Shattered Bonds

Arram could not believe that Ozorne was doing this to him. He could not believe that Ozorne was forcing him to make such a horrible choice.

He either had to do what Ozorne told him to do or else… The possible consequences for disobeying Ozorne sent chills down his spine. Whatever the consequence would be, it would be terrible, as it always was with Ozorne.

But... Ozorne was his friend. What he commanded for Arram to do was against everything that he ever stood for, and Ozorne knew that.

Ozorne was using him. It was a truth that he knew but did not want to face, but knew deep in his heart. Ozorne was using him and had been using him. It was only now that he was emperor that it was beginning to surface.

And he would keep using Arram unless Arram did something about it.

But what? He felt helpless; he felt that there was nothing he could do. He knew that Ozorne was going to make him do it, somehow, some way. He felt as if morality and fear were playing tug-of-war on his soul.

He didn't have much time to act. He was going to have to perform the incantation soon, or he was going to have to stop it. This was a black-and-white, clear-cut answer to a complicated problem.

Fear, horror and bitter anger shot through his soul creating a hurricane of emotions inside of him. Never had he felt such feelings all at once and in such a large dose. He could not function anymore, because it was always in the back of his mind.

He could not do this. He knew that he could not do this and he was going to have to find a way out of this. He was going to have to find a way to leave Carthak, even doing so would inevitably put his life in great peril.

He went to Professor Reed, hoping that the teacher who he could relate to so well with would understand. He would have to understand. And he would have to help Arram escape. Arram knew it was risky but he didn't know what else to do. He considered just forgetting about it, sucking it up and do what Ozorne commanded of him. Yet he knew that he could not do that. His decision was all ready made. He was not going to do this though, no matter what the cost for that decision was. Ozorne would have to find another mage and what that mage did was going to be on their conscience not Arram's.

He knocked on the door of his favorite professor, silently praying to whatever god he could think of.

Professor Lindhall Reed opened the door. His face brightened instantly, an automatic reaction at the sight of his favorite student; Arram did his best to return the smile. ''Arram, come in,'' he said. ''It's always a pleasure to see you.''

As soon as Arram came in though, his teacher could tell that something was wrong. Arram was not his lively and talkative self; he looked distant and sad.

''What's wrong?'' he asked.

And then Arram explained everything.

''I can't do this,'' Arram said.

''I know,'' he said. ''I wouldn't be able to, either.''

''Will you help me escape?'' Arram asked, his eyes pleading.

''You know that that would be treason, Arram,'' Lindhall said. ''It would put both of our llives in great danger.''

''I know.''

''But yes, I will. Ozorne is getting out of control, I can tell it already.''

Arram's eyes shone with relief, although the fear in it remained.

''Just promise me that when you are able to, you will get me out of here too.''

He nodded. ''I need to get out of here soon.''

Arram went to confer with Ozorne hours before he was supposed to escape. They discussed the things that he was supposed to do, the steps he would have to take, the horrors that he was supposed to inflict.

He nodded and acted like he was genuinely into what he was about to do. He hid his revulsion.

As Arram talked, he noticed haughtiness in his former friend's eyes. The indifference, the smugness, the sadistic joy of what he was about to do. Arram's eyes were beginning to open and he wished that he could have kept them shut. From he was seeing, what he had seen, Ozorne's nature was absolutely terrifying, along with appalling.

He hated Ozorne. He felt it then, the tide of resentment and revulsion that washed over him.
He left under the cloak of midnight. He had already created a new name for himself- Numair Salmalin. It sounded more befitting of a mage anyway; he liked the name better with its grandiose and eloquence.

It was not an easy thing to ride away from, even considering the circumstances, but he did it. He rode away from his old life and into the bitter new.

He felt something irrevocably shatter inside of him as he rode away from everything he ever knew and into the darkness that was to come. Looking back, he couldn't tell whether it was his last shard of innocence or his last tie with Ozorne.

But he knew that, along with many other things, he would never have that part of him back.