Chapter 13
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Chapter 13

Dren ran as quickly as his feet would carry him down the granite hallway. He was covered in a lattice-work of gashes and stab wounds. He felt woozy from blood that pumped out of him in ungodly amounts, but still he barreled forwards.

He wouldn’t let his comrade’s sacrifice be in vain.

Filled with grim determination, Dren rushed through the servants corridors towards the emperor’s private chambers. He had poured over the maps their informant had given them for months, committing every detail to memory. His instinct guided him unerringly, ever towards the false Emperor.

Dren summoned the rest of his endurance and poured on as much speed as his broken body could muster and rushed towards another corridor branching off on the left from the hall he was in that led directly to the emperor’s chambers. Dren knew he was going to die soon, but he would slaughter Emperor Evrain before he was felled.

He had to.

As he turned into the corridor he was met with a blinding flash of pain. His vision danced with memories of brutal torture and it felt as if his mind had been set on fire. Agony screamed through every nerve ending in his brain.

Inquisitors.

“This isn’t real. Keep going!” Dren thought.

A metalvine slammed into his side. His kidney burst in an explosion of pain. When had they arrived?

Dren fell to his knees.

More blows. More memories of torture.

Dren’s mind erupted in agony.

“No no no no nonono…please not again!” He pleaded as pain racked his spirit. “What have I done? Why are you doing this to me? Please, just stop, just stop, just stop, just stop, Dren found himself thinking as he remembered the sickening squelch that his fingernails had made when they had slowly pulled them out one by one and drove them back down on the bleeding stubs where they used to be, causing him to scream in agony. “Why me? I never did anything to you! Why are you torturing me?”

These weren’t his memories.

“Fight! Fight them!”

He remembered them dislocating his shoulders and throwing him in a well, forcing him to tread water with his mangled arms or die.

But they wouldn’t let him die.

When he’d given up and decided to let himself slip into oblivion in the cold embrace of the water they had pulled him out, not even having the courtesy to let him die.

He’d tried to kill himself more than once, but they had kept a constant watch on him until he was so broken that the pain had become a way of life. 

“This isn’t me! This isn’t real!” Dren thought desperately as they continued to batter his body and soul.

I’m gonna die here, but if I can share my memories with one of them there may still be hope.” he thought as he steeled himself to the pain and focused all of his quickly ebbing energy into recalling his knowledge of the horrors committed by their so called ‘savior’

“This is it, it has to work.” Dren thought as his life kept slipping from him.

Summoning the last remaining ounce of strength he had, Dren unleashed a titanic wave of memories.

If one of the Inquisitors received them, they would surely carry on the fight.

It had to work.

They had to receive his memories!

Nothing happened.

Had it?

Dren looked at the Inquisitors. Madness danced in their eyes and a religious fervor informed every movement.

Nothing had changed.

They still worshipped their false god.

He’d failed.

He damned them.

Dren’s hope died with him.

*****

“No! I was promised! You swore to me!” Kelrian screamed as he saw the Inquisitors descending upon him, metalvines raised.

He had done everything they wanted! He had betrayed his comrades! He was promised wealth! They promised him they would make him forget what he’d done to his comrades.

“You said you’d pay me handsomely! You swore you’d give me a large reward!”  Kelrian cried.

His mind flashed with horrific images.

The Inquisitors had began their tortures.

“No! No! NO!!!”  He wailed as the memories ate his mind away.

A metalvine swung down and shattered Kelrian’s jaw. 

“You’re right. I did promise you a reward for what you did,” Edrien Wolls stared down his hawkish nose at the pitiful man. He swilled the saliva in his mouth and then spat in Kelrian’s face. “Here it is.”

End of Prologue

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