The door creaked, and then light pierced the darkness. Darius closed his eyes and prayed for the thousandth time to Karak for forgiveness.
“Well this is certainly interesting,” Sebastian said. When Darius opened his eyes, he saw the lord standing at the entrance to his cell, torch in hand.
“Unnecessary is a better term,” Darius said.
“Perhaps. I hope you know where you are. You’re chained in the same cell Pallos was when you executed him in the name of Karak. I’m sure there’s some irony here, though I won’t know it yet until you tell me your story.”
“I have no story to tell. I am a faithful servant of Karak.”
“Then Karak has refused your service,” Sebastian said, stepping closer to the bars. “Why is that, paladin? How did you fail?”
“I did not fail!”
Sebastian laughed as Darius blushed, ashamed of the outburst. What was happening to him, that he would lose his temper so easily?
“You humiliated me before my people,” Sebastian said, pacing before the cell. His footfalls echoed with maddening consistency. “Some now claim the offerings are extra taxes clothed in the garb of faith. Others want your head, for they decry you an imposter. I’ve spread a few rumors of my own. My favorite is that you were pretending to be a paladin to make an assassination attempt on my life. So long as no one understands what’s really going on, I can manipulate this to whatever outcome I desire.”
“And what outcome is that?” Darius asked, feeling too tired for games. “What do you want with me? I did you no wrong. You heard my words. You know I speak truthfully of my faith in Karak.”
“This isn’t about you, boy,” said Sebastian, and he grinned at Darius’s reaction at the term. “This is about the rest of your kind. I’ve sent riders in search of the nearest priest or paladin of Karak that might know who you are, and what it is you’ve done to soil your name. What will they tell me when they return? What does the Stronghold think of the paladin named Darius?”
Darius closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cold stone.
“They’ll say I am a murderer,” he said. “They’ll say I have turned against Karak and betrayed my Order.”
“Did you?”
Eyes still closed, he shook his head.
“I don’t know anymore.”
Sebastian chuckled.
“Then I don’t know, either. I won’t pass judgment on you, just as I passed no judgment on Pallos. Your own kind will come for you, and do with you as they wish. Until then, you’ll stay here.”
“I’m sure the Stronghold will reward you well,” Darius said as Sebastian turned to leave. “That’s what really matters, I know.”
The lord glanced back and smiled.
“Why, that thought never crossed my mind. Sleep well, Darius.”
The door slammed shut, and the darkness returned once more. In that darkness, Karak’s prophet laughed.
“Sleep now,” Velixar said, waving an arm at the mute jailor. The burly man slumped in his chair and passed out. Stepping out from the shadows, the prophet crossed his arms and sighed. His red eyes, irises of fire, chilled Darius’s blood and sent shivers up and down his spine.
“So this is where I find you, you who I thought held such promise? Locked in a dungeon, chained to a wall so you cannot even kneel in prayer to your god? Pathetic.”
“What do you want?”
“Come now, don’t act the idiot with me, even if you did seem somewhat dimwitted to Sebastian. You know what I want. I am no deceiver, no creature of lies. I told you my desire when we first met, and I’m not one prone to change.”
Darius did everything he could to not meet that gaze.
“You want me to learn from you, to accept your word as the word of Karak. I still refuse, prophet.”
Velixar laughed, and there was nothing pleasurable in the sound.
“Yes, because the world certainly agrees with you. Tell me, why am I the one with Karak’s power, and you the fool locked in a cell? Why do the rest of the faithful refuse your wisdom? If even that egomaniacal Sebastian sees through your lies, what hope have you for the rest of Dezrel?”
“Always questions,” Darius said. “How do I learn from you when you say nothing?”
Velixar walked over and brushed a pale finger across the jailor’s forehead.
“I ask questions to show you have no answers, and will do so until you finally open your eyes and realize it.”
The man in black shivered.
“Such wonderful dreams. This man has seen the dark side of this world, Darius, more than you could ever know. If anyone understands Dezrel’s need for order, it is him.”
“Will you help me escape?” Darius asked, feeling unclean as he did.
“Escape? No. Don’t you see, this place, this moment, personifies you perfectly. Karak stands at the gate, ready to free you, and you simultaneously plead for aid while denying him his truths. You cannot have both, Darius. You cannot hold back Karak with one hand and reach for his help with the other.”
Darius felt too tired, too lost to argue. He regretted even asking. Death at the hands of his brethren seemed better than going with the man with the ever-changing face. Still… what if Velixar was right? What if he truly spoke the will of his god?
Velixar knelt before the gate, appearing to be in no hurry. The sun had set, and the jailor slept. They had all night.
“Do you know where you first erred?” Velixar asked.
Darius rolled his eyes. More questions. Always questions.
“I suppose you’ll say when I refused to kill my friend?” he said, his voice full of sarcasm.
“No, that was just a symptom of a greater failure. It is when you treated him as your equal, as your friend. Call me a liar, and doubt my wisdom, but did you ever do the same to Jerico? You overlooked his lies. You forgave his belief in the false god. You treated him as one of your own, and in turn, spat in the face of Karak. Ashhur is the enemy. You cannot serve Karak and refuse that simple truth.”
“No,” Darius said, wishing he could call for the guards. “No. You’re wrong. Karak doesn’t want murder. He doesn’t want bloodshed. He wants order! He wants peace!”
Velixar stood. All trace of humor left him. When he spoke, there was no mockery, no anger. Instead, Darius heard something all the more frightening: certainty.
“My eyes are everywhere,” he said. “I watched you kill the paladin, Pallos. Answer me this one question truthfully, and I will let you be. What happened when you killed him? What happened when your blade cleaved through Pallos’s neck?”
Darius fought against the memory. He had tried to think it made no sense, that it had been a hallucination, a delusion, a deception. The weight of it crushed him, and when he looked into Velixar’s eyes, he knew he could not lie, so he said nothing, for what else could he say?
But Velixar knew. No smiles. No bragging. He spoke quietly, almost gently.
“Your blade burned with Karak’s fire, didn’t it? At that glorious moment, you felt the presence of your god.”
Darius felt tears slide down his face.
“I did,” he said, his voice cracking.
“You took the life of a paladin of Ashhur, and Karak blessed you for it. The truth could not be any simpler. Do you still deny me?”
He wanted to. He needed to. Shaking his head, Darius clung to the last vestige of his faith.
“Killing Jerico would have been wrong,” he said. “You will never convince me otherwise.”
Velixar put his back to him, and as the shadows swirled about, he spoke.
“I will not be the one to convince you, Darius. You will do that on your own. When you do, I will be waiting, and I will welcome you back to the glory of Karak with open arms.”