Regis was soaked to the bones. The cold rain added insult to injury as he forced himself to climb the stairs leading to where the old prison was said to exist. Hopefully if it existed, it would be in good enough shape that Regis could use it to get out of the storm. The roar of thunder grew louder the closer he got to said prison, making Regis shiver for a very different reason as he finally laid eyes on it.
There were countless stories about this island within the Royal Library of the Citadel. Stories that told of judgement and death, of prisoners being brought here from the time of Solheim to be judged by the Astrals themselves. Few were those who survived the judgement and fewer still were the ones who returned unchanged by the experience. A particularly loud clap of thunder startled Regis, its lightning striking close enough that it blinded him.
Forgetting the possible death and judgement that might be waiting for him within the prison, Regis shoves the door open, slamming it shut behind him and tries to blink away the sparks from his eyes. It takes several long seconds before his sight returns to him.
The prison is much smaller than he expected, he barely has enough space to extend his arm completely before it touches another wall. Perhaps that had been part of the punishment?He quickly realized he had been wrong as his eyes got used to the dim lighting. It was a wall but it did not spam the full length of the prison.
Ragis kept his hand on the firm stone as he slowly followed it until he reached the small opening it left. Beyond it laid another room of sorts, benches carved of the same stone as the walls allowed for a bit more comfort and there was a small sized opening further up that allowed the light from the lightning to reach into the prison.
It wasn't enough light for Regis' tastes, not with the possibility of daemons appearing from the shadows. He called forth fire to his palm and used it to illuminated as much of the room as he could. The benches would not make for comfortable beds but it was better than the freezing floor. Remembering the stories about judgement being passed upon those who came to the prison, Regis cleared his throat and quickly offered a prayer to the astrals.
"Honored Astrals, I thank thee for the safety of these walls. I offer myself for your judgement in hopes of being found worthy of your blessings." He said in as clear a voice as he could manage among the storm. He waited for a few seconds, half hoping for some kind of answer from the guardians of Eos.
Something shifted. Metal brushed against metal. Regis swirled around, fire held high and sword appearing in his other hand. There was nothing in the room that would explain the noises.
Regis frowned, had he imagined it? No. The sounds happened again, softer and barely heard by the prince but he had heard them. "Is someone there? Can you hear me?" He called out, hoping to provoke the noises again and pinpoint its source.
There! It came from beyond the back wall. Regis pushed his ear against the cold stone, shivering as his wet clothes sapped his warmth. The thunder and the thickness of the wall made it hard to hear clearly but Regis was certain something, or perhaps someone, was moving beyond it.
Was it a daemon? An animal perhaps? Or maybe… Regis glanced upwards at the small window like opening. There was really only one way to find out. He changed his grip on his sword and threw it, grinning as it bit into the wall right above the opening.
He warped upwards, allowing the shift to extinguish the flames as he gripped the hilt of his sword and scramble to find the edge of the opening with his feet. He swore as his dripping clothes just made the whole thing that much more difficult. As he finally stabilized himself, Regis peeked past the wall and into… Another room?
The lack of light made it almost impossible to determine what was within it but there was definitely another room. How odd, Regis thought as he checked behind him, there had been no door or any other entry point except for this small opening. He turned his attention back to this new discovery.
There was another window like opening on the opposite wall of the room but once again, the nighttime and storm made for poor lighting. What he did glean was painting a worrying picture. Chains hung from the walls, pulled taunt by something in the center of the room. Something alive, if Regis' instinct held true.
"Hello?" He called out again. The reaction was quite obvious now that he could see at least part of what was happening. There was a small, weak ripple of movement that originated from the unseen section of the room and… Regis tensed, body moving before his mind could catch up fully to what he had heard.
Regis warped into the room, as close as he dared to the sound of pain he had heard. It was still too dark to make anything distinct out but there was a vague humanoid shape, painfully thin. "I have no idea if you can understand me but I'm going to make some light now. You may want to close your eyes." He warns, waiting a few heartbeats before relighting his palm.
Its worse than he expected. Regis barely has time to glimpse a pair of exhausted amber eyes before the man jerks away from the flames violently. Regis swears as he flings his hand as far as he can and tries to calm the poor man down. "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you." He winces as he takes in the sheer amount of cruelty that was being inflicted on the poor soul.
The chains were imbedded into his flesh, obviously had been for a while as it had healed around the entry points. His mouth had been sewn shut with some kind of metallic thread. Regus barely refrained from summoning the few Royal Arms at his disposal in order to free the man immediately. No one deserved such cruel torture. No one,
Instead he remembered the lessons Weskham and Clarus had insisted he take, the ones about dealing with injuries of all kinds in almost any situation. If he remembered correctly, taking out any imbedded object could do more harm than good. Regis started to hissed angrily but stopped as the man flinched at the sound. Okay, there would be time to be angry later, right now his priority had to be helping this poor man.
Regis walked around the man, carefully planning how to get him free without causing any more pain, or the least amount possible under the circumstance. The best thing to do seemed to cut the chains as close to the poor man's body by heating one of his blades until it would pass through the metal like butter.
When Regis glanced back at the man's face, he was surprised to met his eyes. Exhausted as he seemed, the man appeared to be waiting for Regis to speak. "Can you understand what I'm saying?" Regis asked. The man frowned, obviously hearing what Regis was saying but did not understand.
Regis sighed. He took a step back, summoned his best fire-aligned sword and light it in one smooth movement. The man's eyes widen, first with overwhelming fear then with a glimmer of understanding. Regis met the man's gaze with what he hoped was a comforting confidence as he slowly approached.
He did not know what kind of horrors the man had suffered through but fire seemed to be a source of anxiety and fear. Regis had planned on cutting the chains closed to the man's body but that seemed like a bad idea now.
Confronted with the fear of a doubtlessly traumatized man, Regis did the only thing he could. He moved slowly, telegraphing his every action as he used one hand to grasp the chains and the other to cut through them. He talked, giving the man something to concentrate on during the whole thing.
The end result left more chain to drag on each injury than he'd like but, as Regis helped the poor man to his knees, at least the poor man was no longer hanging from his wrists. The man shivered violently even as he gave Regis a grateful nod, obviously thankful for the help, meager as it was. A shaking hand, thin and barely more than bones took to tracing letters into the dirt and dust in crusted floor. Regis leaned closer, curious to see what this poor man might be trying to communicate.
At first he couldn't understand what was being written, the letters making no sense to him. Then a word sprang out from the shaky message and Regis bit down a hiss as he suddenly understood why he'd had so much trouble. The man was using Old Lucian! Was he a scholar to know such an old language? But then why was he writing in it?
As Regis went over the scrawled message as second time, reading it as it was intended; blood drained from his already cold body. He turned, shocked by what had been communicated, to the emaciated man. "You're a Lucis Caelum?"
As if to confirm the truth, a crimson blade burst into reality beside the former prisoner. The man grabbed it, and in a rather nonchalant and yet shaky movement, sliced open the thread holding his mouth shut. Regis winced at the harsh and uncomfortable looking action.
The man opened his mouth, pearls of black liquid seeping from the cracked corners of his lips. The first sounds that came out sounded so painful that Regis automatically grabbed his water bottle and offered it to him. The man looked confused at the colourful plastic container which prompted Regis to show him how to open and drink from it. The man's second attempt to speak went much better.
"Ego autem Caelum et Lucii. Ardyn nomen, quod tibi amicum?" The former prisoner said, his voice hoarse from disuse. The man gave Regis a small, half seated bow, or tried to as the movement seemed to have caused him to reach the limits of his body. Regis was barely able to catch the man before he completely collapsed. The man was unconscious, shivering violently and there was a dark liquid dripping from his nose and eyes.
Regis swore, extinguishing the fire he'd kept going for lighting, and made a decision Weskham was going to get mad at him for. He destroyed the wall between both room. A blast of wind cleared the rumble away, back into the prison, and left Regis enough room to bring out the camping equipment he needed.
The sleeping bag were first, upon which Regis laid out the man carefully. He quickly brought out and applied an elixir and an antidote as precautions. The dark liquid seemed to stop flowing but the man remained unconscious. Regis used the opportunity to remove the rest of the chains still hanging from the anchors before tucking the man firmly within another sleeping bag.
As he set up the tent, Regis thought back to the words pronounced by the man. His Old Lucian wasn't the best but he thought it meant something along the lines of confirmation of lineage and a declaration of his own name. Ardyn. Regis thought the man might have been inquiring about something but he wasn't sure.
Ardyn. Ardyn Lucis Caelum, a possible relative that had been imprisoned who knows when in such a cruel manner. Regis shook his head sadly, he wasn't sure what to think about the whole thing. Hopefully the storm would pass by morning and Regis would be able to reach his companions for help and advice.
For now, he would do his best to grant this poor man a peaceful night's rest. Ardyn deserved that much, no matter what reason he might have for being in such a forsaken place.
A/N: What Ardyn says :I am of Caelum and Lucii. My name is Ardyn, what is yours friend?