The Edge

VIKSTEN, KINGDOM OF DRAVANIA

The good news was Thordan did not have to worry about dying in the box. Isangrim had been placed in another one, just to relieve some of his pressure.

The bad news was that Thordan was in unknown territory, locked up in a barrel (which was much, much smaller than the chest he was locked in) with only his left footpaw sticking out, and could only listen to what was happening to the outside world.

He was still bound, gagged and naked to the fur, and no chamber pot was offered to him. As a consequence too obvious, he was stinking in this enclosed space, and Thordan knew not which was worse, the former or the latter.

The container was only opened for Captain Bodvar or Birger to untie his muzzle and pour water in - food was a thing of the past, and he would have done anything for it. The otterlord's grandfather had taught him that a beast could survive without food for three whole weeks, but Thordan just knew that he wouldn't live to see a second week - not literally nor figuratively.

At least they have stopped moving the barrel. Bodvar told him that nobeast but the four who transported him knew he was here, though the same could not be said for Isangrim. The otter captain also asked too many questions, even non-rhetorical ones. But then, he forgot that Thordan was gagged every twenty minutes, so there's that.

Pawsteps. Thordan heard pawsteps. Pawsteps usually meant that somebeast was approaching his barrel. That same somebeast who would proceed to do unspeakable things to him - his last drink (which, for some reason, was much, much larger than the ones preceding it) had just been a mere two hours ago.

He had not given up hope of escape yet - Swalestroms were not supposed to be afraid. Though there were many, many things that made his blood turn as cold as a river in winter, including approaching pawsteps, and he was totally terrified, yet decided to act brave anyways.

But those same pawsteps stopped, and Thordan could smell nothing other than the usual stench of his excretions - that, he had got used to, at least. And as the brave face melted, he realised that scared him all the more.

The barrel was opened, and Thordan squinted from the sudden light. Before he could get used to the radiance, he was dumped into another barrel, this one filled with nothing but water. More screaming and thrashing quickly followed, and when Thordan was finally pulled out from the cold water, he was but a shivering, whimpering mess.

A towel was draped around him, and a glance indicated that Bodvar's eyes were strangely empty, devoid of malice or regret. What had Dagbert done to them? And what will he do to me?

When more ropes were tied around him, Thordan did not resist. His time in the barrel was over, but he knew he was broken.

For the first time in two whole weeks, Thordan had an adequate grasp of his surroundings. He was in another one of those Sword-forts, though one within Dravain territory. Suits of armour seemed to be staring straight at the towel-clad Thordan, and the thought of them seeing him made his ears droop. He had suffered enough humiliation.

Is that what Dagbert meant when he talked about seeing my father for the last time? Having to endure being tortured to death while he is worried sick about me?

His still shivering body was deposited in a chair, his bonds severed and his gag finally removed as he came face to face with his chief tormentor. Dagbert did not look as smug as he was expected to, having caused so much pain.

"Forgive me, but I did what I had to do." Thordan's old chess piece, the otterking, began to glow in Dagbert's paws.

Thordan was too exhausted and broken to say anything.

"Seers are normally resistant to Pressuring," Dagbert rambled on, "so your mind had to be crushed before Emmeroloth poisons it."

For a moment, Thordan wanted to resist as Dagbert's Conjured spell entered his mind, but he just couldn't. He didn't have the energy or the drive. He never had them.

And so, he just sat as he felt a semblance of obedience, a sense of longing for Floret, the need for companionship among the scholar mole and his warrior brother…

All of a sudden, a spear of ice tore through the door, rousing Thordan from his clouded mind. Dagbert dodged it, of course, and countered with a blow just as hard - a torrent of water.

When the blast cleared, Thordan was still in his chair, shocked, Dagbert was holding a book which he pulled out from nowhere, and Isangrim was choking and gasping from all the water.

"You never learn, do you not?" Ropes of Wind bound the incapacitated fox to the ground, his muzzle bound like the last time all three were together, with Dagbert still as Phronesis.

There was nothing Thordan could do. Or so Dagbert thought.

He charged at the mole, barreling into him, and wrenched the wooden otter carving from his grasp as they tumbled onto the ground.

Then the both of them surrendered.

A hammer of air was Conjured out of Thordan's paw, but was just stopped from smashing the mole's head in by a shield, also seemingly of solidified air. No sound was emitted from the impact at all, as both combatants prepared their next moves, which clashed against each other before the pair knew what they were, staggering back as if cut with an actual iron knife.

But it soon became clear that they, Recorder Dagbert of Duncton and King Thordan of Dravania, were planning to do to each other. They were trying to sever the other from embracing Seercraft, but ran into each other's flows of aether!

If anybeast not a Conjurer nor a Thaumaturge walked into the room the two were in, say Bodvar Waycaster, they would have witnessed perhaps the staring contest with the highest of stakes to ever occur. None would have guessed that it was a duel, perhaps to the death. Warriors sang with swords and diplomats danced with words, but this was a duel as intense, perhaps more intense, than the others.

"All your planning shall come to an end!" Dagbert smiled, earning a puzzled look from Thordan. "Time has been wasted on the both of you. Too much time" But it has become apparent that Dagbert was taking not to Thordan, but the immobilised fox. "I mean for you to pay, me Emmeroloth. Isangrim, Pallpelt, Darkening Cloud, whatever!" The mole's voice started to deepen as Thordan pushed harder, forcing him to do the same. 'You have led to ruin enough!"

"Ruin?" This taxed voice belonged to Thordan as he stepped towards the downed fox. "I have no idea what you mean."

Dagbert growled as Thordan got one small step closer to clamping his trap over Dagbert, before the mole halted his advance."Your foxy little friend had destroyed all too many lives! Long ago, there was one world, and its inhabitants wielded both branches of magic freely. However, the world suffered a world was split into seven, six of them are mere Shards of the original world. A sole ratmaid was cast off into the Rift between the worlds from the Windshard, and was saved by an otterking who had the gift of a seer. Though she was a vermin and he woodlander, she taught him how Thaumaturgy is used. However, being a woodlander, he was forced to use Conjuration like Thaumaturgy, yielding results that are far and few between. It was only when the ratmaid passed on and the king took on a vulpine apprentice shall more be discovered, while the moles of Duncton figured out as well. Then the two proceeded to rent these worlds apart one by one!"

The mole's voice continued to sink deeper and deeper as he blathered on and on, but Thordan was no longer listening, continuing to walk step by step towards Isangrim despite the strain. Are you truly that confident that you would win, Recorder? Why do you talk? Are you looking for an opening to throw all your strength at me?

Both sides were starting to sweat. There was quite a lot on Thordan and on Dagbert's face as well, slowly dripping from forehead and muzzle to the ground.

That's it! Thordan almost jumped up with the revelation. It was not anger deepening Dagbert's voice! It was strain! It was tiredness! Dagbert did not throw his full might into his cage because he simply could not. He was already using his full strength! He was wordy because he needed a distraction, because they were at a stalemate!

They were equal in power!

Thordan picked up Isangrim's glass wolf. "Oh yes, the vermin and woodlanders both have their Augmenters and Amplifiers, but-" Dagbert could speak nary a word more as the otter hurled the wolf at him. The figure hit Dagbert between the eyes before the mole managed to catch it, albeit awkwardly, in his right paw, but the damage was done, and the force of Thordan's clamp slammed right into the momentarily distrait Recorder.

Dagbert dropped to the floor like a heavy pail of water, and Thordan's legs were too weary and trembling for him to not follow suit. But he still had the presence of mind to mimic Dagbert's earlier moves, and soon Dagbert was bound and muzzled - exactly like Thordan in Kaldos.

He had done it. He had faced a fully-trained seer and defeated him.

On Thordan's left, Isangrim's bonds unraveled as Thordan willed them to, and the fox panted and sputtered, coughing out more droplets of water. Then the duo turned towards Dagbert.

"What are we supposed to do to him now?" Isangrim gave the mole a leering smile, causing him to mumble something through his gagged muzzle.

"I'll have a closer hearing." Before the fox could protest, his Amplifier was blown back to him by Thordan's wind as the Recorder's mouth was unbound.

The mole took a deep breath. "We can still come to some arrangement, if I am freed again. There is much that I would like to teach you."

"I am not sure that I can trust you." Thordan was blunt and terse in his wording.

"Well, all seers cannot lie." The mole prisoner continued.

Thordan turned to the fox. He seemed to be in even worse shape than Thordan was, and looked ready to faint at every moment, yet something forced him to stand. Hatred, perhaps. "Is this correct, Isangrim?"

"Being forced to tell the truth does not imply that he is trustworthy."

"Looks like you would have to follow us back home, then. Isangrim, can you prepare one of those Gateways or something?"

A Pathway did appear, but from the look on Isangrim's face, it was not one of his making. Indeed, another mole ran through the portal, and he held twin swords in his paw.

Finnbarr and Fatch.

The sight of the mole was enough to make Thordan drop his concentration - and run. But he wasn't fast enough - a sphere of gravity pressed him down onto the floor.

And all faded into black.

Dagbert felt the bonds on his body fade, and those on his mind as well - Conjuration had returned to him. His captors were both unconscious, weakened by days of torment, humiliation and starvation.

"I'm glad you're safe." Arbert smiled as he embraced his brother for the first time in weeks, with Ralos and Slyte emerging out of the Pathway as well. "Nothing much had happened, I take it?"

The Recorder pointed at the downed otter. "Well, Thordan here taught me much. And Emmeroloth kindly informed me about all their plans and secrets. But these would have to-"

The pine marten butted in. "I feel it again. Thaumaturgy is being gripped!"

Dagbert stole a glance at Isangrim. But he is still out, so the Thaumaturgy comes from. Oh no!

The four beasts desperately rolled to one side when a bar of crimson flames, as tall as a full-grown shrew, emerged from the wall. Where it struck, everything turned to ash, and Dagbert was lucky to not stand in its way.

The scholar had ample time to form a spherical shield of Wind as Lorelei emerged from the wreckage, eyes red with rage, and the figure of another fox could barely be seen. Shadowbringers in paws, the otterqueen leapt at the shield, and Dagbert expected something being hurled at the dome with Conjuration.

But the impact was of another sort. Forgoing all else, the otter simply tried to punch through the spherule of solidified air, and Dagbert shuddered. Arbert struggled to create a Pathway at the back, and both Ralos and Slyte were ready to defend the shielded moles.

The air's cracks widened, and the mole was clearly straining to keep everything held together. Fates afire, Lorelei is a tough one! We need something new…

The solution was simpler than Dagbert had thought, but it still hit him later than when he had expected. With an audible grunt, Dagbert broke the shield himself - then sent the broken, jagged pieces of air towards the unbalanced otterqueen.

Lorelei blocked the little shards of glasslike air, and tried to pounce at the quartet again, but they were gone. They were headed to the Castle of Skulls, and there they would await the Ward.

Thordan woke up after what had seemed like centuries. His eyesight wandered across the room until they collided with a grey fox.

"Good day. I'm Hersent. Isangrim's apprentice. Nice to meet you." The vixen reached out her paw, which was taken.

"Thordan." No doubt too exhausted to list out his titles, the otterlord was terse. Terse enough not to ask any questions to his seeming rescuer, in fact, but not terse enough to act wholly trusting.

"Relax, Thordan." The otter turned towards where Isangrim was, and he was not in a good state - even worse than Thordan's, in fact. "You can trust her. She's with me."

"Whatever," Thordan rolled his eyes and turned his head to his mother. She calmly made her way to her son - and less than calmly slapped him so hard that his face jerked. "You almost got the both of you killed because you put your trust in the wrong beasts again! How many times have I told you not to get yourself in danger, boy?"

"All too little, mother." Thordan almost spat the last word. "How many things have you kept from me? How many times do I need to suffer because I don't know things that you and Dagbert do?" He tossed the statue onto the ground, and it rebounded before skidding to a halt. "I want nothing to do with seers anymore. Nothing at all!"

Then he ran. Ignoring Isangrim's calls for him to return, he sprinted out of the door and into the hallway, as fast as his food-deprived body would allow. Statues and suits or armour were ignored as he tried to get away from the fort, and all those who sought to control and manipulate him, whether because he was a Swalestrom, or because he was a seer.

Then he barreled into an otter.

Before Bodvar Waycaster could respond or even draw his weapon, Thordan quickly changed directions and bolted down another hallway. Turning back to gauge the two beasts' distance, he saw nobeast chasing him, and sighed with relief as he continued to dash.

His relief would soon be proved to be short-lived, as he tumbled down a flight of stairs, landing with an audible 'crack'.

"You shouldn't have treated the boy so harshly, Lorelei." Isangrim mused. "I doubt he will obey you ever again."

"I know Thordan better than anybeast else, and-" Lorelei was cut off by a tap on the shoulder, given to her from the black furred fox. She turned her head, but her face never stood a chance against the black paw which connected with her jaw. She fell onto the floor as easily as a stone.

Isangrim nursed his own snout, which was also in pain. The two had Bonded back before Thordan's birth, and he now feels everything Lorelei did pain included. "If you have the nerve to physically hurt your own flesh and blood after he had already suffered horrendous torture, then you don't really have a right to raise him, do you?"

Lorelei said nothing, as she rubbed her jaw, definitely grateful that all her teeth were there.

"Your father tasked me to protect him, but never, and I mean never had I imagined that I have to protect him from you!" Isangrim took a deep breath, but failed to calm down. "I see, at long last, why nobeast seems to like you, despite everyone respecting you! And I see that -"

Hersent coughed quite loudly, and all other heads in the room turned to her.

"Er - I tracked Arbert's aetherial signature to the Earthshard, and it's in their version of the Lands of Ice and Snow. Judging by the hastiness of their retreat, it is in our interest to pursue."

"Could be a trap." The other fox gave a bitter smile, still trying to remove his jaw from his imaginary pain.

"Well, It's just that of a great opportunity." Lorelei proved to be more enthusiastic. "Besides, we now know where they are hiding - when they're not in Duncton, of course."

"Alright. We'll do it. For Thordan." Isangrim raised his glass wolf up, and punched through the Rift separating the worlds.

And the three stepped through.

A/N: New favourite chapter! And Thordan actually does something! Yay!

Responses now!

Sebias 28: Sigrun is supposed to be Thordan's sister, after all. You won't be happy when your siblings are kidnapped... Oh, and she would have to take control sooner or later. She's the only Swalestrom left in Kaldos. Morag's a girl, by the way. And Godred being thrown into the sea was quite satisfying. Egil and Alfyn are a pair of actual friends in a world of intrigue - Thordan's lucky to have them. I mean, he's kinda short of luck now, but you get the idea.

Sebias 29: Yeah... why would I kill Isangrim here and now while there are so many other places to do so? Locked in a box with a stinky fox? Yeah, horrible fate. At least he's not in the box anymore. And Isangrim being broken? Well... the higher you fly, the harder you fall.

This was one of the hardest chapters I have ever written, due to the torture, the fighting and all that. But I liked the result, and I am very glad that the effort put into this was not wasted at all.

Chapter 32 (Meteor) shall be unleashed on 30/31 October!