Echoes of Broken Vows

Chapter 16

Rowan’s bare back was pressed against the cold stone wall, he stared across the dimly lit room at Sam, they were almost in complete darkness. Heavy iron chains were bound tightly to their wrists, water dripped on their heads, drop by drop, to deprive them of sleep.

Sam looked back at Rowan, “Do you think they know everything?”

His voice was rough from the fight.

He coughed, it echoed through the empty dungeon.

Rowan shook his head, wincing as the motion sent a jolt of pain through his bruised body. “I don’t know. The maps... They’re damning, but they don’t tell the whole story.”

A tense silence fell between them, broken only by the drip of water and the occasional rattle of their chains. The uncertainty of their fate hung heavy in the air.

“Whatever happens,”

Sam said, his voice stronger now, “we stick to the plan. We reveal nothing about the others.”

Rowan nodded grimly. “Agreed. No matter what they do to us.”

The sound of approaching footsteps made them both tense. Keys rattled in the lock, and the door creaked open, flooding the cell with harsh torchlight. Two burly guards entered, their faces impassive behind their helmets. Between them stood a figure that made Rowan’s blood run cold.

Sailas, the Eidolon’s master interrogator, glided into the room like a pale specter. His sallow skin seemed to glow in the torchlight, and his eyes, dark and glittering, moved between Rowan and Sam with predatory interest. A thin smile played across his lips, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp.

“Gentlemen,”

Sailas said, his voice a silky whisper that somehow filled the entire cell, “I do hope you’re comfortable. We have much to discuss, you and I.”

He gestured to the guards, who moved to unchain Rowan and Sam from the walls, as Sam tried to resist the guard landed a right hook across his face, leaving a red hot bruise across his cheek. “Leave him alone,”

Rowan growled. As rough hands grabbed him, Rowan caught Sam’s eye one last time. In that brief glance, a wordless promise passed between them – to endure whatever came next, to protect their cause and each other, no matter the cost.

“Follow me,”

Sailas said, turning to lead the way out of the cell. “Let us retire to more... Suitable accommodations for our conversation.”

Sailas led them into the circular chamber, the air crackled with an unsettling energy. The room was dominated by two ornate chairs in the center, their metal frames adorned with intricate runes that pulsed with an eerie blue light. Various implements of torture lined the walls, some familiar, others so alien and twisted that Rowan couldn’t begin to guess their purpose.

Sailas gestured for the guards to secure Rowan and Sam to the chairs. As the cold metal touched their skin, both men felt a wave of weakness wash over them, as if the very chairs were draining their strength.

“Gentlemen,”

he started, his voice deceptively soft, “did you truly believe your little game would go unnoticed?”

A cruel smile played across his lips as he stopped, turning to face them directly.

“You see, we’ve known about your... Extracurricular activities for quite some time. But knowledge, as you well know, is power. And we chose to let you play out your little rebellion.”

Sailas’s eyes gleamed with a mix of triumph and anticipation. “Oh, yes. We knew about the Mytholite shipment attack. In fact, we counted on it.”

He began to pace again, clearly relishing their shocked expressions. “You were so caught up in your own cleverness, you never stopped to consider that you might be pawns in a larger game.”

Sailas gestured, and a shimmering image appeared in the air between them - a map of the surrounding territories, with various points glowing ominously.

“Your attack gave us the perfect excuse to implement... Stricter measures. To extend our reach. The fear you’ve sown has made the people more compliant, more willing to accept our protection.”

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “In your misguided attempt to weaken us, you’ve only made the Eidolon stronger.”

Straightening up, Sailas’s expression hardened. “But now, the game has changed. We need to know who else is involved, how deep this conspiracy runs. And you, my friends,”

he said, his gaze moving between Rowan and Sam, “are going to tell us everything.”

The air in the chamber seemed to thicken, runes, glowing with a dim blue light started to glow across the chair’s surface giving a burning sensation on their backs. “The questioning is going to be rather simple I’m afraid, we only need to do so for the sake of bureaucracy”

Sailas began to casually explain. Sailas approached Rowan, violently grabbing his hair, making him look directly into Sailas reptiley eyes, “Tell the truth, and the pain will be mild, choose to lie, and suffer”. Sailas released Rowan and walked to take a seat infront of the men. Sailas circled the chairs, his footsteps echoing in the chamber. He stopped behind Rowan, placing his hands on the chair. The runes flared, sending a jolt of pain through Rowan’s body.

“Let’s start simple,”

Sailas said, his voice deceptively gentle. “How long have you been planning your little rebellion?”

Rowan gritted his teeth, refusing to answer. Sailas sighed, and the pain intensified.

“I won’t ask again. How long?”

“Months,”

Rowan gasped, the word torn from him.

Sailas moved to face them both. “Better. Now, tell me, who else is involved in your conspiracy?”

Sam and Rowan exchanged a glance, their resolve visible even through their pain.

“No one,”

Sam said. “It was just us.”

Sailas chuckled, a cold sound devoid of humor. “Lies will only make this worse for you.”

He gestured, and both chairs flared with energy. Sam and Rowan cried out in unison.

“Who helped you plan the attack on the Mytholite shipment?”

Sailas pressed.

Through ragged breaths, Rowan managed to say, “We... We did it alone.”

Sailas shook his head, disappointment clear on his face. “I had hoped we could do this the easy way.”

He pulled out a vial of swirling purple liquid - Mytholite. “Do you know what happens when Mytholite is used improperly? The effects can be... Most unpleasant.”

As he approached with the vial, Sam’s eyes widened in terror. “Wait! Please, don’t—”

“Then tell me,”

Sailas hissed, “what were you planning to do after destroying our Mytholite supply?”

Hours passed, a blur of pain and questions. Sailas was relentless, his techniques growing more brutal as Sam and Rowan continued to resist.

“What did you hope to achieve by disrupting our ascensions?”

Sailas demanded, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Rowan, his body slumped in exhaustion, mumbled, “To stop the sacrifices...”

Sailas grabbed Rowan’s face, forcing him to look into his eyes. “You’re trying my patience, boy. One last time - who else in the Eidolon is sympathetic to your cause?”

The silence stretched, broken only by the labored breathing of the two prisoners. Then, finally, something inside Sam broke.

“No one,”

he whispered, his voice filled with defeat. “It was just us. No one else knew.”

Rowan’s head snapped up, a mix of relief and despair on his face. But now that Sam had started talking, he couldn’t stop.

“We... We were planning to destroy all the Mytholite we could find,”

he continued, tears streaming down his face. “To end the ascensions and the vessel sacrifices.”

Sailas smiled, triumph gleaming in his eyes. He turned to Rowan. “Is this true?”

Rowan, seeing the fight leave Sam’s eyes, felt his own will crumble. “Yes,”

he said. “It’s true. We were trying to bring down the Eidolon from within, to stop the ascensions. But no one else was involved. We acted alone.”

Sailas stepped back, satisfaction clear on his face. “There, was that so difficult? Rest assured, your cooperation will be noted.”

He turned to the guards. “Take them back to their cell. I believe Grandmaster Garron will be very interested in what we’ve learned today.”

The guards showed both men back to their cells, chaining them back to opposite walls, leaving them alone almost in complete darkness.

The darkness of the cell seemed to close in around them, oppressive and suffocating. Rowan’s voice quivered, barely above a whisper, as he forced out the words: “What do you think is going to happen to us?”

His eyes, once bright with determination, now shimmered with unshed tears in the dim light.

Sam couldn’t bring himself to meet Rowan’s gaze. The weight of their failure, of their shattered dreams, pressed down upon him like a physical force. “I don’t know,”

he rasped, his voice hoarse from screaming. “But whatever comes next... It will be a nightmare beyond imagining.”

He paused, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “Rowan, I... I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I dragged you into this hell.”

Rowan summoned what little strength he had left, forcing his head up to look at his friend. “No, Sam. Don’t you dare apologize. This was my choice... Our choice. And even now, facing whatever horrors await us, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

His words were fierce, even as a single tear traced its way down his dirt-streaked cheek.

Time lost all meaning in the oppressive darkness of their cell. Minutes stretched into hours, hours into what felt like an eternity. The only sounds were the steady drip of water from unseen pipes and their own ragged breathing. Each drop echoed like a hammer blow, counting down to an unknown but terrifying fate.

Without warning, the silence was shattered by the ominous echo of approaching footsteps. Rowan and Sam tensed, their bodies instinctively trying to shrink away from the impending threat. The cell door creaked open with a soul-chilling screech of rusted metal.

Sailas entered first, his thin lips curled into a cruel smile that sent ice through their veins. Behind him loomed Garron, the cold disappointment was brutally clear on his face. Guards flanked them, their armored forms seeming more like executioners than protectors.

“My boys,”

Garron began, his voice heavy with feigned sorrow. “I cannot express the depth of my disappointment.”

His eyes, hard as flint, raked over their broken forms. Sam and Rowan struggled to meet his gaze, shame and terror warring within them.

Garron paced the small cell, every movement deliberate and menacing. “The punishment I have chosen,”

he continued, his tone growing darker with each word, “was not an easy decision. But your betrayal... Your heresy... It demands a response that will echo through the halls of the Eidolon for generations to come.”

He stopped, turning to face them fully. The torchlight cast deep shadows across his face, making him appear more demon than man. “We will perform an ascension,”

he declared, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Sam and Rowan’s eyes met, horror dawning as the full implications of Garron’s words sank in.

“Sam,”

Garron continued, his gaze boring into the younger man, “you will be the vessel. Your body, your very essence, will be sacrificed.”

He then turned to Rowan, a twisted smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“And you, Rowan. Your consciousness will be transferred into Sam’s body. You will live with the knowledge that your closest friend, your brother in arms, died so that you might continue to serve the very order you sought to destroy.”

Rowan and Sam tried to launch and attack him, their chains holding them back, “You twisted old man,”

Rowan yelled at the top of his lungs.

Without flinching Garron turned to leave, saying coldly, “Soon you’ll realize that the only thing that you’ll be remembered by, are the echoes of your broken vows to one another.”