Tales of the Void

Penance

A Short Story by

Black Waltz 0

†††

I have forgotten how much time has passed since I last saw the sky.

I was unconscious when they brought me out from under the mountains and clapped me in chains, and by the time I was conscious enough to contemplate my surroundings I was already deep beneath a different type of earth.

This is a result of my own foolishness. If anything I deserve all that I have been given, but it is not my desire to rot away in this prison cell for the rest of my natural life. There is decidedly more at stake here than worrying about something like that.

My name is Ravendor, and though I wished to live a fairly anonymous and comfortable discarded life that has been far from the case. I do believe this has always been the norm with me, despite having no memory of my past save for a handful of brief years.

I have no idea what has happened to my friends. Well… that is not entirely correct. I know that BW is in the custody of Acheron, and perhaps even very close by, but the fates of Zagtakh and Warren are unknown to me. It is my hope that they are alive and safe, yet it stands to reason that if they were indeed safe I may have been rescued by now. I highly doubt that they are dead, but if I am where I think I am it is very likely they are far away from here. I at least think that Zagtakh would not have escaped without seriously injuring a multitude of them, first.

It is difficult for me to piece together what had has happened in the world outside my cell since I have been placed here but I have learned a few things, mostly from the inquisitors and certain guards posted within the dungeon. The only reason I have not been executed is because BW still lives, and the only reason they keep her alive within the heart of Acheron is because simple killing her is no longer enough to assuage their fears of another war. BW's spirit has a habit of coming back in other shapes, it seems.

Acheron will only be placated when its highest mages discover a way to extinguish her soul. If that happens White will no longer have any opposition, and there is no more reason for Acheron to let me live. It would be a delicate process, born of the most advanced magic. That is probably why it has taken so long. Destroying the avatar of a god would be no small task.

To be honest I have hated the idea that I was 'gathered' by fate, or destiny, or what have you into where I find myself now. It would be far too easy to blame all my problems on fate. That is not how I do things anymore.

I suppose in a way I have learned a lot since I met BW.

This is such a cold, damp prison. It was chiselled far beneath the church and the lake, so moisture from the aqueduct system flows through the deeper levels of the dungeon. There are small canals in here built specifically to divert water build-up. It means that all the prisoners in here are never for want of water, but never so much in my life have I longed for clean, dry air.

The inquisition has been lenient with me so far. I have no information to give them, so they have no reason to ask. Apart from some roughing up each day I have been left whole and mostly unharmed. The pain is temporary and the wounds fast-healing, and if one knows the precise way to take a punch or a blow the pain is slightly diminished.

The inquisition is how I note the passage of days; it is a more reliable system than the irregular meals I am given every few days. If I manage to get out of here the first thing I will do is locate a tavern and have a large, hot meal. I cannot remember the last time I have had a hot meal.

No… I can think of something better. Though for all intents and purposes I have quit smoking having one or two every now and then caused no harm. In this cell I have run out long ago, and I thank the gods I was able to cut out the majority of my habit or else I would be climbing the walls right now.

Time passes, and there is nothing to do but wait. Like I said before, I am not sure of how long I have been festering down here, only that as each day passes I am both drawn closer to and pushed away from my hour of death. BW's unconsciousness is buying me more time, but it is frustrating to know that I am unable to do a single thing with it. But what am I meant to do with it? The upper levels of the dungeon are heavily guarded, and even if I could get out of this cell it would be difficult to reach the surface still breathing.

Entertaining any thoughts at all about rescuing BW would be suicide.

My cell is smallish, eight paces wide and very cold. Multiple people could fit inside this cell with me but instead I am on my own; all the other prisoners on this level are too far away for me to observe, yet I can hear them some nights; most nights actually. Those people who do not have a reason to be kept alive…

I pity those poor souls.

There is not much else to my surroundings, though mind you what more could you expect from the accommodations of a heretic? There is a cross-bar close to the ceiling of my cell but I'm not certain as to what its purpose is meant to be, but I can guess. It wouldn't be too far a stretch of the imagination to think that it is a cruel invitation to an execution of one's own; all I would need is a belt and a stool, and both I have in my possession right now.

But if I am to be hanged, as is my suspicion, I would prefer to have it done in public, outside, where I can see the sky. I will not die down here in this damp purgatory. This I promise you. So, instead of dwelling over its purpose I have been using it as a pull-up bar; it is better than doing nothing and it's the only small amount of exercise I can get besides pacing.

One morning, or evening (I can't remember which); there was a break in the clockwork prison routine. I had been asleep, or whatever ragged semblance of dejected slumber one could have while waiting for the gallows to open, still I sleep lightly and footsteps upon stone were enough to rouse me from where I had been sitting upon the edge of the bed.

Beyond the bars a figure stood in dark-grey robes. Its hood was pulled down over most of its face, which would have made seeing where one was going quite difficult, but I had a feeling that this figure did not see in any conventional sense of the word. Auditors are like marionettes, and according to what I heard from Warren long ago their brain activity is only a shade above deepest sleep. If an auditor stood here, in a place where an auditor wasn't meant to be then its intentions were clear.

There was an unpleasant ache in the side of my neck and shoulder as I awoke. I don't like to sleep sitting up if I can avoid it, but the living conditions in this cell are so appalling that on some nights I can sleep no other way. "I have been waiting a long time for you to appear." I say; my voice dry and scratchy as if I had never cut down on the tobacco at all. It is a pointless thing to speak with an auditor, for they are in no way able to answer you back. Perhaps for that reason I felt compelled to speak to this one, as I had remained silent for such a long time.

The auditor too remained silent. It stood stock still before the bars of my cell and did nothing. In the quiet I could almost hear it breathing and wondered which poor discard had been borrowed to manufacture this drone. I put a hand to the side of my neck and squeezed to try and work the pain out. It reminded me that I am not as young as I used to be, though the memories of that time are behind the shrouded fog each discard carries. I may be reunited with those memories soon.

"So you have found a way to destroy BW in such a way that her spirit will never return to the Void. That is why you are here." As they cannot speak putting words into their mouths are the only way to communicate with them. A nod or a shaken head is how they confirm words, or through simple robotic body language.

I have been an auditor myself in the past, or so I have been told.

It did not confirm or refute my statement; it didn't seem to hear me at all. It would be a lie to say that I would be unaffected should BW die, not only because her death is inevitably linked to mine, but because over the course of the journey I have grown to like her… in some small, trifling way. She no longer annoys me simply for the sake of annoying me, at least.

Anyway, there is something fundamentally wrong in harming a child, even in the purest of intentions. Acheron means to protect the Void from her, but in doing so they will damn it eternally. If BW is dead then all is lost. I rise from the bed. "You have come to take me to the gallows, have you not?"

This world is not my world, and it has never been my world; I acknowledge that fact. Even so, I have grown fond of this world and I don't want to see it die. It is filled with too many people who deserve to live.

For so long I had placed my own desire to leave the Void above all else, above reason and sensibility and… friends. I have made so many bad choices, and now this is where my selfishness has brought me. It is as if I can hear my own alastor laughing.

In three quick strides I walk to the bars of my cell and shove my arms through them, grabbing the auditor by the front of its robe and yanking it as hard as I can against the cell bars. "Don't you realise you are going to murder the wrong girl?" I shout perhaps a little too loudly, my voice reverberating throughout the dungeon.

The auditor cried out in pain as it was hauled against the bars. That was not what I had been expecting, and I nearly let go on reflex. Nearly. As it was my grip loosened slightly as the auditor tried to pull itself away. I did not have much range with my arms through the bars but after a moment of hesitation and of confusion I reached up and tugged the auditor's hood back.

This was considered a great taboo, but in such desperation I did not care. The threat of death can work wonders on one's sense of etiquette. Removing the hood of the auditor could reveal anybody, any discard, and to recognise the possessed face of a friend can be disconcerting for some. I remember BW refusing to talk to anyone for an entire evening after such an unmasking.

Dread fell upon me. I shouldn't have been so surprised, but I was. There is one person in the Void who has saved my life before, arguably multiple times, so why shouldn't they show up now at the end of all things?

In the briefest of seconds before I recognised the auditor, I had almost expected it to be Magi.

Mara pushed herself away from me and I let go. In retrospect there wasn't much difference from an auditor and a silent native wearing a robe impersonating an auditor. She appeared different from how I remembered her; older and grimmer, but then again that would be natural. I held onto the bars to hold myself steady.

"Oh my, Ravendor. You look terrible." She said with a tinge of concern.

Being trapped underground for so long has made me weak and tired, so I couldn't help but slump. "Mara, why are you here?" I paused, then added; "How did you get here?"

She took another step away from my cell and folded her arms. "Don't misunderstand." She said anxiously. "Acheron spread the word that they had captured the avatar of destruction and one of her followers. I had a horrible feeling that it was going to be BW and one of you, and when I finally stopped receiving letters from her each week it felt like my fears were confirmed." Mara looked away to examine something out of my field of vision. "Part of me hoped that it would be Warren or Zagtakh down here instead of you, but we do need to talk."

I had forgotten about BW's enthusiastic habit of writing to any and all of the people she met that showed the slightest interest in her journey. Disclosing a postal address to her was an invitation to aggravation. I still think I have a handful of her letters forgotten under a pile of books back home, somewhere. I reiterate myself, worried. "How the blazes did you manage to sneak into Acheron's most fortified dungeon?  The church is built on top of this prison!"

Mara seemed to come out of some sort of melancholic daydream at the sound of my raised voice. "Oh? That's exactly why I was able to get in. It was simple, really. I come to visit the Acheron headquarters every six months to get my stipend for taking care of the castle and the children. I had sewn this robe to resemble the robe of an auditor, and once they welcomed me in and I put on my disguise it seems like I can go anywhere now." She smiled wanly. "Nobody wants to stop an auditor if it looks like it knows where it's going."

Despite the situation I couldn't help but smile very briefly. Often I forget that Mara possesses both great patience and great ingenuity. "It was such a waste to forget about training you as a ranger. Your talents still surprise me."

She changed the subject much too quickly to heed the praise. Thinking about that part of the past may have been painful for her. "Are they really going to execute BW?"

"I believe that is their intention. You have heard the rumour yourself before coming here." Though it was nice to see a familiar face again, her presence troubled me. Magi had tried his best to keep Mara out of the encroaching thousand year war, and if she let me out of this cell and set me free she would be responsible for that action; she would be amidst the conflict all over again.

She seemed to consider things seriously. "If BW is the avatar of destruction wouldn't it be better if Acheron got rid of her for the sake of the Void?" Mara asked.

"You do not believe that." I tell her firmly. I don't presume to understand the innermost workings of Mara's mind, but of this I can be certain. "You have met BW before. Do you honestly believe she is all that Acheron accuses her of?"

Mara sighed sadly. "She's a sweet girl, I admit. Magi was willing to protect her. That must mean something."

"She is an irritation and an annoyance, but she does not deserve to die. I am…" I hesitated; this was hard to say, "… I am duty bound to protect her, if the legends are true. Release me from this cell and I will try to save her." In the beginning I would have attempted to escape this place on my own, but there is definitely more at stake here than my own life. Sometimes I find it remarkable how much I have changed.

Unexpectedly, Mara shook her head. "Oh Ravendor, I didn't come here to break you out of prison. I came here to ask you a simple question, though I'm terrified of asking it."

There is a ghastly sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can guess what the question will be. Honestly, after spending all this time in the dungeon it has been on my mind often as well. Isolation is the perfect environment for reviewing one's foolishness. "Let me out of here and I will answer whatever questions you wish to ask." There is really nothing more I can do.

"Do you swear that you'll be sincere with me? I know how good you are at twisting lies until it seems like the truth." She accused carefully as she reached a hand into the fold of her auditor robe. It was not just a nervous gesture; she actually seemed as though she were searching for something. Once more I was struck by the drastic alteration of Mara's personality, but what else could I expect from such a young, still grieving widow?

Her allegation stung. It is a talent I am normally proud of, but I had always tried my best to keep Mara from being exposed to that darker part of myself. "I do not know what you mean." I reply noncommittally. "I never-"

"Ravendor, please. I've known you longer than you have known yourself. Remember that you used to date one of my best friends, and she liked to gossip. You can't imagine all the stuff she's told me about you over the years." Mara argued before I could finish speaking. I have not actually seen Emily for about a year since I was last able to discern time, but we have had our share of arguments in the past, and she was easy to deceive.

"Let me out, Mara. I will not lie to you." At this point I am really beyond caring about the consequences. If I missed this chance to escape it was unlikely there'd be a second one.

"All right, I believe you for now." Mara replied and produced a ring of keys from a fold in her robe. It was heavy with at least two dozen keys on a silvery chain. Selecting one at random, she attempted to insert it into the padlock at the door of my cell. It would not go in. Slightly perturbed she tried a second one, and then a third.

"Have you heard from Zagtakh or Warren?" I asked as I rather impatiently waited for Mara to find the correct key. If I did manage to get away from Acheron being able to locate allies might mean the difference between life and death.

Mara glanced up from what she was doing for a moment, puzzled. "Why do you think I would know? I don't have any contact with either of them, but if they're clever they'll both be in hiding. Acheron wants them in this dungeon just as much as it wants to keep you here."

"I would hate to share a cell with Zagtakh." I mused openly before remembering something relevant. "If it helps, my cell is the twenty first one on this level of the dungeon." I would never have realised this fact if I had not started counting on the way back from a visit with the inquisition weeks ago, or if I am incorrect it certainly felt like weeks ago.

"Oh. You should have said that from the start." She murmured as she located the twenty first key on the chain and placed it into the padlock. I heard a familiar click as she twisted.

Just like that I was free to leave the prison that had become my life for so long. Living underground may be the perfect environment for a dwarf, but it wasn't for me. I was already aching to see the sky, the stars and the forest again. The elmdynirim in me helped to weather the imprisonment, yet it had been painful. Very painful.

Mara swung the cell door open wide, but as I moved to step out into the hallway she placed herself between me and the way out. She was neither a small or tall woman, nor was she exceedingly stout or thin. I could have pushed past her if I tried, but I didn't.

"Okay, I have done what you asked of me. Now you have to tell me the truth."

I had given her my word on this, but I did not want to make her even unhappier than she was right now. She was like a daughter to me, enough so that she had asked me to give her away at her wedding to Magi, as her biological father could never be there. Those had been happier times…

I cannot help but fear that I am about to make another grave mistake; a grievous error, but perhaps I am deserving of this. No, I am certain.

"I will tell you the truth."

Mara appeared a little surprised at the bluntness of my words. She hesitated and looked away, her lips moving silently as she tried to word herself correctly. When she looked back to me her eyes seemed direct, almost accusatory. "You… you killed Magi, right?"

This was a question that both she and I already knew, but no matter. "Yes, it was me."

"How did you kill him?"

I don't really understand why she would want to hear such horrible detail about her lost love, but I answer anyway. "I shot him in the back from close range, and then I held him down on the ground until he bled out." I did not tell her about the words exchanged or about the tears, both his and mine. There was no reason to make this even more difficult for her.

I could guess that she was trying her best not to picture what I was describing to her. "Did he suffer?" She asked, her voice noticeably shaken.

"Not excessively so. He accepted it with great peace." I may even be lying subconsciously to myself, but that was how I chose to remember it.

Mara nodded, but she didn't want to settle just yet. "Okay. This is what I have come here to ask you. Ravendor, why did you kill my husband?"

She had suspected it all along, and she was not satisfied with the explanation I had given her when his blood was stained on my hands. It is still there; though I no longer can see it I feel it branded like a curse. I had told her that I killed him in the brief moments before his alastor could erupt from his body, as that is a justifiable reason for one man to kill another in the Void, but that story had been a lie. Magi begging for death before he could become a monster was a lie. The only truth written within the story was that there had been a bullet… and death.

I hate myself for bringing such sadness to somebody that I love.

For the first in what feels like a long, long time I am completely unable to speak. I can't think of anything clever to say. Not a word. I flail frantically for a softer explanation and can find only truth; cold dirty truth.

"I killed him because I suspected he was going to help BW destroy the Void. Acheron prophesised of an elmdynirim gathered that would guide her to her destiny. Acheron gave me their word that they would send me back to my world if I aided them in the prevention of the war. I honestly thought that I would be protecting the Void from destruction."

I managed to say those words with a surprising amount of detachment, and I studied Mara's face as I spoke. She absorbed every word that I uttered quietly, but her body had gone as tense as a drawn bowstring. "But you said BW wasn't the avatar of destruction." She whispered softly.

"I was not aware of that at the time. If she was meant to be then she isn't now. I was wrong, and I found out too late. Magi was going to become a legendary hero and I cut his life short. I have performed a terrible deed…" And just as I know that I will never be able to forgive myself, Mara will never forgive me either. She is a very forgiving woman, but this goes beyond the limitations of anything she could excuse.

There was silence between us for several moments. It was the incalculable, imperceptible kind of silence where a thousand thoughts could rush through you all at once. Mara's face had grown ashen in the low dungeon light and she stared at me with uncanny intensity.

Suddenly she moved forward with such speed and force that I in my weakened state was unable to react fast enough. Her hand came up and I would have expected a slap, but instead she closed it into a fist and struck me so hard in the side of the face that I staggered; stunned by the blow. She was stronger than I would have given her credit for, but I suppose all the laundry she does for the castle probably helped.

Before I could recover she grabbed me again and this time she slapped me; a stinging accompaniment to the first strike. Rarely do I see Mara angry, but I have never experienced dark red fury of this magnitude before. She was possessed. "How could you do something like that?" she cried as she rained various attacks down upon me, "You killed Magi because you wanted to go home? Because somebody ordered you? He was your friend! He was my husband! I loved him!"

I did not fight back. There didn't seem to be much point. The edge of one of her nails clipped my face and drew blood. When I reached up to wipe it away she seized me by the front of my tunic and slammed me back against the wall of my cell. I hadn't realised she had pushed me that far. "Mara…" I began to say.

"Shut up!" She yelled as tears streamed down her cheeks. "You know, I should have known. I would have known if Magi's alastor were about to come into the Void. I knew I wasn't going to have him for very long and I had accepted that. Because of Acheron and this stupid war he was gone for so long, but then he finally came back. Now he's gone forever and it's all your fault! Bring him back!"

"I can't do that, Mara." I said carefully.

"Liar! Make him come back!" She sobbed.

"If I could I dearly would Mara, but I can't! No one can!" I worried about all the noise she was making and whether it would alert the guards, but I didn't worry half as much about that as I did about Mara. Her grip on me loosened and she sagged as she cried. She would have fallen to the floor if I had not grabbed her by the arms.

"I should have listened to you when I first found you. You are a villain. I should have left you there in the forest." She whispered quietly as she held back another sniffle.

That was practically the most hurtful thing Mara could have ever said to me. I've always wondered what I had meant by those words, spoken before I had lost my memories. What kind of man had I been? Was I lawful or a thief, a traitor, a murderer? I had tried my hardest to distance myself from that notion, but it had caught up to me in the end.

I said nothing and held onto her until she seemed to calm down. It took some time, but I tried to remain patient while the doorway to my freedom was mere feet away. Eventually she let out a great shuddering sigh, the accumulation of months of uncertainty, grief and sadness. It felt like most of her anger had leaked away.

"Knowing that… knowing all this I should just lock you back up in this cell and wait for them to hang you."

"You could do that, yes."

"But you would fight back, wouldn't you?"

I considered the idea. "I might, but I do not think I deserve a second chance after all I have done."

What Mara said next surprised me a little. "Magi and I loved each other very much, so much, but did you know that he loved you too? He always thought that I didn't know, but I did. Did you know about that?"

I had had my suspicions but it had been easier to ignore than deal with it, especially when he and Mara had been so happy together. I don't love anybody in that sense, and I don't think I ever will. "I knew."

Mara pulled herself away from me and tried to compose herself. She wiped her tears away and breathed deeply to silence her shudders. "I should hate you for what you've done. I want to hate you. It's hard. I can't help but think about all the good memories we've shared over the years."

She stared at the floor, but her voice was resolute. "I'd lock you back in here but you still need to rescue BW, if she's as important as you say she is. You might be killed in the attempt, but right now I don't care. I don't want to see you again for a long, long time, do you understand? Maybe never."

"It's understandable."

Mara pulled her hood back up until she resembled an auditor once more, albeit a slightly dazed one. She tugged the hood once again for good measure, similar to the tipping of a hat in farewell. "Goodbye Ravendor. Thank you for telling the truth this time."

She turned and left the cell, walking off down the hallway in the gait of the auditor. I was impressed that she was still able to act her disguise despite her condition.

I could take it no longer. I darted to the doorway of my cell and shouted down the corridor; "Mara!"

She did not seem to hear me.

"I'm sorry, Mara! If I could bring him back I would! I swear!" I was so frantic I wasn't even that certain what or why I was shouting. It didn't matter though, because soon she walked around the corner and then she was gone.

I ached all over from both Mara's fit and the inquisition beating one sleep ago. Some of the ache was not even physical. Slowly I stumbled back to my bed and sat on the edge of it again. I wanted to wait until I was certain that she had left the dungeon, possibly even the church itself safely before I escaped. If I were caught leaving the dungeon they would have to wonder who let me out, and if that happened I wanted to make sure Mara's visit and my escape appeared as disjointed as possible.

After staring at the open door for a few seconds I got up again and pulled it closed, tossing the opened padlock into the lavatory where it would hopefully rust. If a guard came by perhaps they would assume I am still locked in.

It was quiet again, as it always was. I had freedom in my grasp and yet I was in despair; it felt like in a few misguided actions I had unmade all of my happy years living here in the Void.

Pressing the palm of my hand against the bridge of my nose I sighed deeply and waited, waited until I was ready to go.