#I'm also about to break 250k words on salad stories this weekend and

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Darkness

Thorns & Jasmine

In which things have gone really dark, and our boy is very close to losing his mind.

Warnings: Captivity, blinded, brief suicidal ideation (as in contemplating using too much magic so it could be lethal), aftermath of torture (burns, cuts, broken bones, wounds)

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Dark.

Everything was so dark.

Caldyn was lying on his back, staring into endless darkness. Nothingness. Was it the same? He couldn’t recall having ever been in true darkness before. The forest was always bright, even at night. The sky with the two moons, never new at the same time, and littered with countless stars. Even if it was cloudy, many plants in the Wilds glowed at night, too. Their bioluminescent blooms and leaves came in so many different colors. In his home, most of them had been golden or pale yellow, with occasional streaks of red and purple.

And even if he couldn’t see the sky, was far away from the plants, walking through the tunnels in his parent’s bark or exploring caverns, there had been his own glow to illuminate him the way; bands in the bark of his body, shimmering at night in a pale green. It had always been there, every moment of his life.

Now, there was nothing. All that was left was unbearable pain, and the Scourge, whispering at the edge of his consciousness. It was louder now, closer. Threatening him, luring him. There was nothing to distract him from it. He couldn’t watch the branches and leaves anymore, as horrible as they had been. It was quiet and windless, and the occasional sound in the distance did nothing to calm him. Every rustle, every whisper made him wince, quickening his breaths.

He was afraid. Terribly, utterly afraid. Afraid to breathe, when every breath filled his chest with fire. Afraid to move, even though his arms were tense, his back cramping. Afraid of what would become of him when he gave in, and what they would do to him if he didn’t. Wondering how they would torture him next, what else they would take from him.

There had been this hope, this tiny sliver of hope that someone could have noticed he was gone, would come looking for him.

This hope had died, had dripped away with each drop of sap leaving his body.

Even if someone had noticed he was gone, how should they find him? When he had attempted to escape, when the Ceodh had dragged him back through the endless tunnels, he had seen the other victims. Sometimes he could still hear them scream, distant, but loud enough that the terror behind their voices made him shiver. No one had come looking for them, either. No one would.

He would die.

He didn’t want to die, still didn’t, but he wasn’t afraid of it anymore. Whatever would be waiting for him in the aether, it couldn’t be worse than this. What he was afraid of was how he would die, if they’d even allow him to. It wasn’t the first time he wondered if this was the one thing he could possibly still decide himself.

When he tried to lift his right hand, pain seared through his shoulder. He gasped, freezing, trying to figure out where it came from. He couldn’t remember an injury at this spot, but the last hours had all but vanished in a fog of agony and despair. Or had it been days? He couldn’t even tell anymore, had no way to figure out how much time had passed.

He flexed the vines in his arm, and it hurt, but now that he was expecting it, it wasn’t so bad anymore. Not worse than any of his other injuries. Something must have torn inside his shoulder when he had tried to free himself from the Ceodhs’ grasp. Perhaps the vines had ripped, perhaps even the wooden core snapped. It didn’t matter. He raised his hand again, pushing it upwards against his side. He had to keep pausing, barely able to breathe through the pain.

Then finally his fingers rested on his core, trembling as he took a shaky breath, attempting to concentrate. Usually, there was energy in him, the energy he could use in the shape of life magic. He could feel it in everything that was alive, it guided him when he healed others, he had drained it when he had killed the Ceodh.

There was nothing left of it now. The only thing that remained was the energy that was his very life; and it was slowly but surely running out, too.

He had never tried to use it before, and he wasn’t even sure if he could. It wasn’t made for this. He instinctively knew that it would weaken him, perhaps even kill him. It was tempting to try. Instead, he let his hand sink with a choked sob. He couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t even hope that made him cling to life, it was despair. The moment he had concentrated on the aether, the Scourge’s whisper had become louder. It was everywhere, it was waiting for him, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to fight it off. What if it could take control over him when he became too weak, if it perhaps could even take over his body when his mind left? Not that he believed that this broken husk he was trapped in would be of any use to the Scourge.

But what if it was.

Suddenly there were too many emotions, too much fear, too much despair, too much hopelessness. They turned into anger and he gripped the moss he was lying on, flat and sticky with sap. The pain in his hand and shoulder made him scream as he tried to sit up, to move, to do anything, because he couldn’t take it anymore, just lying here, waiting to die.

The moss was sticking to his back, or his back was sticking to the moss, pulling him down. Where it came off, it might as well have been his bark, separating from his body. He screamed louder, more horrified by the disgusting image this feeling had left in his mind than by the pain. But he didn’t manage to get up, and when he sank back, the moss had shifted, and now it was all wrong, pressing into new tears, while the old ones started to ooze sap again. He tried to move, to find the right position again, but it didn’t work, it just twisted his broken knee.

It was agony, and he screamed, torn apart by despaired sobs. He wanted it all to end. Between screams, he cursed, the Ceodh and the Scourge and his people, because they didn’t come to save him, and himself, because he hadn’t given up when he had had the chance.

Perhaps they’d hear him.

Perhaps they’d come and torment him some more.

Perhaps they’d finally kill him.

But no one came, and his screams didn’t last long. They turned into ragged breaths as the bit of strength his anger had given him left him. His head sank back, rolling to the side, until he jerked it back up when the moss brushed his cheek, too close to his burned eyes. His arms were trembling, and it made the pain in his shoulder flare up again. It didn’t stop, even as he tried to relax. Instead, his whole body started to shake, his head started to spin. He was falling, falling, falling, and there was no end to the fall, and no end to the agony. It was pulling him down and he couldn’t fight it anymore, knowing that this was all that was left for him. Terror and pain and despair, only eased by those short moments of reprieve when his mind slipped away.

He didn’t want to die.

He just wished he didn’t have to wake up again.

  Caldyn woke up to a pained whimper, escaping his lips, reaching his ears before he could even realize it was him who had caused this sound. Fear seized his core, turning into panic as he heard a soft rustle nearby. They couldn’t be back, couldn’t hurt him again, he couldn’t take it anymore. He tried to curl up, his despaired sobs turning into muffled screams as he pushed himself to the side, rolling over his injured shoulder. He hid his face under his left arm, trying to hear more than his own gasps for air. Listening for steps, for whispers, for anything, but there was nothing. They could still be here, standing still, quiet, waiting for him to trust the silence. He could barely breathe, his body tense, waiting for an attack that didn’t come.

There was a low whine, and this time it wasn’t him, couldn’t have been him, he had been too busy just breathing. He froze, listening. There it was again. It didn’t seem to come closer, it didn’t seem threatening, but he didn’t know what it was, and he couldn’t see what it was, and that was enough to almost drive him insane.

“Is... there... -one” He could barely speak, his throat so dry, raw from how much he had screamed. “Please.”

There was no reply. Of course there wasn’t.

If it was them, they’d enjoy watching him suffer like this. If it was another kalani, they were probably close to dying or had gone mad already. As he would soon, too, there was no doubt. But if it wasn’t? Caldyn tried to think, but it was so hard to form a single clear thought.

The noise returned, and it brought an image, so foreign it took Caldyn a moment to make sense of what he was feeling. A small creature, helpless and terrified. An animal, but it seemed to share the empathic bond of his race.

Perhaps knowing that the noise meant no danger would have been enough to calm him down, but it had sparked some curiosity. Despaired curiosity, when all else there was to do was to stare into nothingness and slowly lose his mind.

Propping himself up, just enough so he could drag himself forward with his left arm, he already regretted his decision. It hurt even more than just lying around; the moss scratching against the wounds on his chest, his shoulder, as he tried to keep himself from tipping to the side, his broken legs, being dragged behind him.

But this pain he could control, giving him the illusion that he’d also be able to stop it, if he just held still again. Which also meant that he couldn’t stop, he had to keep doing something, because deep down he knew it wasn't true, it would never stop. Even if this something was nothing more than dragging himself one step along the floor, until his head touched the branches that trapped him.

Caldyn dropped down and reached out, stretching as far as he could, until his fingers brushed the bars of another cage. He felt leaves, just behind the branches; cool leaves, and they were quivering. They started to move when he touched them, and for a moment he was afraid again. What if that thing wasn’t friendly, was perhaps scared of him and would attack?

If his efforts had left him any breath, he could have laughed at this thought. There was nothing he had to lose. His left hand was already almost useless. Not that his right hand was of much help, either, now that he couldn’t move his arm.

His worry faded when something touched his fingers, so lightly it barely hurt. Then something stroked his palm, soft and cool and slightly moist. He realized that this creature must be licking his hand. He just let it happen, waiting anxiously.

After a moment, it whined again, and the tongue vanished, and the leaves returned. Caldyn raised his thumb, weakly stroking whatever part of the creature was closest. He traced its shape as far as he could, finding its ear as it nuzzled its head against his hand. The creature whimpered, and the sound carried this strange meaning with it. Too foreign to anything he had ever sensed in the words of his people, yet somehow familiar in a way he couldn’t put into words.

The creature was friendly, and oh so scared.

“I’m... sorry.”

The words could mean nothing for this creature, and Caldyn was sure there was nothing but pain and despair in the meaning behind them. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to think about what the Ceodh had captured this creature for, what they’d do to it. As he kept stroking its head, it slowly stopped trembling. He could feel the creature’s trust, trust in him, in his tiny, friendly touch.

After a while, Caldyn calmed down, too. He was scared still, but it wasn’t this all-encompassing terror anymore. He could breathe again, even if his breaths were shallow and way too quick. His body was only trembling from exhaustion and pain, not tearing him apart in frightened shivers. He concentrated on the feeling of cool leaves under his fingertips, and it was finally enough to stop thinking, to forget, even if just for one moment.

Perhaps today wouldn’t be the day he lost his mind after all.

When he felt how his consciousness started to drift away again, he pulled his arm back. He didn’t want to risk being found like this, to show them that he cared about this creature. It whined softly and he heard a scratching noise, then a whimper.

“’m sorry.”

He just hoped it wouldn’t injure itself on the thorny branches. But there was nothing he could do about it, nothing he could do at all. He barely managed to bed his head on his arm, trying to keep all pressure of his face, before his mind slipped away, granting him what could only be too little rest.

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