DH AN: I'm back with another chapter of Veracity. The story takes a slightly darker turn here, but enjoy Chapter Seven: Dry Ice.
Chapter Seven: Dry Ice
I walked out of the office, unsure of my decided tentative match with Noinreil, as neither I nor my father was ready to start conditioning. There was one other who could help me, but I hadn't seen Odion in a few days. I wish he was home; he calms my father better than I can. I smiled slightly. Some would say that he is like a second father; I feel the need to disprove that notion…he is my second father.
I dug my hands further into my pockets, not realizing that I was going deeper into the lower corridors than I ever intended or wanted to. I was so buried in my thoughts that I failed to notice I was being followed by the one who frightened me more than my father ever could.
I kept walking until I tired from the combination of cold and fatigue. Leaning against a wall seemed like such a good inviting idea… I only would rest for a second.
But that second changed everything.
My hands were pinned behind my back in half a second, and tied together with very strong twine. I mentally berated myself at the fact that the telepathic bond with my father wasn't as strong as it could be. It was only good for a yard's distance at most. By reading the diary that my mother had left in care of my father, I knew that the bonds of telepathy could carry across oceans. I don't think he had ever thought of it as an asset, but it would be; should he decide to ever let me travel away from his watchful eye.
My thoughts were halted as a tan hand clasped itself firmly, in domination, over my mouth. It wasn't a suggestion that I keep quiet, but an order. My eyes darted from side to side to attempt an escape from my captor's strong grip. If I were to escape, it would no doubt be so fear-driven that I wouldn't get far. I was gripped harder than necessary on that all too familiar pressure point on my shoulder, and everything went black.
When my eyes fluttered open, they were immediately shutting soon after. It was as if one of my non-foreshadowing (at least, that is what I thought at the time) dreams had come to pass. This one…was a nightmare. The cold steel-gray eyes of Noinreil Nashin had a glare of both disdain and overconfidence, but no remorse, within them. He sauntered toward me, a small disk of metal in his hand. I was certain he was very tempted to flick the projectile at my unprotected face. But instead, he calmly placed it in his pocket. He grinned that dark, feral grin; the one that was in the memory that was frantically pulsing in the back of my head, in time with the fast fearful thumping that was my heartbeat.
His wild smirk was quickly replaced by a look of fraudulent sympathy. "Oh how sad, my dear Arlomhe, that no one is going to save you now. Not Yagasawi, not the master, not even your family; you are most likely hoping for your father to rescue you." I minutely tensed at how very close he was to discovering the deception that was implemented two years earlier. He continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper and reaching my ears. "No one will be able to save you from my…proposal." Noinreil hesitated before saying the last word, driving my already fear-driven heart rate slightly higher.
"What proposal?" I breathed; half eager to rip what was left of his dueling dignity to irrecoverable shreds, but more fearful of facing him again and for my own safety.
"I thought you would never ask." Noinreil snickered darkly, eyes laughing mirthlessly at my position. I shuddered as he continued. "We will have a duel, and if you win, you go free, without question."
I waited mutely for his prize in the proposed match, should he win.
It came, "If I win…I won't give thought to releasing you, as that willfulness of yours is quite a problem, until I have robbed you of it completely."
I blanched, feeling the pallor come to my face swiftly. I did not want to find out how he intended to do that. Even though I did not think myself willful, it did not sit well with me.
His voice shattered the semi-calm reflection that was the mirror of my thoughts. "If you have no further questions, our duel will commence promptly."
"I refuse!… I refuse…" I yelled the first one, but the second one was quieter.
"Then, I have something to show you" He stepped aside to reveal a block of ice with steam wafting off of it in very visible amounts, or at least I thought it was steam.
"Dry ice." Noinreil murmured, removing the metal disk from his pocket once more, "It is so cold that it removes any and all heat energy from most objects, even metal."
Without any further explanation, he thrust the disk into the chunk of ice. I watched as the coin vibrated, paling when it ceased, as I saw that it was covered in a thin layer of ice. Movement jerked my attention away from the dry ice, my eyes catching Noinreil producing a thick gray rope from a dark corner of the room.
"Should you refuse to duel, this rope will be to you what dry ice was to that disk." He stated what I already knew. "You will be robbed of your will power and your energy, nothing but a shell of your former self." He was obviously unimpressed at my straight face. "Do you still refuse?" He asked tersely.
"Yes." My answer was softly resolute.
"Your choice, my dear Arlomhe." I wanted so badly to break his jaw for addressing me as 'my dear', but since I was quite literally disarmed, I settled for a heated glare. It did little except bring the hated feral smirk back to his face.
As he bound me with the energy-sapping rope, I hoped that something, someone… would find me. As I closed my eyes at the dull pain, I saw only a pair of grey-green eyes.
DH: I have wanted to use the idea of some kind of rope being a slight weakness for Mhera. I've mentally toyed with a lot of ideas, the most interesting being the complete cancellation of her powers, and this one. The stuff is no ordinary rope either; it has requirements to be undone. Those will be revealed in the later chapters. This chapter is to set up for my ending of this story. That last line references an occurance in my One Shot, Phantoms at Midnight.