Nethermost Realm: Prisoner of Arlunn

Chapter 32

Please note: I am updating this draft of The Prisoner of Arlunn. The most important change is that the main character's name has been changed from Philip to Rian.

32

The following morning, Rian awoke to a thud and found Arryk poised over him with a dagger, looking puzzled. "You set a deflect spell," said Arryk, disappointed.

Rian sat up. "Yes."

"Well done. Who taught you that?"

"Quince."

"Show me."

Rian set the spell again. Arryk stabbed him again, but the blade deflected without doing any damage. "Good," said Arryk. "Come on out, there's some breakfast for you. Then you can practice shielding with Braejeunné."

Relieved at not being stabbed again, Rian came out and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast.

For several days Arryk, Braejeunné and Quince took turns training Rian. He'd gotten faster at the spells and perhaps was gaining a little endurance. Arryk was relentless and tireless, or so it seemed. And none of Rian's pleas to go back to Arlunn got a response.

"Not yet," said Arryk, determined to keep control of the situation. Rian gave in and worked as hard as he could. He had little choice—the alternative was usually painful.

Rhana spent several hours a day or so drilling him in vocabulary, especially magical vocabulary. "If you can't speak, then you can't do anything," she said. He couldn't do anything, anyway, so it seemed.

Quince tutored him in the principles of the paravescea and also in the vocabulary needed to discuss it. This took some work, as Quince had to describe each thing until Rian could figure out what each word meant. It was a tedious process. A dictionary would have been helpful, but there was no such thing—not into English, anyway.

That night, after all the others left, Rian reset both the deflect blade and the light armor spell—to be ready for anything in the morning.

For awhile, he tried reading some of the books Quince left, but they were still too difficult for him. He lay awake for awhile, but there was nothing to do, so soon he began to fall asleep.

Then he felt something shift. Something wasn't right. He thought he woke but then bits of the building began falling apart, stone by stone and collapsing to the ground. It felt dreamlike—surreal. He sat up in bed, not sure what he was seeing as the wall and part of the ceiling began tumbling away, the chaos approached his cell and Rian grew afraid.

The ground trembled and now Rian worried that this was real, not a dream.

The cell wall flew apart and the stones cascaded down around him. Rian tried to hold on, but there wasn't anything to hold on to. He tumbled out of the room and down a small hill, landing on top of a large building stone, crushing his right hand. From there, he fell off and to the ground with a thud.

He lay face-down, dazed and confused. He heard voices and looked up and saw some students. But it wasn't Arryk. At first he didn't recognize them. Then he saw Shaz and his heart froze. Shaz and his team must have attacked the fortress, casting a dispel magic on the stonework construction.

Rian struggled to get up, but his right hand hurt. He was certain that he'd broken his hand. Before he could either hide or try to heal his hand, someone saw him.

"There's one, over there!" It was Chlan, running his way.

Rian got to his feet and ran.