Prologue
The air was wet in the cool hallway. Torches were lit, casting deep shadows on the wooden doors that lined the passage. No natural light could be seen, for there were no windows. Heavy wooden doors were spaced every five feet on each wall, along the entire length of the corridor. Booted footsteps echoed on the stone floor.
Fourth door on the right, the shadowed figure mentally reminded himself. A shiver ran through his body. His reaction was normal considering his errand. The people kept in this ward were disturbing. He hated coming down here. The Pit… the other soldiers called it. His comrades fought to evade this duty. Most of the time, it was a punishment.
Obligation pushed instincts aside to complete his task, commitment to his king. He was ordered to retrieve a ward from The Pit. He stepped up to the specified door and took a deep breath. The handle turned easily. They were never actually locked as there was no doorknob on the inside. Only one from the hall could open it. No one dared try unless ordered to. His sword already unsheathed and ready, he pushed.
The heavy door creaked loudly in the silent corridor. The five by five room was dimly lit with a single candle encased by glass. It would never burn down, magic, he realized. A chamber pot and basin filled with fresh water sat on one side of the room. A single cot was fixed to the floor along the right wall.
His quarry lounged on the makeshift bed watching him lazily. Bright green eyes peered curiously through midnight black bangs. The lithe body was covered only in short, worn soft pants, leaving the pale chest exposed. The figure moved slowly as he sat up. He really was a beautiful specimen. The soldier gulped. An elegant hand reached up to push a stray lock of messy hair behind his ear. A pink tongue darted between plush lips. The soldier inhaled sharply and his eyes slid closed only for a moment. It was long enough.
He was flat on his back the next second, with the wind knocked out of him. The soldier grabbed a bare ankle as it passed, and the would-be escapee landed with a thump. The guards must have heard the scuffle. Two men entered a second later with their batons drawn.
"Don't!" the soldier yelled, momentarily halting their progress. "He must remain unharmed. Subdue him, you imbeciles!"
Regardless of the boy's unnatural strength, they managed to restrain him, one guard actually sitting on him. The boy's beauty turned feral as he bucked uncontrollably, attempting to dislodge his attackers. The soldier pulled a syringe from his pocket and fumbled to stick the wriggling body. Finally, he managed and the squirming stopped. Brilliant green orbs closed slowly.
The guards sighed audibly. The soldier heaved himself up off the floor with a grunt. All three men looked down at the limp body. His dark hair was even more disheveled and the bangs had parted revealing his forehead. A thin lightning bolt shaped scar was visible. The soldier knew it was the only mark on the agile body. It was a mark of ownership. The entire reason he was down here in the first place.
The soldier picked the boy up and gently cradled the body to his chest. Turning, he walked out, hoping he would never have to return.