Thresh uses a thief to satisfy his curiosity. Chapter contain psychological torture and may be uncomfortable for some readers.
Excitement. Every time something new enters my vaults, that is the feeling that fills me. New things bring questions, something to entertain my mind. In the case of items; what do you do? What about you made those on the higher levels fear you? How will I make you fear me? In the case of people; how did your poor lost soul end up here? Which artifact should I test on you? Will you be entertaining?
"Oh yes, I believe this one will."
I caught this thief trying to break into the vaults. It always amazes me how many think they can get away with stealing from the Order. But I did not turn this one in to the Order's guards. No, I decided to keep her all to myself. It's more fun this way, with nobody objecting to how I prevent further theft. Perhaps someday other will see the brilliance in my methods; artifacts are kept safe and we can study the properties of more dangerous ones.
"To kill two birds with one stone, I believe that is how the saying goes."
Down here in the labyrinth of the vaults, it would be easy for anyone but me to find themselves lost. It's what makes these lowest levels so ideal for keeping my guests. It is too far out of the way for any other Wardens to venture and, should any of my guests find a way to escape their rooms, they would never make it out of here before I found them.
The cold glow of my lantern illuminates one of the stygian corridors as I turn into it. Slivers of it sneak through the cracks around the doors, providing those inside with the first bit of light they have had since my last venture here. It is not as though they need the light. They aren't doing anything or going anywhere. They are all staying in their own cells. And what's more, it gives me another thing to observe about my guests.
It is always interesting to watch how they come to react to the lantern's light. Most recoil with fear, knowing that I come with it, but others are drawn to it, so desperate for a reprieve from the dark that they will press themselves against the doors in an attempt to catch a better glimpse at it.
"Like moths to a flame."
The chains and keys attached to me chink and rattle as I move and the sound echoes down the hall. I could move silently if I wanted to, but I don't. I want to be heard. I want my dear lost souls to know that I am back and steps away from their doors, that last thing keeping me from them.
Behind one of the doors I pass, I can hear the occupant's breathing hitch, his heartrate increasing with each step that I draw near. It's wonderful, to have this much power over someone that you do not even need to be in the room with them to dominate their attentions. Just the thought of you being near is enough to fill one with dread.
I am about to pass another door, but I stop. It is silent, though I know it is occupied.
"No, no, that won't do."
I slam my fist into the door. The sound resounds down the hallway. Now from the door, I hear the sound of limbs scrambling back over the cold pavement and a hushed whimper of fear.
"That's better. Don't ignore me."
The last cell on the left is where my little thief is waiting. She has been left sitting in the darkness for a day. Plenty of time to contemplate the foolishness of her actions and to imagine all the horrid things that may befall her. Few things are as terrifying as what one's own imagination can conjure.
With a click, the key in the lock turns and unlocks the door. Slowly, I push the door open. I want to give the thief time to turn and face the door. That first reaction, horrid curiosity forcing them to blink through the discomfort of sudden light, is not something I want to miss. I enter the cell and look down at the Vault's newest tenant.
Eyes a beautiful shade of brown, like pools of dark honey, stare up at me in wide terror.
"Yes, that is what I want. Look at me, see me, know that I hold your life in my hands."
She looks similar in age to me. I must admit though, that I am not the best example of what a man should look like at a certain age. Being out of the sun for most of the year has lessened its effects on me, keeping me looking more youthful than I am.
"An added boon to my position, some tell me."
She is a limber looking thing, sinewy and lithe. Likely, this was how she was able to sneak into the Vaults, climbing and crawling through the lowest levels of security. If she had stayed to the upper levels, perhaps she would have made it out again, but whether through greed or ill luck, she ended up in the middling layers, just deep enough for security to be my concern. After that, it was a simple game of cat and mouse; herd her to a security enchantment and let the magic take care of the rest.
But as one-sided as that game was, it is not one I want to repeat again so soon, and so, I had left her in this cell bound just as tightly as when I first caught her; rope binding her arms together both at the wrist and the elbows, and a cloth gagged in her mouth. She struggles to right herself at my entrance.
"Always amusing."
I close the door behind me. For a moment, I pretend not to pay her any mind. I look to my staff, the lantern atop it glowing as hauntingly beautiful as always, and mutter the short incantation needed to activate one of its enchantments. The shaft of it segments and becomes flexible like a length of chain. I drape it over a hook on the wall high to my side so that my hands can remain free as it casts its light over us. Now, I turn my attention to her.
"Hello, little thief."
I allow a small smile to cross my lips. Let her see a friendly face, let her see someone who is pleased with this situation, let her wonder why I respond to attempted burglary with happiness rather than anger.
I wait a moment to see if she will attempt to respond to me through the gag, but she makes no attempt. She simply continues to stare. It is mildly annoying, but I continue on without letting my disappointment show.
"Ah yes," I say, "where are my manners? We cannot have a conversation with you in this state. Let me amend that."
Before she has time to think, I step over to her and, in a swift motion, tuck an arm under hers and pull her up. I don't let go until I am sure her feet are steady and she won't collapse. I don't want to have to bend down again. Once she is, I remove the cloth from her mouth and step back towards the door.
"Better?" I ask.
The thief gasps and stretches her jaw. After a few seconds of her not responding, I ask her again.
"Does that feel better?"
"Where am I?" she demands with a frightened voice, "who are you? What's going on?"
"So many questions," I respond, "but you still haven't answered mine. Does that feel better?"
She gives me an incredulous look, but at least she has the decency to not make me ask a fourth time.
"Yes," she responds.
"There, not so difficult to answer a question now, is it?"
"Please, can you tell me –"
"No, no," I interrupt, "let's not go through this again. You don't get to ask any questions until you answer mine. Do you understand?"
"I-I understand," she stammers.
"Good," I nod, "now I will answer your questions. Your first question, 'where am I,' you are exactly where you wanted to be, the Vaults where all those dangers and treasures are stored. 'Who are you,' I am the one who caught you. 'What's going on,' you are being held prisoner for attempted theft and I am deciding how best to mete out justice. As Warden, I am the injured party."
Her expression changes steadily as I continue to speak, shifting from fear to confusion and then to a much deeper terror.
"But," she says, "what about a trial?"
"Trial? You were caught red handed. I don't think there would be much of a trial and, more importantly, nobody else knows that you are here. It's just the two of us who know about your predicament."
The severity of her situation begins to set in. Her mouth hangs open the slightest amount, but she does not appear capable of saying anything else at the moment, so I continue to speak.
"Which makes me your judge, jury, and executioner."
Her eyes are wide, looking at the floor before me, but clearly seeing nothing. Nothing, except perhaps, the dark reality closing in all around her. I dip two fingers below her chin and raise her face so that she is looking into mine. I don't care if she wants to stare at nothing; I want to watch her reaction.
"And I sentence you to community service."
I say this with a gentle, cheerful tone, and let a smile accompany my words.
This response seems to shock her out of her stupor and she stumbles back from me. Her brow furrows with confusion and she gives me the most distrusting look I have received from someone outside the Order.
"What?"
"Community service," I repeat in as congenial manner as before, "oh, were you expecting a death sentence? No, thief, not for your crime. After all, you weren't even able to successfully steal from me, we you?"
No response.
"Were you?" I repeat, louder and with more force.
"No," she quickly snaps.
"Now for what service you should provide. I think it is most appropriate that your service be rendered to the Order, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes," she answers, this time without any additional prompting needed.
"I am glad we are in agreement," I say with a chuckle.
A weak smile descends on her face, but it does nothing to hide her worry.
"Here, what you will do."
I reach into my pocket and pull out a ring. It is a small, unassuming thing. It holds no luster and bares only a simple crosshatch texture hammered into it. By all rights, it looks like a ring a peasant might wear and nothing more. But that is the thing with some of the cursed artifacts here. The more devious ones look harmless. A grand iron obelisk carved with a motif of wailing demon heads with eyes of glowing rubies and a warning engraved upon a plaque attached to its side may look more intimidating and obviously cursed, but it also exudes menace that would drive off many would be victims. A ring that looks completely mundane however is the far more sinister item, for who would be afraid to slip it on their fingers?
"Her, in a few moments."
I hold the ring up by the lantern to make sure she is able to get a good look at it and twist it between my fingers.
"I want you to put on this ring so that I can observe what it does to you and record its abilities for our archives."
Her pathetic smile vanishes. There is no doubt in my mind that she instantly understands that this ring is cured. She knew the items in these vaults were valuable and that many were capable of particularly nasty bits of magic, but I do not think she ever expected to come in such close contact with a dangerous one. Her next words confirm it.
"Is it cursed?"
Her words are a whisper.
"Oh, I supposed I sounded like I didn't know what this ring did," I say, feigning surprise, "please, allow me to clarify myself. Yes, this ring is cursed and I am quite aware of what it does, I just don't understand the extent of these abilities. That's what you are to find out for me. Community service."
She takes another step back and finds herself pressed up against the wall. I hold the ring out as though I were offering her a coin.
"Aren't you curious?"
"No."
"Her fastest response yet," I think with a smirk.
"Liar."
I can see her try to pull her arms more tightly to herself.
"Let me satisfy your curiosity," I continue, "this ring is cursed to remain on the wearer once it is placed upon a finger and plague them with a ceaseless itching sensation. Oh, you may think that as far as curses go, this one is mild, and it begins that way. On the first day, it feels like pinpricks on the finger. On the second day, the itch has become like that of an insect bite and has spread to the hand. The next day, it feels as though you have brushed against the leaves of a poisonous plant as it extends up towards your elbow. The next day, it reaches your shoulder."
As I speak, I take a step towards her and she tries to take one away from me. I circle around, pushing her back towards a corner.
"After that, I do not know. I've always wanted to see what will happen if the curse is allowed to spread to the whole body, but I have never been able to. By the time it spreads past the shoulder, everyone else I have put it on gnawed off their own fingers to get relief, but that won't happen this time."
My hand snaps out faster than she can respond and I catch her shoulder.
"Struggle if you want, but it won't do you any good."
I yank her from the corner and pull her towards me. Her legs are still weak from her day on the floor and it takes little effort to spin her around to grab her bindings. I give them a sharp tug upwards and she gives a panicked cry.
"That's what these are for. I can't have you biting off your finger as well. Do not worry though, when I visit you, I'll be sure to unbind you for a bit so that you can tend to yourself. Maybe we can even experiment to see if any salve or water soothes that itch. Doesn't that sound interesting?"
"Let go!" she shrieks.
"That wasn't an answer to my question."
"No!"
I know that that was not in response to my question, but what of it? It lets me keep playing.
"No?" I repeat, "You don't want to learn what this ring does when it can't be removed? Answer me properly this time, please."
"No," she pleads, "I don't want to know."
I ease my grip on her bindings.
"Very well," I say, letting my voice come down from its excited cadence, "I can understand your hesitancy, but you still have a sentence to serve. This service must be rendered, but if you are reluctant, I have an alternative."
"What?"
"Yes, an alternative. I still want to learn what this ring can do, but it does not need to be your finger that I place it on. Bring another to me and I will let you go. Tell me thief, are you willing to trade the freedom of another for your own?"
This time I allow her a moment to consider my offer, but after a minute of silence, I want an answer. I grab her wrist. I can feel her pulse rapidly beating beneath my fingers, fluttering desperately like a bird trapped in a cat's paw.
"Tell me your answer," I say, "or I will simply have to assume you are accepting the due punishment for your crime."
She curls her fingers into a fist in an act of feeble defiance. I wrap my hand up from her wrist to the back of her hand and hook my fingers under one of hers. Slowly, I pull it back, giving her time to struggle.
"Wait, wait!" she pleads.
"I have been waiting."
I run the ring along the underside of her finger.
"And I don't want to wait anymore."
I place its rim against the tip of her finger and scrape it against her nail.
"I want an answer now."
"I'll do it!" she cries, "I'll do it, I'll do it. I'll find someone. I promise! Please, please, don't put that ring on me! Please."
She is trembling.
"So, that is your answer?"
"Yes, yes, I'll find someone."
"Very good, thief."
I release her and she lets out a shuddering sigh and curls back into the corner.
"There will be terms to this arrangement, of course. You will have three days to complete this task, you will not tell a single soul about this, and you will not run away. If you violate a single one of these conditions, I will know and I will find you. Do you understand?"
As terrified as she is, she responds quickly.
"Yes, I understand."
"I'm not sure you entirely do, but don't worry, I will make sure that you do. If you disobey me or fail to complete this task, you will wish I had put this ring on you. There are things down here far more dangerous than a trinket that gives a nasty rash, and those things are just waiting for something to pick apart piece by piece by piece. I have found that those dangerous things are more willing to be cooperative if you let them show their true nature every so often, so either way, if by providing knowledge or placating an artifact, you will be serving my purposes. You have the luxury of choosing how you do this. Many others aren't so fortunate."
She doesn't say anything, but that doesn't matter. I wasn't looking for an answer this time. I go and take my lantern down from the hook. I give it a small toss upwards and the staff resumes its rigid form once more.
"I will let you go tomorrow. Tonight, I want you to sit without distraction and plan how you are you to fulfill you half of the bargain. Make use of this time and rest well. I will see you tomorrow, little thief."
I leave the cell and lock it behind me. With the barrier between us once more, I can hear her slump down and whimper out a despairing few sobs. I may need to wait a few days longer to satisfy my curiosity, but now at least, I can enjoy the sounds of misery's sweet tones.