Outlanders Chapter 8: Revolution
"Three years, four months and seventeen days. I'm amazed I've survived this long. During the day, i'm beaten and starved, but at night i'm mostly left alone. I think the night guard may like me, as she's slipped me extra food before, and doesn't seem to mind if I write so long as I keep the scratching quiet. She doesn't even beat me if I whimper like the others do.
Sometimes Solon watches, but most of the time he's not here. I like it better when he is though, because they don't go so far. They know that if I die, he'll do horrible things to them instead.
At this point I don't even remember what I looked like. It's been so long since I saw a mirror, and i'm quite certain these scars and burns have disfigured me beyond belief. It's a miracle that the guard somehow manages to find me worth sympathy, because at another time I would've passed over someone like me in an instant. I suppose I was a rather horrid person in that respect, really.
Sometimes I hear screams from up above. Whatever Solon is doing, he's doing it really badly, or really well depending on your viewpoint. They bring others down every now and again, poor men and women who they beat until they stop crying, then beat some more. They brought a young child down here, just the other day. She was 12 at the most, and crying, saying she only wanted bread. The head guards... they did things not worth talking about. The beating lasted at least five hours, and by the time it was over the girl was good and dead. Solon watched the entire time, a sick grin on his face.
The worst part isn't the screaming though, it's the singing. Every now and again the people seem to gather and sing to Solon, praise him in hopes that he gives them food or drink. From what I can tell, very few are successful. I try not to think of why he's doing this, but in the end I always end up doing so out of some horrid sick boredom. I always arrive at the same conclusion.
It's my fault. All of it. Had I not been found, had I not been allowed to live with the king, had he not used me to pass over Solon... None of it would have happened. I only wish that Rythian was here, he used to have some small amount of control over Solon, sometimes. At the very least he could beat him in a duel of magic, or lead some revolution.
Anything more that what I can do at least."
His writing was interrupted suddenly by the approach of a guard. It was the night guard again, and she slipped his food under with a sigh. He supposed she was pretty enough, tall with slightly blondish hair, and in another life he would've flirted.
That, however, was made impossible by the gag kept on his mouth whenever he wasn't being tortured, to keep him from begging for mercy. The guard continued looking for a second, before going pale. "Ok... I don't know for sure, but can you help us?"
Xephos must've looked confused, because she went on, "I-I'm not sure but... you were a prince once... and people would listen if you talk... and I uh..."
Xephos shook his head and motioned at the chains on his wrists and the gag on his mouth. This made the guard sigh and enter the cell, saying loudly, "Alright then... I suppose you'll be needing a beating after all." He had to give her points for effort, it was rather convincing.
She walked over and whispered, "That girl was my sister. They beat her and showed me the recording. It looked like you were almost concerned, so I need to know right now, can you help us?"
After a second, Xephos gave a nod. She unlocked one of the chains, saying loudly, "alright... over by the wall. I don't wanna hear any whimpering you raggy bastard."
He must've looked confused, because she cut his gag and thrust her gun in his hand, yelling, "Oh god! He's too strong! Someone help!"
Two guards ran in, and Xephos pointed the gun at her face as she shuffled under one of his arms. He tried to avoid looking confused, and tried to avoid choking her, but got the sense he was failing at least one of these tasks.
The guards glared. "Let her go prisoner. Now."
Xephos gave a groan, thinking, 'this is when I die then...' when he noticed one of the new guards winking. He turned his head to the side when suddenly the guard to the left turned his gun and shot the other guard to the ground. "Hello sir, having a good day?"
Xephos simply let his jaw drop, and the other guard yelled out, "SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED! THE PRISONER IS LOOSE! EVERYONE TO SOLON! GUARD THE KING!"
The girl turned to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Good luck prisoner... you've gotta run up those stairs with this gun, jump out a window, and take off running 'till you reach the shipyard. Once you're there, find the ship named after my sister. The 'Anitta.' There'll be the last of the Captains waiting there to help you. Good luck."
He nodded and took off up the stairs. It would seem the palace was on high alert now, guards were everywhere, nothing wasn't blocked. 'Damn it. How am I gonna get ou- THE CATACOMBS!' He thought, and snuck his way as quickly as he could down to where the passage was. Farther and farther he descended in the ancient passageways that haven't been used in a few hundred millenias. No light, other the faint blue glow from his eyes, was down there.
He walked for hours, stumbling around in the darkness and tripping over loose skulls. He didn't really know his way around, he had never been down here before, just read about them in books and was curious enough to try and find out where they were.
Finally he reached a small iron runged ladder that reached high into the air. Upon climbing to the top he was greeted by a blindingly bright light and a smell like burnt hair. He was in the poor district, he could tell just by a quick glance, and with another glance he could tell he was right outside a brothel.
Not that he knew from experience.
He climbed out slowly, constantly checking behind him as he walked towards a richer part of town, getting glimpses of his brother's tyranny at all sides. Here a mother holding her starving child. There a man missing both arms and one leg. Over towards the left, where a small fire had been lit, several veterans stood, trying to warm themselves.
Finally he reached a place where the houses grew larger, yet he wasn't rewarded with the happy sights he was expecting. Instead it was almost worse, with horrid black flags over every house, large graveyards that once hadn't even been thought of, and the stench of death wavering from every corner. It would seem his brother was being worse to the rich than the poor.
A man ran from a house suddenly, armed with a sword, clad in nothing but his pants. Xephos fell him with a hit to the head before he injured himself or someone else and walked forwards into the mans house, and wasn't surprised to find it in horrible condition.
The floor was unkempt and unswept, the fireplace barren, and the walls covered in blood and gunk. This man was clearly making the "best" of a bad situation, resorting to murder to earn his keep.
Xephos walked towards a chest in the corner and opened it with a grunt. "let's see what you have..."
Suddenly a gun cocked from behind him. "Step forward. I want you against the chest, and I want those clothes off."
Xephos chuckled. "I know i'm handsome but REALLY now."
The voice growled. "Be a smart ass. It'll only get you killed faster. Now strip. if you have any weapons on you, any at all, gods have mercy boy because you'll bleed out screaming for mercy."
He chuckled again. "What a good thing that I left my nifty deathray at home today."
"warning two. DROP YOUR CLOTHES."
Xephos sighed and did as he was told, shivering in the cold as he was inspected by whoever was behind him. "No weapons... no technology to spy on us... Hm... you could've left your drawers on boy, but aside from that... turn. WAIT PUT THEM BACK ON FIRST! Good. NOW turn."
He turned, and was greeted by an old woman holding a high power rifle. "Y-you're kinda old to be yelling and pointing guns, aren't you?"
"And you're kinda royal to be standing buck naked in the middle of a killer's house, aren't you?"
"You recognize me?"
She rolled her eyes. "Nooooo, I called you royal because of your scepter. OF COURSE I RECOGNIZE YOU YOU IDIOT. Put on your pants."
After getting dressed, he followed the woman to the kitchen and sat across from her. "John's a lunatic, but he means well. He only wants to protect me."
"John being the man with the sword out there?"
"Good job, you have some level of intelligence. Now can you explain why the hell you're here instead of on the ship?"
"I'm supposed to be on the ship?"
"The entire damn rebellion was kinda hoping you would be yeah!"
"The doors were blocked! I had to get out another way!"
She sighed. "Damn. Well at least we found you instead of him, so there's that. And I mean really, you're out, you're in once piece... could be MUCH worse."
She fixed him a quick meal, giving him updates while she did so. Basically speaking, it was somehow even worse than he'd expected. More people were dead, more were sick, and Solon now had no less than five wives.
"And the people just take it?"
"Those who don't find themselves dead rather quickly."
"Aside from you guys?"
"We just get lucky. Honestly the one's aboard that ship represent a far larger number than-"
There was an earth-shattering, mind-numbing boom, and they both hit the floor. Outside the entire sky turned red, and the streets shook as more, tinier booms took their place.
The old woman was deathly pale. "X-xephos... stay here... I'm going to the docks..."
"You don't think..."
Outside several royal bombers flew overhead, and the old woman teared up and nodded. "I'm guessing our numbers just dropped by quite a bit. I-i'll be back."
Xephos simply sat there in a strangers kitchen, feeling numb. His brother had just ordered the deaths of an entire shipload of people, a shipload of people that were ON said ship to help HIM. He knew that, technically speaking, he shouldn't feel guilty, they had known what could, and probably would, happen to them. Yet he also knew that, literally speaking, he felt more guilty than he ever had before.
After the old woman left, he lay on the stranger's bed and allowed himself a few tears. Then he stood and looked in the mirror.
He let his magic vanish for a bit, let the scars return, and whispered, "And now... as if you hadn't done enough already... you've truly earned hell Solon. And I look just enough like Satan to bring it to you."