NORMAL POV
A lone man slowly walked the length of the dimly lit hallway, his features hidden by the darkness of the room. Passing several doors, all worn and peeling, he came to a stop at the last door at the end of the hall, where a guard happened to be standing watch.
"Has he awoken?" he asked.
"Not yet" grunted the guard.
Smiling, the unknown man replied "And he'd wish he hadn't by the time I'm through with him"
The guard chuckled deeply as he opened the door for the man, his eyes shining with mirth at the image the unknown man had placed in his head. Nodding to the guard, the man walked into the dimly lit room, closing the door behind him as went.
The room that he found himself in was quite small, the walls were made of thick, rough, sandstone and the floor was covered with a thick layer of dried grass. There were no windows to be seen, and the only light came from two flaming torches located on either side of the room. Turning to the center of the room, the unnamed man's eyes glinted with perverse pleasure, as well as mild curiosity, as he looked upon the unconscious form of his prisoner.
Standing in the middle of the dimly lit room, held upright by an assortment of heavy iron chains, was the unconscious and naked form of Baelor Stark. Blue and purple bruises covered the entire right side of his ribcage, the wound on his left arm was weeping a dark yellowy puss-like substance, and a dark trail of blood was slowly running down his arm, past his fingers and into a dark pool that had formed at his feet. Little drops of blood covered his face, and the cut on his cheek was already beginning to get infected.
When his Captain had told them that they had spotted an unguarded merchant ship that was ripe for the taking, he and the rest of the crew thought it would be like any other raid, they would board the enemy ship, take anything and everything of value, maybe take a couple deckhands as slaves and be on their merry way, yet this couldn't have been any further from the truth. What they thought was going to be an easy victory, had turned into a full-blown bloodbath with a great many losses on either side.
One of those losses had been that of his leader, Captain Rolf Seabane. He had witnessed the death of his Captain at the hands of the man before him, seeing as how the Captain was the best warrior amongst them, it was quite hard to grasp the fact that a pesky little maggot like his prisoner could get the better of someone so skilled in battle as his Captain.
He didn't know how to feel about the death of his Captain. On one hand he had sailed under his captain for nigh on fifteen years and relationship as long as there's wasn't something that just faded overnight, but on the other hand the death of his Captain had paved the way for him to become the new Captain of The Viper, something he had wanted for the longest of times.
What he saw next onboard the merchant ship, however, chilled him to his very core. He was in the middle of a battle with a member of the enemy when from out of the corner of his eye he spotted the same person who had killed the Captain, his arms raised on either side of him and a look of deep concentration etched upon his scrawny face.
He didn't know what the foolish man was trying to accomplish, but it seemed like the perfect opportunity to enact his revenge for the death of his Captain. His mighty battle axe made quick work of his oncoming enemies as he began to make his way towards his target. Having not seen his target up close before, he was quite surprised to learn that the person he was about to attack, the very person who had taken down the best warrior that he knew, was nothing more than a mere boy, a boy who looked as if he hadn't even seen fifteen name days.
Shaking his head of his wandering thoughts, he continued to make his way forward, pushing past friend and foe alike in his haste to take down his enemy. He was but 10 feet away from his target, his blade poised high above his head in a position to strike, when from out of nowhere the already strong winds began to pick up, the sails began to flap about wildly and the ship began to rock uncontrollably from side to side. Such was the force of the wind that he struggled to move forward, each step he took taking twice the amount of effort as the last. Just as he was about to finally reach his target, the weather became so violent and out of control that he was violently thrown backward, his body (and that of everyone else on-board) flying through the air and his head hitting the mast of the ship with a loud thud. Such was the force of the blow that he slowly succumbed to unconsciousness, but not before his eyes caught sight of something that denied belief.
The boy who he was just about to attack had lowered his arms, and as he did so the wind began to die down and everything returned to normal. Now he was quite aware that he wasn't the brightest of people, but that didn't mean he was an idiot either. He knew that whatever it was that had just happened hadn't been caused by natural means, and he would bet all the gold that he possessed that the boy had something to do with it. Whatever it was, he would get to the middle of it.
The man was brought out of his thoughts by the soft rattling of metal. Turning to the left he saw that his prisoner was slowly beginning to stir.
'Finally' thought the man. 'Time to get some answers'
BAELORS POV
Baelor cried out in agony as the whip once more whistled through the air before making contact with the bare skin of his back, which if he had to guess, was now a mangled mess of skin and blood.
Baelor clenched his fists tightly as another mighty blow landed against his back, his whole frame shaking from side to side as his body convulsed uncontrollably. Again and again, he was struck by the whistling whip of his captor. Each strike felt more painful than the last. At first, he had counted each blow as it landed, as a way to take his mind off of the searing pain that covered his entire body. He had lost count at forty-four.
He didn't know how it had come to this. One moment he was using his magic to knock out the pirates, and the next he was waking up in this dimly lit room, his whole body covered in chains and a lone man standing before him. Seeing as how he couldn't remember anything before knocking the pirates unconscious, he assumed that he had knocked himself out for overdoing it with his magic. Something that had happened on multiple occasions in the past.
When he had come to, the first thing he noticed was that he covered in chains from head to foot, and the second thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone. He soon found out that the man's name was Myke Gardner, and that he was the new captain of the pirates who had attacked The Challenger.
Myke had told him that he knew that he was the one responsible for the abnormal weather, and for him and his crew being knocked unconscious. He had then asked him who and what he was, both questions he had refused to answer. It was his refusal that had landed him in his current predicament of being chained up and whipped by his enemies.
Finally, the whipping fell silent, and Baelor was finally able to untense his clenching muscles, but as he did so his body fell forward as he realized how utterly exhausted he really was. The chains around him strained tightly against his arms and legs and prevented him from falling flat on his face.
"Ready to answer the questions, boy?" grunted Myke as he stepped in front of Baelor.
The pirate captain towered above him by a good a head and a half, so with some difficulty he raised his head and looked up into the face of his enemy. Gardner was tall and built like an ox. He had a large black beard and mane of scruffy black hair and chilling black eyes.
"Never. You'll never break me" spat Baelor with as much hate as he could muster given his current state.
Myke laughed loudly "You've got guts boy, I'll give you that. I've seen men thrice yor age break twice as fast as you. But I must say it's futile to resist. Eventually, I'll get the answers out of you one way or another. Even if I have to keep you here for a month and chop you up limb from limb. Now tell me; who are you? And more importantly, What are you?"
Baelor just had to look into those cold black eyes to know that the only reason he was still alive was that he hadn't revealed who he was and what he could do. No doubt he would want to either ransom him to the King and his father or try to harness the power that resided within him. His only chance of survival was to somehow find a way of escaping from this place, and the only way to do that was to wait until his Magic somehow recharged and got him out of his situation. He only prayed that his magic didn't take too long to regenerate for he didn't know how much longer he could withstand the pain.
Baelor shook his head from side to side, and the last thing he remembered was seeing Mykes grinning face before a large-knuckled fist came into view and connected with the side of his head, knocking him unconscious immediately.