look out!” He cried, but she could not react in time. Her head was hit harshly, and she fell to the ground, unconscious. His flaming eyes lifted onto Solmundr, lips curled in a vicious snarl that showed his long fangs and bone crushing teeth. “You bastard,” he spat. “Come now, Ensarrian. You should have seen this coming,” said Solmundr smugly as he stepped closer. He raised one foot and set it on the pole of the harpoon, leaning down to rest his arm on his knee with a cruel smirk. Ensarrian winced at the pressure added to the wound. “You are my prized dragon. Do you really think I would let you go after all the work I put into you? Now, the time has come to finally perfect you,” Solmundr dropped his foot from the harpoon pole and grabbed it firmly. With a vicious tug, it tore his skin as it was pulled out of his chest. He roared with pain, clamping his eyes shut. Warm blood poured from the wound now that there was nothing to slow its flow. “Patch this up,” Solmundr commanded one of his men, tossing the harpoon to the ground. “We can’t have him bleed to death.”

Immediately one of the men rushed over to Ensarrian and did as Solmundr told him. But by this time, Ensarrian’s eyes had grown too heavy. Damn, the harpoon tip must have been drugged to make him go to sleep. Desperately, he attempted to look back over at Raziel’s motionless form before he finally blacked out.


By the time he came to, he was lying on a poor excuse for a bed. Gray walls surrounded him, no lights, no sounds, aside from what came from the other side of the metal door. He slowly sat up and turned to let his legs hang over the side of the bed, only to clutch a hand on his chest with a painful groan and wince. His head was spinning as he slowly woke from the drowsiness. He lifted his dark shirt that was stained with dried blood and reeked as such. The source of his pain was a large wound that had been sewn shut, the area all around it irritated, red and hot. It throbbed with a dull stabbing pain. He made a ‘tsk’ sound and pulled his shirt back down, brow creased with frustration. They cared enough to stitch his wound so he wouldn’t bleed to death, but they didn’t give a crap how well a job they did. They just needed him alive. Nothing else mattered.

Suddenly a familiar, yet somehow unfamiliar scent caught his attention, all of his senses attempting to be on high alert, but mostly failing due to the fog of sleep that still lingered. He sniffed the air, gazing around intently. There was another nearby, one that carried the scent of his own species, but he didn’t recognize it aside from that. It seemed to be coming from one of the corners of the room. His fiery eyes stared at it, scaling up and down the walls. But there was nothing there, just an empty corner. He supposed someone could have been there recently, but it didn’t smell the slightest bit stale, as if it were still there. How odd…

The door abruptly swung open, pushing the drowsy fog away and waking him entirely. He blinked at the person standing in the doorway, glaring at their annoying smirk. “So you’re already awake,” Solmundr said. “Good. It’ll be more enjoyable without the drugs numbing your body through the process.” Ensarrian didn’t understand what the man was talking about; he just knew it wasn’t going to be good. But there was only one thing he really cared about. “Where’s Raziel?” He growled.

“You’re little pet? She’s well, for the time being. Whether or not she stays that way is up to you,” Solmundr’s smirk grew. Ensarrian clenched his hands into fists, blood boiling, “Damn you.” His voice was low and threatening, dripping with fury like it was venom. Why couldn’t he piece it together earlier? Of course Solmundr would use Raziel to force him into complying. If Ensarrian so much as thought of rebelling, who knows what that snake would do to her. “Now then,” Solmundr began, extending his arm out as he moved to give Ensarrian room to get through the door. Now he could see at least five other men down the hall. Watchmen. “Shall we get going?”

Setting his jaw, he forced himself to stand, refraining from wincing from pain. He shouldered his way past Solmundr and followed his men down the halls. He observed how much this place look like the one he had burned down so long ago. Did they rebuild it? The floors were cobblestone, sanded to be perfectly flat. The walls were brick, with rows of metal doors lining them up and down. The only source of light were lanterns above every doorway, giving a warm and dim glow through the corridors.

They guided him to a room that was all too familiar, one he had hoped he would never see again. Chains and shackles hung from the ceiling and walls, a single metal table with restraints sitting in the middle with a faded white sheet laid across the top. The table, floors and chains were all stained with dried blood. Two wheeled stands held mayo trays on one side of the table, both holding various tools used for torture and surgeries that were neatly lined across the trays. Only one contained tools covered in dried blood, the other with newly cleaned tools.

“I’m sure you already know what to do,” said Solmundr as he stepped next to Ensarrian. He snarled at the man, but fiery eyes kept locked on the table ahead. His heart pounded nervously as he tried to guess what they were going to do to him this time. In fact, he was more than just nervous. He was terrified. But he kept a brave face; no one was able to tell how he truly felt. This was all for Raziel, he kept reminding himself. He would do anything to make sure Solmundr never turned on her. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had to go on knowing she was harmed or killed, all because he was too afraid to endure more torture. He had done it before, he could do it again. Only this time, he had more motivation.

“You might want to strip,” said Solmundr. “You wouldn’t want your clothes getting more stained than they already are.” Ensarrian inhaled deeply to relax his shaken nerves, exhaled, then removed all but his black boxers briefs. He lied on the table, eyes staring up at the ceiling while they tied him down. Refusing to look elsewhere, he could hear them discussing what to do as they rummaged through their variety of tools. But he blocked them out, refusing to frighten himself by listening to their words and seeing what they were doing. It wasn’t until he saw movement next to him that his eyes strayed and laid on a very intimidating tool. The metal end was long and thin, spiraled for drilling with a wooden handle that’s used to make it spin. They pressed the tip against his forearm up next to the crook of his arm, aiming straight for the bone hidden beneath his flesh and muscles. His eyes clamped shut in perpetration for them to begin. And when they finally had, not even his high tolerance to pain could keep him from letting out a bloodcurdling scream.

Sanyi had been up since the dark hours before dawn. The strange raven boy had made it impossible to fall asleep, and now that she was awake, he was all she can think of. She stole out of her room and made her way through the dark corridors until she made it to his room. If she hadn't heard Solmundr say which room he was to be taken in, his scent and blood would have guided her. In the corner she sat, her knees pulled to her chin as she stared at his still form. Raven Boy's chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm. Not a sound was made as she gazed upon him, nor did she shift positions.

Who was he? Where did he come from? Why did Solmundr want them? Slowly, her mind repeated the questions over and over, yet no answers were ever discovered. Just memories from her mother's teachings. Find Vartirrian, for they were important to their kind together. Mother never did say why. Raven Boy woke, her thoughts melting into what he was going to do. He took in his surroundings and checked his wound. Sanyi froze as he looked right at her, yet right past her, even so far that she held her breath. Even in his state, his sense of smell kept him alert to smell her. His eyes, though, were like fire, beautiful and captivating. She wanted to just sit there and stare at his eyes for eternity.

But Solmundr interrupted. Ensarrian, as Solmundr called him, inquired about some Raziel, a pet apparently. Something about this Raziel really got under Ensarrian's skin. Sanyi frowned, not understanding the relationship between wyvern and pet. Why was her safety so important? She waited until Ensarrian, Solmundr, and guards were down the hall and out of sight. What was about to transpire was a scene all too familiar that Sanyi did not want to watch that. Instead, she stood, exited the room and went down the hall in the opposite direction. There was something she wanted to investigate.

The door was unguarded, which was a tad surprising, as Solmundr never took chances. It was highly unlikely that he had forgotten about this room and its occupants. Sanyi picked the lock, glanced down both ends of the hall before opening the door carefully. Her caution was rewarded by the winged pet still sleeping. The door was closed securely, and Sanyi found herself in a corner just like she was in Raven Boy’s room. There seemed to be very little about this small creature that was alluring. Lavender hair and white feathers seemed chaotically spread as if she had not stirred since she was dumped onto the bed.

”I know you’re there.” Sanyi blinked in surprise as a soft voice came from the supposedly slumbering form. The winged pet began to slowly push herself up until she was propped on the one hand, hair completely shielding her face from view. Her free hand lifted to feel the back of her head with a hiss of pain. Solmundr had her knocked out with a weapon, it would seem. ”Your breathing gives you away.” This surprised Sanyi, for she did not know these wyvern hunters to have as keen of hearing like that. So who was this pet to have hearing almost as good as her own? ”Where am I? Where’s Ensarrian?”

She let her invisibility fall, right about the time when Ensarrian’s scream echoed through the place. Sanyi winced with empathy, but Raziel had a look of alarm. The pet rushed out of bed and started pounding on the door. ”Ensarrian!!” The wyvern stood and rushed to the tiny creature and pulled her from the door. ”Stop that! You’ll get me caught.” As she looked down at the small thing, she saw tears in her eyes, sorrow, and concern for the other wyvern. ”You’re in Varaz, Wyvern Keep as he calls it. Why are you here? You are not a wyvern.” Raziel wept for Ensarrian and the pain he was enduring.

”Something pulled him from the sky. These men approached and… I didn’t know what else to do to ensure our safety.” Sanyi scoffed. ”So coming here was the better option?” Raziel wheeled on her, her fists little balls at her side. There was something strange about the way the eyes did not fixate on Sanyi as others did. ”I couldn’t remove that weapon lodged in his chest!” The way she said it implied that it was far too large for a normal weapon. Meaning he was pulled down in dragon form. She sighed. ”I saw the poor job they did at mending his wound. It will leave a nasty scar.”

Her eyes widened, what was that expression? It was something her mother had every time she mentioned Vartirrian. ”Not if I can get to it soon. Can you do me a favor?” Again, Sanyi blinked with surprise, having never heard the word “favor” before. At least, not to her. ”A favor?” Raziel began digging in a pack at her side that Sanyi just now noticed. ”You seem to have free reign in this place. Would you take this to Ensarrian? Let him know I am safe, and that I will figure out a way to get to his side?” Sanyi looked at the plant stem that was placed in her hand. It was green with purple petals and smelled nice. The winged pet also pulled one of her feathers out from one of her own wings and tucked it in Sanyi’s hand. ”Please.”. It appeared that Sanyi had no choice. ”I got to go… Before they discover my disappearance.”

One by one, they drilled into his bones. Blood streamed from him each time the spiral metal spun into his flesh. More often than not, they would hit a nerve that would cause him to jerk uncontrollably, which in turn brought upon more pain. They were careful to avoid any of his arteries, places that could potentially make him bleed to death. They gave him no drugs to ease the pain, and no muzzle to muffle his screams. And he knew why. Solmundr wanted to see him suffer and struggle, he wanted Ensarrian to be completely overcome by pain. And Solmundr made sure the procedure was as painful as possible. Each and every bone was drilled into multiple times. In his legs, arms, hands and fingers, feet and toes, his hips and chest, even his spine, neck and tailbone. His spine and neck in particular were treated with more care as not to paralyse him or even kill him, and his skull was too risky to touch in the first place.

The drilling was a very slow process, causing unimaginable pain that could have deafened everyone in the room from his screams, even himself. And to make matters worse, once they were done with one bone, they would puncture him with a long needle, slipping it straight through the open wound down into the holes in his bones. Each time they did he could feel intense stinging, making him jerk every time it entered the bone. Then he felt large amounts of pressure as liquid was injected, first in his bones, then into his flesh. The liquid was cold and warm all at the same time; he could feel it rushing through his blood and spreading in his flesh. He knew not what it would do to him, nor did he care in his moment of weakness. It took all he had not to call it quits and fight back. Thoughts of Raziel was all that kept him going. For her, he would endure anything Solmundr threw his way.

Once they had finished drilling and injecting, they would sew each wound up. One on its own wouldn’t do much harm, but with as many as he had, there was a potential risk of bleeding to death. Just as before, they patched up the wounds without care as to how properly it was done. It was only enough to stop the bleeding, but not enough for proper healing. They didn’t even use the correct needle and thread. No alcohol nor water was used to clean the wounds. Clearly they were unaware that they were risking his wounds getting infected, which could eventually kill him.

His screaming finally stopped once it was all done. They unstrapped him from the table. There was no resistance as they lifted him from it, only groans and whimpers of pain. Two men wrapped his arms around their neck, holding him up with his head hanging low and legs dragging. “Take him to his room,” commanded Solmundr. “What about his clothes?” Asked one of his men. “Dress him in his room or leave him as is. I don’t care. Just lock him up,” the snarl made one of the men holding him flinch, and then they were on their way. They drug him down the halls, the creaking of a door letting him know they had arrived at his room. Darkness swallowed them, except for the light from the hallway, as they entered the room. Pain made his body tremble as it enveloped his entire body the moment they laid him down on his hard bed. It screamed in protest of being touched when they dressed him. Then, the light from the hall faded as they left the room, shutting him alone in the darkness.

His hands were held against his chest, body shaking from pain. Fiery eyes never opening, still clamped shut, body motionless. It hurt to be touched, it hurt to breath, it hurt just to be alive. He wanted so badly to cry, to allow himself to vent in some way. But years of suppressing his tears made it second nature. So instead he lied there in deafening silence, mind wondering how much all of this was worth. Would Solmundr keep his word and leave Raziel alone now that he had forced Ensarrian into compliance? Was she alright? Where was she being held? How was she being treated? His worry made him itch to know. But there was nothing he could do in his current state. He was powerless, and that was the most painful thing of all.

For hours he lied awake in his own thoughts, pain far too severe to allow himself to sleep. But, eventually, his body became numb to it, enough that his breathing slowed as he drifted off into a very deep sleep.


Unbeknownst to him, he was no longer alone while he slept. A curious figure slipped into his room unnoticed. Their silence kept them from distributing his rest, but it didn’t need to. His body started aching again, letting him know that it was time to wake. The pain hit him like a wall, a reminder of the torture he had endured. But there was something new that managed to pierce his senses. The sweet aroma of lavender, the familiar scent almost soft enough to calm him. He caught another scent with it, the same he had smelled the day earlier when he had first awoken in his room. Again, it was familiar to his own kind, yet unfamiliar. This time, it was right there in front of him. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open. They immediately locked with stunning blue pools, cold as the ice that came with winter. He blinked up at the unfamiliar eyes, breath catching in his throat. What the hell?

For hours, Raziel lay in the fetus position, holding her hands desperately over her ears. She was futilely attempting to block out the gut-wrenching screams from Ensarrian. Whatever they were doing to him only brought the most terrible images to mind for the angel. Tears drenched her face as loathing consumed her. What dark creature would be so cruel as to harm another in such a fashion? Ensarrian was kind and sweet. Even when he was at his cruelest, which was only done for protecting her, he did not deserve such treatment.

Finally, all went quiet. Raziel continued to weep for her friend, only imagining how hurt he must be. Time was lost as it slipped quietly past. Emotionally drained, and fatigued from her lamentation, Raziel was beginning to drift off to sleep when her door suddenly opened. There was no time to even sit up when a pair of hands roughly dragged the angel out of bed. ”Hey! Let me go!” Her words fell on deaf ears as she was hauled out of the room.

Fighting was no use, for her kicks were ineffective. She struggled and squirmed, but the person who held her had a firm grip. Eventually, another door opened and she was crudely dropped and sent sprawling onto the floor. ”Come now, Neal, we are not barbarians. We mustn't treat our guests this way.” It was that man’s voice who gave the promise that they would help Ensarrian. His hands reached out and helped her up. Raziel pulled her arm from his grasp when she was standing straight.

”What have you done with Ensarrian?” She had noted that the door behind her had not been shut, and a pair of footsteps entered a room. They were soft enough to go unnoticed by many. Her bedroom visitor might very well be in the room with them. It was safe to say that if she had disappeared from her room and brave enough to enter this one, then she must have some sort of camouflage to keep from being seen. ”Your face is soaked, sweetheart. Have you been crying?” The question from the angel was ignored as he tried to wipe tears away with his thumb, the sudden touch of his hand on her face making Raziel jerk and swat his hand away.

”I ask again, what have you done with Ensarrian?” He gave a “tsk” sound as he turned from her, his heels clicked over the floor until he sat down in a chair. Raziel could hear the air whooshing from underneath him. ”Your spirit reminds me of someone very close to me. She and I go way back. Both of you are fighters. But you, sweetheart, have a defect.” The angel glowered, her hands curling into fists. ”I don’t need you to point out my flaws. And don’t call me ‘sweetheart’.” A hearty laugh resounded through the room, coming at her from all directions.

”This, right here, is what I mean. Seriously, when I look at you, you’re all tiny and sweet. Yet you have such fight in you.” She felt her cheeks flush, which earned her another resounding laugh. ”Tell me, what are you to him?” Raziel ground her teeth as she tried to figure out her response. ”He is a dear friend. Protector and guardian.” ”And that necklace around your neck? The one none of us can remove? That is from him, isn’t it?” Against her better judgment, Raziel’s hand reached up and curled around the scale necklace. Her heart raced, beating so hard she wondered if he could hear it. ”I want to see him.”

Once more he laughed. ”See him? Unless I’m mistaken, you can’t see anything at all. Which is strange, because you looked straight at me the other day.” Raziel’s flush deepened. ”Why should I let you near my prized possession?” She took a deep breath, attempting to settle her frayed nerves. ”I don’t know why, and I doubt you would explain. For whatever reason, you are torturing Ensarrian. While he is my protector, I am his healer. Let me tend to whatever wounds you inflict on him, and I can ensure he won’t die on you. If he does, my life is yours to take.”

Silence filled the room. Raziel could hear the breathing in the corner was bated, held in suspense. Her own heart beating so fast she feared it would escape her chest. ”You place that much trust in your own skill?” He asked, skeptical of her claim. Without hesitation, Raziel responded confidently. ”I do.” She waited for his response as he continued to ponder her proposal. ”Very well. You shall see him in a couple of hours. Let him rest for now, as he has had a long and difficult day. Take her back to her room.” The first part of her plan worked out a bit better than she had hoped. Now all they had to do was figure out a way to escape.

It had been a long time since Sanyi had to listen to someone else take the torture. She had forgotten the way it churned her stomach, to know so intimately what they were doing. Once upon a time, it was followed by the fear that she would be next to endure the treatment. This time, however, she had no fears, as she was promised that no more would befall her. While she didn’t trust Solmundr as far as she could throw him, but there was something positive by the thought of it finally being over.

When the screaming finally stopped, Sanyi found herself staring at the door, her heart thrumming. There was an unexplainable urge to go back to him, to watch over him as he slept. What was wrong with her, that ever since he was dragged in, she wanted only to be in Raven Boy’s presence. Suddenly, the distance between the door and herself was gone as she found herself opening the door. Silently, she padded down the halls cloaked in her invisibility, only to see a curious sight of the winged pet being strong-armed past the intersection.

Instead of stopping at Raven Boy’s room, Sanyi quickly followed them to Solmundr’s study. This was his favorite place to be when he wasn’t in the torture chamber. Her skin crawled just being there, but she was highly curious as to what was going on between the winged pet and her tormentor. She stole into the room and stayed in the corner, staying as silent as possible as she watched the interaction between Solmundr and the girl. The wyvern had to praise her for her defiant attitude. If he was to try and break her, Sanyi hoped that the angel kept it.

Raziel gave the offer to keep Raven Boy healed, which Solmundr took his sweet time to ponder. When finally he agreed, and the angel was taken away, Sanyi watched him turn to the fire that crackled in the hearth at the end of the room. ”Soon, he shall be perfect. Then we can proceed to phase two.” She stayed and waited, but he said no more. Sanyi finally decided to leave the room and made her way back to Ensarrian’s room. This time, there were no guards for who would keep watch over an injured wyvern too weary to barely keep his own head up?

Just as silent as before, she opened the door and slid in, closing it behind her. When she turned to him, Sanyi curiously just stared. That peaceful look upon his face was still there, but there was so much more to him. Her eyes slid over the crudely sewn wounds that covered his arms. Why had they done something this different to him? It appeared as they ripped open the skin then pinched it shut all over the place. What had he done to receive such punishment? Each step she took to inch her closer was slow as a snail, absorbing every inch of visible skin she could.

When she finally was at the head of the rough bed he was on, Sanyi knelt beside it. She didn’t want to just leave the flower and feather and be gone. His peacefulness was so… alluring. The raven black hair matched her own, and he looked strong. There was that aura of his too. Slowly, her face inched closer, wanting to feel if those lips were as soft as they appeared. Before she could get a chance, however, his fiery pools blinked open, confusion writing itself all over his face. Yet, she couldn’t convince herself to pull back.

As if her body had a mind of its own, Sanyi’s hand lifted until her fingertips gently touched Raven Boy’s lips. Why did her heart feel like it was racing and it felt like she was starting to become winded? ”She sends this to you,” she whispered as her other hand produced the lavender and feather, gently laying it next to his head. ”She is going to come to you soon. Made a deal with Solmundr, she did. If you value her life, no matter what they do… don’t die.” Sanyi closed the distance between them, pressing her lips against his ever so softly, eyes wide opened as she did.

Immediately, the wyvern stood and went to leave the room. It was his yelp and groan that halted her footsteps. Sanyi looked back at him with the strange sensation of tears pricking at her eyes. She went back to his side with a soft “shhh”, trying to soothe his questions. Once more, her fingers went to his lips to silence him. ”I am someone who knows what you endure. But I can’t stay long and you should rest before the winged one comes.” The wyvern moved until she was sitting on the edge of the bed, gently smoothing his hair as her mother once did for her. She discouraged any more talking.

Her magic reached out to him, cooling each hot wound until they numbed completely. As she did this, she softly hummed a lullaby that her mother had often hummed to her after a torture session. Her hand gently ran through his hair, smoothing it as her nails tenderly ran across his scalp in a soothing fashion. Once Raziel comes in, whatever she does might only increase his pain. But for now, at least Sanyi can offer this moment of comfort. After his eyes slid shut and his breathing became slow, the wyvern slowly leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead before quietly making her way out and back to her own room. There, she laid on her bed, staring at the wall as memories flooded her mind.

Her task seemed daunting as she was unable to formulate any plan to escape. The layout was unknown, and judging from those screams, Ensarrian was in no condition to fight. There was also the uncertainty about the stranger who had visited her previously. Would she help? She was just as much a prisoner here as they were if she feared getting caught outside her locked room. Raziel sat on her rather uncomfortable bed, ankles tucked under her knees in a cross-legged fashion. Her hands were supposed to be calmly folded in her lap, but they clenched with worry as she tried to meditate on her more immediate task of healing Ensarrian.

Eventually, someone opened the door for her with a gruff command to follow. ”Give me your elbow and I can,” Raziel countered irritably. Had no one any idea the difficulties that came with blindness? He grumbled to himself before complying. As they headed down the hall, Raziel stumbled behind him to keep up. ”Hey! Short legs here! Walk slower.” Even more mumbled complaints escaped his lips as he slowed his gait.

Right upon exiting her door, she would have to count the steps coming back to be sure how far down the corridor they went before making a left. Forty paces before turning left once more. Eighty paces and they took a right turn this time. Thirty paces and they stopped. Raziel heard the jingle of keys before one slid into the lock and loudly clicked open. Her escort was not so gentle in pushing her into the room. The stench of blood wrinkled her nose as the door was shut behind her. ”Brother mine?” she whispered.

Carefully, with her hands out and her steps shuffled, the angel made his way to his bed. Fingers reached out and gently felt his face, a small sad smile played at the corner of her lips. ”Oh, my poor, brave Ensarrian.” He was burning up, feverish and dry. Ever so gingerly, she began to explore the rest of his body. The shirt was crusted with blood and probably now glued to his wounds. One arm she felt caused her brows to furrow. What in the bloody Inferos had they done to him?! Their work was shoddy, enough to keep him from bleeding out, but nothing else. Raziel would have to undo all of their work so that she could fix it.

If they were so careless with these wounds, how bad was their tending to his chest wound? With a sigh, Raziel began digging in her endless bag for supplies. Everything was carefully laid out on the bed. In an attempt to treat the fever, the angel chose a bottle with a dark liquid inside, shook it vigorously, uncorked it and brought it to Ensarrian’s lips. Elderberry juice with finely ground echinacea and catnip to boost the immune system while helping induce sweating without raising his temperature to cool his body. Next, she took an oil mixture of cinnamon and ginger and gently rubbed it on the back of his neck. The whole time, she was whispering to him what she was doing, and how it would help him.

Her second task was to help treat the wounds he endured recently. She poured water from her canteen on a clean piece of cloth and began to gently clean his fingers of one hand. A small bottle was opened, brought to her nose for reassurance before carefully dispensing a couple of drops on her own fingers to massage into his skin. Clove oil was known for interfering with pain receptors. The terrible stitches were then cut and removed. A needle was threaded and she sewed the skin back together properly. After cutting the excess thread off the final stitch, Raziel picked up another small bottle, testing the aroma before kneading the soothing chamomile into the area she had been working on. It would help bring down inflammation.

”There is someone here, Ensarrian. She is trapped like we are, but free to sneak about. Maybe she can help us?” Raziel moved onto the next crudely sewn injury, working with deliberate movements, slow and careful. Wash the area, numb the skin with the clove, cut and resew, then knead with chamomile. Her voice stayed low as she whispered her thoughts to him, her meeting with the unnamed man with the promises. The angel even apologized, feeling like she was half of the reason he was here, injured and weak. If her safety wasn’t on his mind, would Ensarrian have a better chance of escape?

Ensarrian stared up at the icy eyes, blinking with confusion. Alarm had seeped into his mind as he wondered who the girl was, and what she was doing in his room, especially so close to him. Though his brain told him to be wary of her, to pull out of range, he was completely motionless. He couldn’t move his body no matter how strongly he willed himself to. There was something about her— something…odd. It was drawing him towards her, overthrowing all of the red flags going off and telling him to stay where he was. Telling him to wait and watch, to approach her… Was it because she’s a Wyvern like him? The only other one of his species he’s seen since the other boys from his village died by Solmundr’s torturous hands? Perhaps it was his curiosity about her, the desire to know more that kept him from making any movements that might scare her off. No, none of it sounded quite right. The pull he was feeling, the overwhelming desire to know her; it was far more than curiosity. It was…alluring, like something was beckoning him to make some sort of approach.

But he remained still as a rock. Her fingers touched his lips, sending his heart into a wild frenzy. His breath hitched and became bated, body stiffening at the warm softness of her fingers on his lips. Her whisper caused a slight shiver to pass through him. And it was then that he realized what it was he was feeling. It was an attraction, a very strong one. His face burned with her being so close; not even Isedora had come so far into his personal space. But this attraction didn’t feel like any other he had felt before. It wasn’t because he thought she was pretty or had a fine figure. It felt…natural, somehow. As if this was meant to happen. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what to make of it, or how to react.

He barely managed to catch her words. Eyes of flame broke their shared gazes as she moved her hand, placing a feather— Raziel’s feather, and lavender next to his head. Raziel will see him soon, she said, explaining that she had managed to make a deal with Solmundr. During the moment he wasn’t understanding what she meant by it all, but he didn’t need to. The only thing he truly cared about now was that Raziel was safe. He almost released a sigh of relief had the girl not caught his attention once more.

She pressed her lips onto his, and his heart pounded and thrashed against his ribs. His eyes widened like saucers, locking with hers as they remained open. So many questions arose, his mind whirling. What the hell was going on?! She broke the kiss and instantly tried making a run for it. On instinct, he sat up and tried reaching for her, “Wait” — a yip cut him short as his body was shot with pain, reminding him of his wounds. A groan left his lips and he curled in on himself, body trembling as the pain quickly worsened. He shouldn’t have moved so abruptly. His body wasn’t ready for such quick movement yet. He fell back onto the bed, eyes shutting tightly while he breathed through clenched teeth. The quiet shushing told him that she was back at his side, and he strained to open his eyes to look at her. “Who…are you?” He muttered painfully, figuring that was the most important of the questions he wanted to ask. Her answer was a simple one, and suddenly a lot of pieces fit together. This was Solmundr’s hideout, and she is a Wyvern. She must be like him, a survivor that has endured all of the torture and experiments.

Any other questions he had went unvoiced as she placed her finger on his lips to keep him quiet. She made herself comfortable on the edge of the bed, running her fingers through his hair. For several moments he watched her with uncertainty, shivering and aching. But the feeling of her nails running over his scalp was calming, the gentle and slow movement allowing his stiff muscles to release tension a little. She hummed a song that was oddly familiar. Before he realized it, all of his pain had numbed, his shivering subsiding. His eyes grew heavy as a fog of sleep weighed down on him. It wasn’t natural. Magic.

He fell asleep, but woke even worse off than before. His body was burning far worse than ever before. His breathing was quick and shallow as if he had just been working out in the heat without any water, his mouth dry and throat sore. His wounds were throbbing horribly. Heat never bothered him so much; why was it bothering him now? Was it from the injections he was given? They never told him what it was they were putting inside of him. Perhaps it was finally setting to work. But what was it doing to him? It’s like his body was going haywire. Unfortunately he could feel no sweat upon his skin, offering him no chance of being cooled off.

Creaking from the door echoed through the mostly empty room. Two figures appeared, one far larger and roughly shoving the other into the room with him. The door was shut and locked. Instantly the scent of lavender filled his nostrils, and he relaxed knowing it was only Raziel. Her sweet and soft voice broke the silence, and his fiery gaze watched as she made her way over to him. He let her feel of his face. Her sad smile splintering his heart. He longed to tell her that he was fine just to keep her from worrying, but he knew any attempts would be futile. She knew he wasn’t; his shivering, fever and wounds screamed as much. He tried looking her over for any signs of abuse, but he could find none. Perhaps Solmundr truly would keep his word and wouldn’t hurt her if he obeyed.

Her little hands moved down his body, exploring his chest and legs, paying special attention to the wounds on his arms. How could he explain the drill wounds without making it sound as bad as it really was?

He ended up not saying anything at all, remaining silent as she dug through her familiar bag of supplies. She laid out several things, most of which he knew nothing about. The first was a bottle that she brought to his lips. He drank some without hesitation as she explained what it was for. The next was an oil she rubbed on his nape that smelled strongly of cinnamon and ginger. A cloth was then moisten with some water. She lifted his hand, the whole limb shooting with pain as his bones screamed at the movement. His face twisted and he groaned, bitting down hard on his tongue to keep from crying out. He trembled under her touch, hand and fingers twitching as he struggled to keep from withdrawing it from her as she wiped down his wounds. But the worse part was when she started rubbing something into his tender skin. An involuntary whimper escaped him.

The moment he spotted her readying a needle and thread he turned his head away, breathing in and out shakily. He tried blocking out the sharp pain of the needle breaking his skin after the old stitches were cut away. Some enough, though, the pain on his skin started to numb to the point where he couldn’t feel it at all, but the pain in his bones remained untouched and intense as ever. The metallic taste of blood swelled in his mouth as he bit his tongue too hard, but he didn’t release any pressure. If anything it helped give him something else to think about other than the ache in his bones. Though, he had to wonder, if dealing with it was this bad just on his hand, how would he be able to handle it on other areas of his body? More sensitive areas? After the stitching she rubbed something on the wound, another groan sounding from him. And there were so many more to do…

The sound of her voice made him blink his eyes open, turning his head back towards her. Someone else was there…the girl from earlier— it had to be her. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, gulping as she prepared the next wound for the same treatment. He was confused by her words though. Why was the girl free to move on her own? He nor any of the other boys from the other hideout had such freedom. Why was this girl any different? Did he trust her? If that were the case, then perhaps she had sided with him. That thought filled him with fear and worry. She could be another enemy. Raziel explained her meeting with Solmundr as well, then started apologizing. “Don’t,” he interrupted, shaking his head weakly.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this from happening. It was going to occur with or without you here with me. But”— he reached for her hand with his free one despite the pain, gently caressing her knuckles with his thumb as he attempted a reassuring smile— “If you weren’t here, my wounds would have festered far worse. I would be dying by an infection. Plus…I’m not alone this time.” He recalled how hard it had been all those years ago when he was held captive, how he had no one warm to soothe him and offer comfort, how he had to endure all of the pain all alone in that small and dark room. His thoughts were full of hate and malice. But now, enduring the torture was far easier knowing that Raziel was there with him. Even if he couldn’t see her all the time, he knew she would be alright so long as he endured. He hated her being caught up in this situation and knew it shouldn’t have happened, but the selfish part of him was grateful it had. That only made him angry with himself.

Sanyi counted the minutes as they passed. A century of sneaking around the compound taught her patience. Thus she could wait calmly for the hours to pass. The only problem was that Raven Boy. He consumed her mind, introduced many new emotions including agitation. By the time the winged one was to be escorted to his room, Sanyi had already found herself in the corner once more. She watched him sleep, his body reacting to the torture he had endured.

The wyvern was debating on trying to cool his skin when the door opened. Her eyes flicked to the final prisoner as she was pushed into the room. Raziel acted strange, her hands held out as if the room was pitch dark. Curiously, she called out a word that the wyvern would never had used to describe his relationship to the lavender haired girl. Brother, kinsmen, family. This was what her mother taught her. But the winged one was no wyvern. It confused her. Sanyi frowned as the small woman's hands examined his body. What was she doing?

Raven Boy let her hands explore in silence, took her strange potion without complaint. Sanyi's nose wrinkled at the strong spices as oils were rubbed onto his neck. That was when Raven Boy finally broke the silence with a pained groan as the winged one began to clean his hand. She lifted bottles up to her nose before using anything, and it finally dawned on Sanyi that Raziel wasn't even looking at what she was doing! Her fingers moved with precision, careful and graceful all at once. Was there something wrong with her eyes?

Sanyi listened to them talk. First about her, then about blaming herself. She could see the gentleness and caring shine from under the pain as he took her dainty hand. The smile he gave would not be witnessed by the winged one, as she placed a hand over his, her smile sad. "All I am doing is keeping you alive for more pain. What kind of sister am I to sit and do nothing but listen to your screams?" Raziel sniffled as she shook her head, extracted her hands and resumed her work. For a while, she continued in silence. "But, you know, my work would be a lot faster if she helped instead of lurk in the corner."

The first time the lavender haired woman noticed her was a shock, now it was an annoyance. But she understood how the small woman can hear, because she can't see. Sanyi allowed her invisibility to drop, staring at the floor with burning cheeks. "Well? Are coming to help? Or are you just going to gawk." How can someone go from soothingly sweet to commandingly short in a split second? The wyvern sighed as she stood and slowly approached.

Where Raven Boy was stiff with pain moments before, his discomfort was clear as day with the revelation of her presence. For a long minute, the wyverns locked gazes. Silent accusation met steady curiosity. "Sit." Raziel's voice cut through any tension between them, leaving no room to question or defy. Sanyi settled on the edge of the bed, resisting the urge to run her hands through his hair again as she blinked in surprise when a bottle was thrust in her face. "Begin by gently rubbing this on the wounds of the arm." Her gaze shifted between the winged one, the bottle, and Raven Boy. Did she have to do this?

There was simply no ability to decline as Raziel gently, if impatiently, shook the bottle. Reluctantly, she took it and began administering the oil the way she witnessed Raziel doing. Silence stretched out as the women worked on Raven Boy. She tried to keep her eyes on her appointed task, but her icy blues kept drifting up to meet fiery reds. Sanyi would blush deeper as she forced her eyes back to hks dry, hot skin under her hands. The winged one must have sensed something, dor she spoke up again with an attempt to start a conversation. "So, um, you were tortured too, I take it? Otherwise, you wouldn't be here sneaking around, right?"

Sanyi's fingers froze at the question, memory of pain coursing through her. With the recent heat session, her magic flared to cool the room. For a long while, she didn't answer as her breathing and heart began to race. "Yes… but…" Her voice came out soft and barely audible. "But?" Her eyes flicked up to Raven Boy's knowingly. "Never like this. What did you do to Solmundr?" Raziel interrupted by putting a knife in Sanyi's hands. "See these stitches? Cut them, then watch me carefully." The small one's movements slowed a bit as she carefully sewed the wound back up. "Do you think you can replicate this? Try here on this one."

Once more, Sanyi glanced at his face, hesitating as she contemplated the thought. The faster this got done, the faster he can heal and rest easier. But it also meant the next session coming sooner. "I need verbal acknowledgement here. Can't see it when people nod or give some silent sign. It would also be nice to have something to call you." Sanyi found herself riddled with surprise again as she looked over the small one. "Yes, I can duplicate it." Raziel held out a threaded needle. "Not too deep."

The wyvern took the needle and looked at him again. Steeling herself, she prepared to stitch this man up. She resisted the urge to wince in sympathy as she pierced his flesh. Sanyi tried to copy every movement precisely and quickly. When she was done, Raziel felt the work and gave an approving nod. "Numb that arm and start stitching those properly, if you would." Before setting to work, Sanyi locked eyes with Ensarrian. "My name… it's Sanyi."

Despite his attempt to reassure her, Raziel still blamed herself. He shook his head lightly at her reply, hand removing itself from hers as she set back to work. Ensarrian wished he knew how to make her understand, to see it the way he does. Solmundr is a great threat. His supply of drugs and poisons make it very difficult for Ensarrian to handle him; there was no way Raziel could have fared any better. There was nothing she could have done to stop Solmundr from taking them, nothing she could have said to reason with him. If she had attempted anyway she probably would be dead by now. But she was there with him. Whether she realizes it or not, she was helping him more than harming. Yes, she’s keeping him alive and he will endure more torture because of it. But it wouldn’t last forever. He would rather gain comfort and relief for just a few hours between torture sessions than none at all, being stuck with the gruesome pain from each one and being unable to rest. She was a reminder of why he was clinging to life, what was worth holding onto and enduring pain for. Without her, he imagined he likely would have attempted to end his pain once and for all if he couldn’t escape a second time.

His eyes landed on her face when she spoke again, wincing at the work she did on his hand. Rubbing in oils, cutting and restitching. But she wasn’t talking to him. His attention shifted to movement in the corner of the room. Long raven hair appeared as her invisibility dropped, fair and pristine skin glowing in the darkness of the room. His eyes widened, lips parting as if to say something, but quickly shut. It was the girl from before, the one that appeared in his room and…and…

His face flushed at the memory, a hand raising to cover his lips protectively as they tingled from the memory of his stolen kiss. Ensarrian’s muscles tensed when their eyes met and locked. He hardened his gaze at her, heart thumping as she stepped closer and sat on the edge of the bed. Fiery eyes watched her intently, anxiously, breathing unsteady as if he was expecting an attack from her at any moment. In his state he wouldn’t be able to fight back if she tried taking advantage of him, and he wasn’t sure how well Raziel would be able to handle that sort of situation. Considering she isn’t a Wyvern, and she doesn’t have the supplies required to overpower them (as far as he knew), he imagined she wouldn’t do too well. He wasn’t even sure what the girl wants with him, if she was even an enemy or not. But the fact that she watched from the corner in his room for who knows how long, and the kiss from earlier, he had plenty reasons to be wary.

Raziel handed her a bottle and told her what to do with it. The girl seemed hesitant, her cold eyes darting between the angel and bottle until landing on him again. She took the bottle and started to apply it to the wounds on his arm, his face twisting from the pain of being touched. Damaged bones groaned in protest as she rubbed the oils into his skin, and he wished the numbness would reach deeper beneath. But, somehow, his flesh found a moment to tingle from her touch, her cool skin like refreshing ice against his burning arm. Her brief glances did not go unnoticed as his own eyes were watching her, switching between the movement of her hands up to examine the tinge of pink on her face. The silence that filled the room was loud. Ensarrian fought the urge to squirm uncomfortably until Raziel finally spoke up.

She asked something that had completely slipped his mind, and his eyes blinked at the girl curiously. Her reaction suggested that she had indeed been tortured, fear gleaming in her eyes, and he could practically see those horrifying memories flashing through those icy eyes, for he had been through the same as her. She admitted it, but he already knew he had been right earlier in assuming she was just like him. Held captive by Solmundr and tortured. Perhaps she was also the only survivor. Her eyes locked with his. She claimed that her experiences weren’t quite the same as his, and for a moment he allowed his eyes to stray, sliding down her figure. Her clothing was a short, thin dress with noodle straps, a low top that would normally tease a man and an open back. Its length wasn’t quite modest, either. But it was the scars that her clothing left exposed that he was looking at. Every one of them brought back horrible memories of torture that gave him those very scars marked on the same parts on his own body. But there were none alike the drill holes he was given, just as she said. She had given his own question a voice: Why was he different? He could not answer.

Raziel cut in. This time she handed the girl a knife. She proceeded to tell her to cut the stitches, which the girl did. Immediately blood flowed from the wound when it was reopened, streaming down his arm. Raziel showed her how to restitch it with another example, his eyes squeezing shut as he stifled a groan when the needle broke his skin. The girl copied it with great reluctance, giving him not a single moment to relax after the last one Raziel had done. When her voice cut through his pain, he opened his eyes, mind repeating the name until it was almost whispered from the tip of his tongue. Sanyi… Somehow, the name sounded familiar. “I’m Ensarrian,” he muttered, averting his gaze when he realized he had been staring at her.

Once they had finished with his arms they moved on to other parts of his body. His shirt was removed first to give them access to the wounds covering his torso. Next was his pants so they could work on his legs. His face burned the entire time as he lay helpless before them, body almost completely bare save for his tight underwear. He knew Raziel couldn’t see, but Sanyi could, and both of them had their hands all over him. Although, he had to admit it was a rather welcoming distraction from the needles pricking him and bones screaming in agony. He wasn’t sure how long it had taken. A few minutes, perhaps even hours, but to him it had become an eternity. When it was finally over, it wasn’t soon enough. They dressed him, carefully. Then he was left in the room all on his own once more when Raziel left with the guard that brought her, and Sanyi snuck out unnoticed. He was left with another gift from his dear little angel: a blanket to keep him warm as his body finally began to sweat and cool down.

Blood had been cleansed from his body, oils rubbed into his skin and stitches updated. He felt clean, made new as if he had taken a bath after weeks of building up dirt and grime on his body. It wasn’t true, the oil growing in his hair said as much. But it was still nice nonetheless, and for the first time since being here he was able to relax, even just a little, enough to fall asleep. Although worry plagued his final thoughts as he drifted into dreamless rest, dreading the moment he wakes, for he knew more torture was coming.


Ensarrian woke with a fright. After gaining decent rest his body felt energized, although still painfully sore, especially after his wounds had been tampered with only hours ago. He could barely move to let his legs hang over the side of the bed, but it was an improvement. His hands were clamped over his ears, eyes wide open with sheer terror as they darted around the room. His mind was far from the aching of his body. Now that he was wide awake he had noticed something that his pain riddled mind hadn’t spotted before. The room was small. Very small. Too small.

Memories flashed behind his fearful eyes, memories of his time spent in a similarly small room when he was first in captivity as a child. He had been in there for so long, always alone in the darkness. The only sounds were that of his own breathing, his own heartbeat, his own blood coursing through his veins. The cold air made him miserable, and the loneliness and darkness and quietness made him go insane. Since then he’s avoided staying inside buildings for too long, especially rooms so small, as those fears would come crawling back. The majority of his stay here he had been asleep, too drowsy to notice the smallness and darkness and quietness of his room. But now, he was wide awake and fully aware.

He could swear the walls started moving, inching closer and closer from every angle. The temperature dropped until he started shivering, his inner fire refusing to light to keep him warm. Darkness swarmed him, the silence making his quiet thoughts seem like screams that echoed off the walls. He shut his eyes tightly, moving his arms over his chest in a self embrace. But it was no good substitute for the comfort he so dearly desired. Quick and shallow breathing filled the room, his leg bouncing in an attempt to give himself a distraction. It didn’t work. He imagined Raziel was there with him, holding him in her little arms as her soft voice caressed his ears and quelled his growing fear. She would stroke his hair as a mother would, offering words of comfort as she ensured him that everything was alright, that it was only his mind playing tricks on him. And he knew it was. But fear always overpowers logic.

The creaking door cut through the silence and broke his insanity. His leg stopped moving, eyes shooting open. The walls hadn’t moved an inch, and steam was dancing around him from the heat of his body. He had been imagining it, all of it. His pounding heart slowed, his rapid breathing calming as he heaved a light sigh of relief. “I didn’t think it was that cold in here.” Solmundr’s voice made a glow growl rumble in Ensarrian’s throat. His eyes lifted and turned to glare at the man in the doorway. “But, it’s good to see that your fiery side still works as it should,” Solmundr grinned. Flaming eyes narrowed at him, and he let out a guttural laugh, “Oh, I didn’t tell you, did it? Those injections were other elements to build up your immunity and give you some use of them as well. Your body was probably confused whether to listen to those or your natural element, which would have been the cause of your fever. But, it appears it worked things out on its own.”

“Why?” Ensarrian asked, his tone sounding more curious than he had intended. “Why do you think? I can’t have my perfect war Wyverns being taken down by something as simple as other elements. I’m preparing y’all for whatever might be thrown your way,” Solmundr explained rather smugly. Ensarrian’s lips curled in a snarl, but his thoughts lingered on two words. Wyverns, y’all, as in there’s more than one. A flash of Sanyi’s scars in his mind reminded him that she, too, was a prisoner Solmundr had tortured. It seemed he planned on using her the same way.

“Which means,” Solmundr added, his grin growing wicked and serpentine. “I must prepare you for other possibilities, such as gasses and poisons. My prized Wyverns shouldn’t die all because a bomb was unexpectedly thrown your way.” Ensarrian’s blood ran cold, eyes widening for a moment. Poisons he said— that could kill him, cause pain far worse than drilling into his bones or wounds festering with infection. Some of the worst and most painful deaths a person or creature could have was caused by poisons, normally that of some type of animal. Snakes, insects, fish, only to name a few. “That one worries you, doesn’t it? You look terrified.”

“Do your worst,” Ensarrian hissed as he heaved himself to his feet. His balance wavered, legs like jelly under his weight. But he quickly regained himself and stared Solmundr down with a silent challenge. He refused to show any weakness. His body was not ready to hold his weight, bones screaming from it, but it was his mind, his spirit Solmundr was looking to break. He could do whatever he wanted to his body, because that was something that would heal with time. But once he breaks Ensarrian into submission, there’s no going back. He’d be nothing more than Solmundr’s mindless, heartless slave. Ensarrian would never allow that. “There’s nothing you can put me through that I’m not prepared to handle. You won’t break me.”

Solmundr was silent, lips thin with the smallest hint of a frown whilst his eyes were contemplating. And then he smiled, “We’ll see about that.” He turned and started down the hall. A swift wave of his hand ordered the men with him to make Ensarrian follow, keeping guard over the Wyvern whose power was far greater than their own. He could snap their necks, break every bone in their bodies if he wished. Their deaths would not be clean, but they would be quick, and they would no longer be an issue for him. But Solmundr was always prepared, even more so and guarded now since Ensarrian’s first escape. He could thank himself for that. If he so much as lifted a finger towards Solmundr, even just one of his men, Raziel would be killed. That was a risk Ensarrian could not take.

He followed them down the corridors, passing the enclosed room that reeked of blood. He could hear the ghosts of all those tortured in that room screaming in agony, begging for mercy and pleading prayers to the gods for help. Sanyi’s screams were among them, the only one that still sounded whole and alive. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, attempting to shut out the horrifying images and sounds from his mind. They took him to a different room. It was roughly around the same size as the torture room, but this one did not smell of blood. Instead cold air gave his skin chill bumps, the smell of mold wrinkling his nose with disgust. A large hole had been dug out of the floor, with more chains lining the walls and hanging from the ceiling. Within the hole, however, is what had his attention. Clear blue water filled it to the brim until it almost overflowed. The longer he stayed in the room, the more he realized just how cold the room was. White frost covered the dark walls in a thin sheet, the chains and shackles had crystals thick and shimmering. Keeping metal in such a cold place was not a good idea, especially if the purpose was to keep someone immobile. Cold metal could be easily broken.

That was when he began to figure out what this room was. A freezing room with water, the walls surely lined with some sort of insulation to keep the cold in a warmth out. It was another form of torture, a much less bloody one and more threatening and miserable. “Now,” Solmundr clapped his hands and rubbed them together, his breath visible in the cold air. Ensarrian’s own breath was fogging before him, so thick and clear he wondered if it would turn solid. “Chain him up right over there,” Solmundr pointed as he commanded one of his men. None of them were wearing anything to protect them from the cold, yet there were no signs that they were even bothered by the lack of heat. They must have taken some kind of cold resistant potion. Ensarrian sneered, “What, no stripping this time? Won’t it make this torture far more torturous?”

Solmundr cackled and shook his head, “Oh, no, that wouldn’t do any good. Keeping your clothes on will be far more enjoyable for me in the long run. Just picture it, being stuck in your cold and wet clothes without any heat to dry them off in your cell.” Ensarrian snarled, hands clenching until his knuckles turned white, his fingernails digging into his palms. He would be unable to warm up with wet clothes, extending his torture long after he leaves this room. “Weren’t you going to poison me?” He asked lowly. “Oh yes,” Solmundr replied with a smile of pure malicious pleasure. “That will be done before we put you in the water.”

“Then what’s the water torture for? It seems rather pointless to me,” Ensarrian dared to venture further. A low chuckle from Solmundr made his heart drop, “It is far from pointless, my dear boy. You destroyed my other base, killed some of my best men. And my supplies— do you have any idea how difficult it was to get ahold of it all? Most of it was incredibly rare to find, some even harder to get my hands on. And thanks to you, it’s all gone. I had to start over. It took me years to regain what I had lost, and I still don’t have the amount I had before.” His grin broadened. “This, and the drilling, was far from pointless. I’m making you pay for what you had done by making you suffer as much as possible. I simply love to watch you writhe in agony and scream until our ears bleed.”

With that, Solmundr stood at the door and watched. Watched as Ensarrian was shackled to the wall and injected with unknown poisons and toxins. Watched as his face twisted from the needles breaking his skin. Watched as he was dropped into the freezing water. And he stood at the edge of the pool, watching with the cruelest of all smiles as his men put a thick metal, frost covered plate over the top, and locked him in.

They must have given him something in one of the injections to interfere with his inner fire. Ensarrian was unable to warm himself, forced to endure the cold that enveloped him. Small holes in the metal plate was his only air supply. He had to press his mouth and nose to one as well as he could to breath, but he couldn’t keep the moving and high water from entering him anyway. It didn’t take long for his teeth to start chattering. His limbs were going stiff, making it difficult for him to keep himself afloat, body shivering. He could feel his fingers and toes stinging as if being prodded by pins and needles. By the time they had gone numb, he knew he was in a very bad position.

Soon enough, the numbness extended to cover his whole body. He could no longer feel his limbs move— no, they stopped altogether. Next, his lungs started burning for air. He couldn’t breath. The little bit of light seeping from the holes in the metal began to fade as he sunk to the bottom of the pool, darkness soon swelling around him. He tried to keep Himself awake, knowing if he could stay alive long enough Solmundr would come for him. A cruel and vicious man he might be, but Ensarrian’s death would be a great blow to him. He needed him alive, so surely he wouldn’t take this too far. “If you value her life, no matter what they do… don’t die.” Those words echoed in his head over and over. For whatever reason, Raziel’s life depended on him staying alive. That gave him even more reason to fight. But…he couldn’t use his flames. Unless Solmundr comes, he wouldn’t be able to break free to save himself.

Fear filled his heart when light suddenly filled the dark water. A splash followed, and he was pulled out of the water. “What the hell did I tell you?” Solmundr’s angry voice cut through the air as Ensarrian was dropped onto the floor, gasping for air. His lungs drank it in hungrily. “I told you to keep an eye on him! We want him alive, do you understand that?” A young poor bloke was on the receiving end of Solmundr’s wrath. He looked no older than Ensarrian, with freckles spotting his nose and cheeks and mousy brown hair. He wore an expression of shame and fear, nodding vigorously while squeaking a ‘Yes sir’. Solmundr rubbed the outer side of his eyes in circles, lifting and lowering his brows. After a few more moments of silence, he finally pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, “Take him back to his room.” The men lifted Ensarrian’s stiff and wet form was lifted and dragged out of the room. Warmth engulfed him as they entered the hall.

Once they reached his cell he was thrown on the bed as roughly as before. He was motionless for what felt like an eternity as he waited for his limbs to become less stiff. Feeling gradually came back to him, all but in his fingers, toes and nose. When he could finally move he wrapped himself in the blanket Raziel had left with him. But his wet clothes kept him cold, and even wet the blanket. Gaining warmth was a very difficult task, his teeth chattering, body and breath shivering out of control. His fingers and toes refused to move, and one glance at his hands confirmed his worst fears. His fingers were blue going on black at the tips. Frostbite. At this point they were probably beyond saving. But all he could do was wait for someone to come, either Raziel or Sanyi, or wait for his heat to finally return.

If Raziel was honest with herself, she would admit she was exhausted. There were too many holes to patch up. His chest was particularly painful for her heart, as she was present for that wound. Sanyi worked diligently, her skill praiseworthy for a beginner. The angel contemplated the tension she felt between the two victims. It was awkward and hesitant, curious and strong. She did not have to see it to sense it. Ensarrian's imperceptible body language beneath the painful flinches told her everything through her highly perceptive fingertips.

By the time they brought her to her room, Raziel's legs felt like lead. The angel fell onto the bed and curled into the fetus position Her mind kept running in circles, however, preventing her from sleeping instantly. It was preparing a hundred 'what if's' about Ian's next torture session and how to treat them. Eventually, the angel was able to drift into a dreamless sleep.

An unknown amount of time slipped by silently. When she awoke to an unfamiliar sound, Raziel's heart skipped a beat as someone gruffly grabbed her arm, dragging the groggy angel out of bed. The guard was quiet as he moved at his own pace, Raziel struggling to keep her feet underneath her. A yelp was stifled as she was nearly thrown into Ensarrian's room, falling into a heap onto the floor. The angel cast a glare in the direction of the closing door, sticking out her tongue childishly.

Even with the knowledge of where she was, Raziel took care in standing up, ensuring nothing got hurt on the way down. She was sure there was going to be beefy finger-shaped bruises on her arm. Maybe she should bring that up to Solmundr? When she was standing, Raziel turned to the bed as a sound was becoming painfully clear. Was he shivering? Teeth chattering? Concern filled the angel as she made her way to Ensarrian's side.

He was soaked the clothing freezing! Instantly, she searched for his hands, looking for his fingers. A "tsk" sound came from her at what she found; hard, waxy skin with absolutely no warmth to them. Chances were high that he would lose his fingers and toes if she stuck with her preferred natural solutions. Raziel cupped his hand in hers as she slowed her bringing and let her mana flow into him. It was channeled into a healing spell, bringing life back to the frozen phalanges. She allowed it to flow through him, saving that which would die after rewarming.

When she was satisfied, she dug through her bag of supplies. A bottle was lifted to his lips to bring down pain reception. With his help, Raziel sat Ensarrian up, pulling his top off. She would not let him continue to lay on this we bed. "I promise, brother mine, Sanyi is not with us. Let me unclothe you, wrap you in a blanket. I will make you a dry pallet in the corner and help warm you… But these clothes…" She tossed the wet blanket on the foot of the bed, fingers trembling as she unfastened his pants. Her cheeks were burning, turning a deep shade of red as she made him stand, supporting most of his weight on her small frame. Raziel did not pause to wonder how she was able to hold him, focused completely on his health. The angel seemed almost merciless as she forced even his underwear off, wrapping him in a blanket, fresh and dry from her bag.

Ensarrian was guided to sit at the edge of the bed, giving her the ability to make that dry, warm bed she promised. Blankets were pulled from her bag, several spread over top of each other. Raziel then supported the wyvern as she relocated him to the blankets on the floor. One final blanket was shaken and allowed to gently fall upon his form. However, she was not done yet. In fact, her face completely flushed again at the thought. The best way to warm someone was skin contact from another body. Raziel was sure Sanyi was not going to be a wise choice, even if she was there.

As her hands lifted to remove the dress, her blush deepening, she could feel them tremble. It occurred to her that she had never done this with anyone before. The dream with Najima did not seem to count as she was bathing and was already undressed. Not for a doctor, or a lover, had she ever stripped. So this was very as unnerving for her as it was for him. "Don't… laugh… or protest." The words escaped as the fabric slid over her skin and cascaded to the floor. There she was, in nothing but her undergarments, her pale skin almost flawless. Slowly, Raziel lifted the blankets to snuggle up against him. She made her way into the innermost blanket to wrap her arms around his bare chest.

The angel was careful not to disturb the blankets around his waist. Her wings tucked around them, an extra layer of soft feathers to help keep the warmth in. Despite the fact he was still quite frigid, Raziel could feel his embarrassment.  "Just so you know, I've never done anything like this before. I just… don't want to lose you." She buried her face in his chest. Her voice betrayed a well of tears hiding behind her eyes. It wasn't solely because her life was forfeit if she failed. No… He was far more important to her than that.

Ensarrian gifted her with protection, affection, and vision. In her travels, so many people seemed against her finding Gabe. If they had met back then, would hse have avoided some of the torture she endured? Regardless, he pulled her from bad situations and nursed her back to health. He was a dear companion in the weeks she was immobile. No, he was irreplaceable, and he had cored himself a huge hole in her heart. There would be no one who could fill it should he disappear forever.