Nethermost Realm: Prisoner of Arlunn

Chapter 16

It wasn't so bad, for now. But years from now, Kyran might get quite frustrated living here. And what would happen when Rian finished school, if he ever did, and went back to Chuness or to Earth or wherever it is he would eventually go. Would Kyran be here still?

Not having Rian around during the day was all right. He didn't mind being on his own. And he had some teachers coming in now. Renna, the artist. She was teaching him drawing and maybe soon, painting. He liked art. You could draw whatever you wanted.

But he liked history even more, despite the fact that Professor Ilan tended to be a bit dry and full of obscure facts. Kyran kind of liked that.

It was Lord Senen that scared Kyran. He was tall and dark. He taught law and the rules of the Arlunni. Rules which Kyran must obey or suffer the consequences. This fact he droned on and on about. In fact, Kyran was sure that Senen hoped Kyran would disobey, so that he could be destroyed.

Kyran had a sense for people and what they were thinking, though not necessarily what they were feeling. And Lord Senen's thoughts towards Kyran were dark and negative.

It displeased Senen that such a being as Kyran existed at all. But then, a lot of people seemed to feel that way, including one of the guards—named Lask. Kyran didn't deliberately read people's minds, though he felt he could ... if he really wanted to. Lask's thoughts towards Kyran were so loud and so negative that he could feel them hovering over him even now, as the broad, short bearded guard stood, bored, next to the tower door.

It wasn't just that Lask felt inconvenienced at having to stand for an entire shift at the door—it was that his hatred of the magic-spawn emanated from him every moment he entered the room. For the most part, Kyran had managed to ignore the guard. It should be comforting to have someone there with him. But Kyran couldn't help having black thoughts towards this guard and towards Lord Senen.

Still—killing people was against the law of the Arlunni. One mustn't kill. Of course, the Arlunni could kill—if they wanted to. But that wasn't considered evil.

The hatred fueled inside Kyran and he felt his eyes turning red. So he stood and took five deep breaths, as his brother Rian had taught him. Let it go, Rian always said. It's not worth it. Of course, Rian had gotten into many fights at school over words with classmates. So, maybe his methods didn't always work.

But the nightmares were getting worse.

That night, Kyran fell asleep and dreamed that he trudged through a horrible desert where huge skeletons, the size of dragons, rotting on deep, rocky canyon floor. His hands were chained. He was a prisoner in a long line of captives being herded through the desert, thirsty, hungry and beaten. Then something come after them. They ran and their captors whipped them to go faster. They heard the snarling of some ravenous beast behind them. Terror welled up in him. They would die. Their captors would leave them to the beasts.

Finally, when they had no way to outrun the animal, they stopped. The captors cut loose the rearmost prisoner and pushed him towards the animal. A claw grabbed him and pulled him back behind a rock. His scream was cut short by a crunching of bones.

Nauseated Kyran threw up. Someone hit him hard across the head. "Stay alert!" And they began running again.

Kyran woke screaming. Someone stood over him and grabbed him by the throat. Just for a moment, Kyran glimpsed the murderous thoughts in his head. Kill him. No one will blame you. Slit his throat!

Kyran thrashed around, shouting and trying to break free—his mind scrambling to separate dream from reality. "Shut up!" the man shouted at him and backhanded him hard across the face.