Check it, Yo!


Pain. I could feel it washing against me gradually, as if slowed by time somehow. It was a dull pain, however. More akin to an ache rather than the piercing heat of searing flesh. It was a feeling I'd experienced before. On the few occasions that someone had taken such a disliking to me that they’d then saw fit to beat me half to death. This happened to be one of those times. Another explosion of pain ruptured within my abdomen, harder than before. I lurched forward, unable to control my reaction to this new hurt. I vomited. A coagulation of blood, bile and my half-digested breakfast. It hit the stone floor with a warm splat, also managing to cover the dark, leather boot of my assailant.

"You bast-" He began before another voice cut him off.

"Come now, Master Alseif. I expected you to take much more than that before showering the floor with your breakfast."

I gasped for air, breathing heavily due to the retching I'd just submitted my body to. I eyed the man through the sweat-soaked fringe of my dark hair, draped over my face during my latest beating. "Go fuck yourself." I breathed. It was my pleasantly defiant nature that normally got me caught up in these type of situations. This time was different though, they had taken me during the night. A bag-over-the-head job. Quick and organised. Like someone had been watching me for a while and had planned it all. Most of all it was clean, way too clean. I mean, sure, they were laying into me now, but if this had been any of the usual scum that writhed within the Undercroft, I knew at least one of them wouldn't have been able to resist giving me a quick hiding before hand, 'Just in case'. No, this wasn't just some ordinary rabble of crooks, sent to pluck me from my less-than-infrequent moments of peace and tranquility. These guys were professional, which was far more than I deserved, but I very much enjoyed my sleep, so I was right to be pissed off.

Another strike hit me across the face. The calloused hand causing me to spew more blood and more spittle from my slack-jawed gob. Amidst the pain and the tiredness, I kept asking myself only one question: Why go through all this trouble for a clean snatch only to beat me senseless without asking any questions or accusing me of anything? And then it hit me, just as the follow-up hand did on the other side of my face. There were only two suspects to who could be behind it. Either it was Sloan, a Topman from within the Undercroft. One that held more than his fair share of power throughout the City of Shadows. Or it was the Royal Guard, sent into the arsehole of Balast to fish me out for reasons unknown. Sloan's motives I could probably understand. My operations had been more than a thorn in his side for a while now.

But the Royal Guard? Which of the Gods' vengeance could possibly motivate them to come all the way down here for little old me? Assuming 'here' was still the Undercroft, of course. When they'd taken me, I had been asleep but they'd woken me without any trouble. However, aside from the injuries I now owned, I didn't feel as though they'd hit me to knock me out. Which meant the use of a spell or a potion. Both of those things being far beyond even the powerful reach of Sloan. Which left only the Royal Guard, backed by the King and his Order of Magi. Witch-men and women who devoted their lives to ancient texts of power and the concoction of potions and poisons for the exclusive use of the King. And if that was true then I was in a lot more trouble than I'd first thought.

"Fucking Royals." I grunted, the pain in my jaw making it difficult to talk without it hurting.

"I see you've finally figured it out." The hidden voice said. "It only took you three days."

Three days? When had that happened? And how was I even still alive? I gazed upon the mess I'd made of the floor, noticing that, instead of the usual mush of sausages and beans, it was a mixture of milk and oats; typical guard slop. I spat on it, contorting my face into a look of disgust. Well, as much as I could given the bruises and blood. It meant that they'd been beating, drugging and healing me for three straight days. And they probably didn't heal me completely anyway. Knowing them, they'd have left me in just enough pain to attempt to sleep with, whilst some sop spoon-fed me a bowl of crappy oatmeal. Then they blanked me and started the process all over again.

I almost began to ask them why. Why bother for three days? Why not just K-. And that's when it clicked. They couldn't just kill me. They needed me. They needed me alive. A wry smile crept across my battered face. Bloodied welts glistened in the meager light emitted from the low-lit candles that were scattered around where ever the hell they were keeping me. It was a well-known interrogation tactic used by the Royal Guard, but considering my situation and being bashed around the head more times than I could remember, it’s only fair that I’d forgotten that they were using it on me.

"And yet you still haven't dusted me. Which means I must be important." The coy tone in my voice caused the owner of hidden voice to step partially into the light. The dark stubble of his wide jaw and his dry lips being the only features he allowed me to see. But it was enough. I could see the snarl formed by his mouth, one that spread across the entirety of his face. I could see it clearly, even if the upper half were shrouded in darkness. "So then, how insane is this request that you've been trying for three days to convince me to accept?"

"What makes you think it's a request? Surely you don't think you're that important, do you?" He replied. Answering questions with more questions, how typical of a Royal.

"The clean snatch, the use of potions and healing spells, then blanking me so I don't remember the daftness of it when you next come to question me? Someone obviously thinks I am." I smiled again and he clenched his jaw.

“You’re not as clever as you think you are, boy. But you’ll do.” He said. Stepping further into the light, I finally got a good look at his face.

“I’ll do for what? Some crazy scheme that neither you nor any of your witches can summon up the balls to do for themselves?” I spat as soon as I finished the question, more blood mixed with saliva. Magic was a foul thing. There was no place for it among the world, not when men could carry out the same tasks just as easily, or so I thought anyway.

“This ‘crazy scheme’, as you so adequately put, has been sanctioned by the very order of the King Himself.” He stated, very matter-of-fact-like. I watched the man in silence, trying to gauge him and whether what he said was the truth. Clearly he hadn’t convinced me before, otherwise I’d have been out and skipping along to the King’s tune already. "Bring her out." He ordered. Her? What the hell did he mean by Her?

I heard a heavy door open and then close quickly. It made a thud as it closed which reverberated around the room. I could then hear shuffling steps as whoever it was moved through the darkness. They seemed to take forever and my body was growing increasingly more tired. Another hit around the back of my head soon woke me, however. It was then that she reached the edge of the light, the furrows of her white dress barely revealed by the poor emittance, but I could tell that was where she stood.

With another step she was cast fully into the light. I was just able to make out the features of her face. Her high cheekbones, her dark eyes, a small nose and soft, pink lips. She looked extremely familiar to me, but I definitely would have remembered if I'd bedded her. Long, raven hair draped over each of her shoulders and down over her breasts, stopping at around her midsection. It reminded me of when I was merely a boy eight summers, maybe even seven. I had definitely met this girl before, but I couldn't figure out where or when. By the time my gaze had returned to her face, she'd fixed me with an unimpressed look before uttering two words, "Hello Kalas."

Then I remembered. We'd met when we were both children. My mouth dropped open as much as it could, given the beating it had taken. I stumbled on a few words before finally managing, "Oh shit." It was all I could say in return.