Prison

 

 

Opening the little treasure box, the mage took out a book that was as thick and blocky as a red brick. Unlatching its front and back covers from each other, he opened it up and flipped to the front of the book. He struggled to turn past the first few pages; the power in those pages was fighting him. Each page that he passed was a white sheet filled with scribbles that no one could read but him.

He came to a stop to stare at a single outstanding page that shone a brilliant blue and gold. It was what he was after and had anticipated reading. Unfortunately, he was interrupted.

"What'cha got there?" Another man was peering over his shoulder.

"A Bible," was the mage's response as he clapped the book shut and secured the clasp. The precious book was returned to the little box, mingled with other objects of great importance, before he closed that box too and took it under his arm. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought we might go out for a stroll." The man, or perhaps it would be better to describe him as a teenager, bounced back on his heels to give the old mage some space to breathe. "There is this great spot I've heard about. No one has been there, from what I've heard."

"That means fools only go there to get themselves killed. Everyone has been everywhere. No patch of Earth is untouched." The mage shook his head and began to wander away from the youth. He blinked and saw where he was. He'd forgotten how busy this hall was. Was he really just now inspecting his treasures in this public drinking tavern? Maybe he was getting too old.

"C'mon. You said it yourself, for fools only. So if you tag along, I won't have a problem. You're the wisest ass I know." With gusto, the teen guffawed at his own joke.

"I said no, and you stay away from there too. If your mother finds out I was with you when something happened--"

"Nothing will happen! You can portal us out of there instantly if something comes up." This kid was nearly down on his knees. Was he going to beg this old man to follow him into death?

"No! You will not tempt me and neither will you go. I forbid it!" The mage pointed directly at this young man. "If you test me, I will lay a damning curse upon you. One that will be felt for the rest of your living years."

"Oh, like what? You gonna make me fat and ugly? Did that one to Pa and my mother, your daughter, is still married to him. Bleh, still fucking--"

"Watch your language!" The old man bristled at this rude child's behavior being watched by all. Or was it both of them who were being witnessed? Did he play a part in this attention? Perhaps this would be best concluded elsewhere. "Stand still."

"Huh? WhhhAYAAAAAH!" That teen dropped through the floor like it suddenly had a hole through it. With him, the mage dropped as well, but there had been no sign of any vacancy for them to fall through. It was a perfectly solid wooden floor where they had been standing.

Then it was a rocky surface that the boy landed his ass painfully on. The mage simply hopped on the air an inch above the ground and settled easily on his aching feet. Ruffling his great black robes out, the mage squatted down on his haunches and glared at the youth.

"You will do well to respect my wishes while I yet live. If not, the curse I place upon you will be equal with your greatest nightmares." The glare from the old man was unwavering, wide-eyed, and stern enough to appear statuesque in his posture. Like a perching dark and forbidding gargoyle.

"That would be a contradiction." This boy smiled up at his grandfather. "You'd be doing something worse than whatever awaits us in that no-man's-land."

For that, the old man waved the boy off in disgust. "If that is what you believe, then you lack imagination of what the gods can conjure. I’m far older and wiser than you, but I’m a mayfly and a simpleton compared to those immortals who have lived and contemplated infinite possibilities since the beginning of time."

With a perplexed look, the youthful man looked up to think on what the old mage had just said. "So what you're telling me is you'll come?"

Shaking his head at this boy, the mage replied, "What gave you that impression?"

"You just talked about the gods. I assumed you already know where I want to go." The young man was smiling brightly.

It took a moment for this old man to figure out what his grandson was talking about. Then he vehemently said, "Not on your or anyone's life am I taking a soul there!"

"Why not?"

"That is a prison for a god! One that shall never walk this Earth again. We cannot go there, even if I were to try. Our mortality prevents us." The mage stroked his face harshly. To think this boy was suggesting that they visit a ruin that was best left alone and forgotten.

"I'm going. I don't plan on tampering with anything, just to see it." There were no more smiles from this lad. He raised himself up from the ground and gave the elder a serious expression. "I'm not afraid of losing something, even my life. Everyone knows I'm going. I'll be the first to be mentioned trying to adventure there. That's history!"

"You want to be remembered?"

"Yes!"

"As a suicidal idiot?"

"Fuck you!" Before the boy could wave off his grandfather in dismissal, he was thrown to the ground. He didn't see or hear the old man move and when he looked, the aged man hadn't lifted a finger. "What just hit me?"

"I warned you about your language." Perfectly still, the old man stood, not twitching a single muscle in his tired body. "If you try me one more time, I'll sew your mouth shut."

"Hypocrite. You warn to keep me safe to threaten me yourself." He got up from the ground again.

"Alan, I'm trying to keep you alive. At least sinew can be cut out."

The youth, Alan, stared in disbelief at his grandfather. "You were serious about sewing my lips closed?"

The old man lifted a white brow. "You doubted me?"

"I'm done. I'm gone. I'll find someone else to get me there." That said, Alan turned and walked from the man he had hoped would be an unquestioning loyal companion. Those were hard to come by these days when times were hard on everyone.

A sigh escaped the old man's lips. "Only to see the ruins? Nothing more?"

Alan stopped, but did not turn around to face his grandfather. "Yes. That's all I want. I told you, everyone knows I'm going. When I'm there, I'll turn around and head back home."

"This is a mistake, but I'll take you there under the condition that you listen to every word I say. If anything goes wrong, you must obey me. No matter the consequences of what I say, obedience is important for our souls, let alone survival." The old man shook his head, knowing full well what was at stake in adventuring into the land they were talking about.

That made the boy turn around again with a smile. "I'll listen and follow every word. I won't let you down."

"Then we should be going. Get this done and over with." With a huff, the mage stomped the ground. In as quickly, out again, the two fell through the floor without as much screaming from Alan...

---

In all of the world, one would expect the location of an imprisoned god to be the most inhospitable region. High mountains, deep deserts, or even the frozen ice lanes of the far North. Someplace that would prove that natural life could never co-exist with supernatural.

Yet this was a grassland filled with little critters bouncing and hopping back and forth from their little burrows in the ground. Each head that poked out was to watch for the coast to be clear before their furry little bodies jumped out to scamper through the tall blades of yellow grass. They tended to gather around a body of water.

This large pond wasn't natural. It was the flooded ruins that acted as a jail for the divine. Within the waters sat the concrete marble of great pillars and a structured wall that had once been so high that all it left of its glorious height was the fallen rubble littering the landscape. Great vines traveled up and acted as the new fortification for this ruin like a grown hedge wall. Its green and colorful floral patterns caused the ruin to stand out in the middle of the golden plains.

With a start, the innocent creatures that watched the land shot upright when two individuals fell out of nowhere.

Their presence to the ruins woke me up.

With a single eye upon them, I watched as these two commented to one another in a familiar manner. One brushed himself off, the other simply slouched and sighed with grief at the younger. I felt power coming from the old man, but the young one intrigued me. It was him who gave me the impression he desired to be here.

I couldn't get close enough to hear what words passed those lips. It was obvious they were yelling at one another. I wasn’t sure why? Did they not want to be here? I could imagine why not, but it was apparent that they came with purpose.

The boy at least did.

He ran from the old man toward me. Well, more accurately, to my old home. This temple didn't really feel all that welcoming anymore. I couldn't get out. There was no one who believed in me to enable me to travel anywhere. No minds that would think of me and allow me to be at their side.

All gone except this home. A ruin.

I shouldn't be letting the past get me down. Presently, there was company! That was something new and very welcome. How could I feel anything other than happiness when there were those who chose to visit me?

What was that old man doing?

"Oh, no you don't." With the fluid flick of my long wrist, I paralyzed his mind. That man was going to teleport them away before the boy could reach here. Fine, the boy can come in and that old fart can stay out there to babble and slobber. Besides, I didn't like old men drooling over my appearance. It was disgusting.

The boy, on the other hand, now that was an arousing display that I could entertain myself with. How long had it been since I’d enjoyed a harem of young men? I'd forgotten. At least their touch and pleasure had never left me. I still retained their lust for me.

"What is taking that boy so long? Oh..."

There should have been a stair down there to let him reach my home. Instead, water had flooded the area so the poor boy was up to his waist. Perhaps I should help him up? Maybe best I leave him to his own devices. That way he could feel accomplished when reaching me!

I liked that idea.

Sitting back, I waited for him to approach the very peak of the ruin. When he arrived, his eyes were glowing with wonder at the surroundings. I smiled, but then my happiness faded when he stared past me.

I’d forgotten. I didn't exist in their world. My power could influence them, but there wasn't anything of me to share with them. Only the force of my will could be shoved into their minds. Unless they were willing, it would only do what it had done to that old man and leave them feeble-minded.

Sighing, I didn't know what to do. This was my very first visitor in so long. All the others had only come for glory or plunder, but I felt this boy wanted to be here and see this place for what it was. He didn't want to take anything.

"I've had enough. I don't want to be alone anymore." I was tempted. So very close to doing to him what I’d done to all those who lay in the bottom of the waters below. Would I want to assault his mind as well to keep a warm body close by?

Shaking my head, I knew that wasn't what I desired. I wanted to talk with him. Be with him. Have an actual conversation with someone other than the empty wind. Even if it was for a single second, I would give anything for him to look my way and see me.

Looking out across the plains, I saw the old man regain a portion of his senses. That was curious. How had he recovered?

Passing the boy as he took in the high sight of all that the ruin contained, I approached the border of my jail. That man was walking with determination. He would take the boy from me.

Looking back at that young man, I wondered what to do. What right did I have to keep him? He was no creation of mine. Yes, he came and I welcomed him, but that was no more than a gesture of hospitality. Not an indefinite sentence of isolation, like me. He could leave.

Only he wasn't leaving. He would be taken from me. That was different.

Returning to glare at that old man, I waved my hand to stop him as before. This time, he was prepared and only staggered. If he were not so old, his legs would have made it to the ruin by now. Luckily, time treats mortals harshly.

Shame I hadn’t thought of any better way to deal with powerful beings like him in all this time.

"Ack!" Flinching, I recoiled from my border at the force that hit me. What was that? It felt like a wind, but nothing blew my way. Again! I retreated from my border as that man came closer. I couldn't believe it. He was more powerful than me?

Even if he held more wealth of knowledge, he was still mortal.

"ALAN!" The man was yelling that word. 

"What language, what language?" Shaking my head, I stirred all the knowledge I had of every mind I’d touched for that word. If I could just hear a bit more, I would now be capable of at least learning of their culture. Then I would have the edge of knowing what sort of minds they had. Their ways of living How this man intended to survive this. 

Everyone had their own beliefs. Great men in snow-capped mountains held onto morals that would carry them onto an afterlife. The plain riders fell to the ground under the thunder of a wrathful god to show their devotion and seek glory in their lives. Tribes of the Northmen would adventure to the beyonds for the chance of a dreamlike quest to be remembered. Southern scholars would journey the world for the lost works and an old world to discover a greener field on the other side of their lives. 

There were so many. All I had to do was figure out who they were and I'd know.

"ALAN! DO YOU HEAR ME!" He croaked out a roar in both fear and anger. Despair for what may have happened to the boy.

I hadn’t done anything to the boy. Not yet.

Looking back at the youth, I now knew what language they spoke and what name this child had. Northmen. I should have guessed by how this young one was behaving with interest in my home. Simply put, I was too blinded by the thrill of having company to see him for who he was.

It pained me a little that he was not here for me, but my home. If he enjoyed it so much, then he could have every waking memory I carried of this place. I didn’t care if I lost my eternal coil, I wanted to experience the world once more. Even if it was for a flashing second.

With shaking hands, I grabbed him by the shoulders and watched as my palms passed through like I was nothing. He didn't react to my touch, for it wasn't a true contact with his flesh. That wasn't my target. I wanted what brightly glowed with promise in his core. That spirit residing within him.

Once I touched that, he responded by going rigid. I stopped with alarm and held still. I didn't want to hurt him, much less kill. Taking this slowly, I resumed. Very gradually, as slowly as the old man coming up to confront me, I penetrated his soul.

He clutched at his abdomen. I had to crouch down and kneel with him as he fell to his knees.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just deal with this a little longer." At last, I felt the very center of his being. Removing one of my hands, I stabbed through myself and grabbed a hold of the core to my own endless spirit.

Like a conduit, I flooded him with all that I was...

---

Huffing and puffing, the old mage had landed on the watery steps and stumbled to the broken rails for support. He had to reach the top. Alan had to still be there. He felt it in his old bones that the boy still lived. It was a question in what condition, but there had been no screams from the top. That was a good sign.

At least, he hoped it was a fortunate sign.

In due time, he hastened his steps until he managed to find one of the final stairs. He so wished to use his magic and instantly be at the top, but there were only so many times he could use that in a day. Thrice he had used it and the fourth backfired within his mind.

The fifth and final had to be utilized to escape from here, but not without the boy.

Almost hurtling himself forward, he crawled along the last stretch of the stair and railing to the top. His bleary sight caught the silhouette of a figure ahead. A hopeful excitement had grown in him, recognizing the clothes on that youth's back.

"ALAN!" His voice was growing hoarse.

It took a moment, but the mage made it back on his feet. His eyes scanned and darted every which way in search of the residual energies of the god that was kept here. He found nothing. It was as if she’d never existed. That was impossible. He’d felt it when that abomination skewered his mind and left his body a shamble upon the grassy field.

For now, it didn't matter so long as he could retrieve his family and be gone from this place.

"Alan, we are leaving." As he closed in, the magic began again for the final time today. It took a little more effort than he was regularly used to for the two of them. It felt like he was dragging a great weight with him, like a wide mountain through a narrow valley, but he did it.

They escaped the ruin. But though the mage aimed a their home, they did not arrive there -- a waypoint for the weary, hurt, and frightened detected the mage’s distress and intercepted them.

Both of them landed back in the tavern, forever an establishment to help those in need, and the one doing all the desperate magicking had needs. The old man did not have the strength to catch his fall and fell hard upon his back. It was the same for his grandchild.

A few of the patrons came to their assistance.

One robust man helped up the bundle of black robes on the ground. "Are you alright? Where did you..? Oh, Arangard. You getting to be too old for those tricks?"

"Shove off. I've had to confront the worst nightmare in my life. Alan." The mage turned. "How is Alan?"

There had been a curvy wench kneeling down to where Alan had landed. "Looks good. You okay, Sweetums?"

The old man took a step towards the two and stopped cold in his tracks. He had looked everywhere for that god's presence except where it mattered most. 

Now he felt it. 

That great lurch of force he’d had to exert to pull both of them through the portal should have been the giveaway. It was his exhaustion that he had blamed it on. Now there was a chance his oversight could have cost his grandson everything. What would his daughter think if he brought her this mindless child? Would he have to care for him? Feed, clean, and labor to keep this young man alive and well?

Or would it be best to end his misery?

It had been only for a moment, but the mage had felt what it was like to be feeble-minded. Only for that moment and it was terrible. How this child would endure a long lifetime of that was too much to comprehend.

With a trembling whisper, he asked: "Alan. Please tell me you are okay?"

I glanced up at that old man and smiled, replying to both the wench and he who would now be my grandfather, "I'll live."