Chapter 203 - A Poem (1/2)

Chapter 203: A Poem

The hallway was quiet as everyone’s gaze followed the long crooked finger to me.

I furrowed my brows. “Me?”

My mind spun trying to think of why Rahdeas would want to speak to me and what he could possibly say to me in this situation.

“After basically splitting up the entire dwarven kingdom and leaving me to clean up his unwiped ass, who is he to declare who he wants to speak to,” Buhnd growled.

“Do you think he’s aiming to make some sort of deal with General Arthur?” Blaine asked.

“I doubt it. If he wanted to strike a deal, he’d have a much better chance of doing so with Commander Virion or anyone else in the Council,” Merial answered.

“Perhaps it’s because of your ties with Elijah?” Virion wondered.

“That’s… what I’m afraid of,” I sighed.

In the midst of the discussion, Gentry let out a cough to gather our attention. “Councilmembers and lance. It would be an understatement to say it had been difficult for me to get the traitor to talk. Perhaps it’s best we capitalize in my—this achievement and talk to him while he’s still able?”

“Lead the way, Gentry,” I said, walking through the reinforced doors.

Bearing through the familiar musty smell of the castle dungeon, I walked silently behind Gentry while the rest begrudgingly stayed behind. Gentry motioned for the two soldiers guarding the lower levels where Uto and Rahdeas were held to open the door.

Taking a deep breath, I waited for Gentry to carefully unlock the cell barely the size of a shoe closet.

“I will be on standby just outside the door, General Arthur. I’m sure you already know, but please refrain from touching anything else, ” Gentry warned before stepping aside as he opened the cell door.

I waited until the old man left before shifting my gaze to the kneeled man in cuffs. “Rahdeas.”

The man twitched at the sound of his name before a smile formed.

“My gratitude for your time and presence,” he dipped his head respectfully. “Allow me to begin.”

“Begin?” I asked, but the man kept his head and gaze lowered.

I kept my guard up, uneasy because of his odd behavior.

“A lad of humble origins, born wrapped in rags for a towel,” he began, finally lifting his head. “Within, however, he was more. Just like the unassuming ashes of a particular fiery fowl.”

“And as with all heroes-to-be, the lad had the looks and the lad had the might.” Rahdeas stretched out an arm while his other hand laid over his chest. “His mother taught him the world, his father taught him to fight.”

I watched, dumbstruck, as the tortured man continued his epic.

Rahdeas’ voice got deeper, darker. “That is, until the day came,

When the lad knew that there was a larger stage to tame.

“His blood knew as well that they could no longer contain,

The lad’s fire that wished to reign.”

“So they took up their bags and wished their small town good luck,” Rahdeas let out a breath. “But woe, as all stories go, tragedy struck.”

“Rahdeas,” I called out, but was silenced by a raised finger.

The man continued. “But never fret, never doubt, because as all stories go, a hero never drops out.

“So he grows and grows,

Through his heartache and his death throes,

Never ceasing, overcoming.”

Rahdeas looked up at the dim flickering light above us. “Alas, every light needs a shadow,

Every hero needs a foe.

“The brighter the light,

The darker its night.”

Finally locking gazes with me, he shoots me a grin. “But I ask you this, hero-to-be.

What happens when your foe, who has crossed both time and space, is actually brighter than thee?

“Perhaps a fair maiden’s shining knight,

Is another one’s deadly blight,

And the side of dark and the light,

Is just a matter of who wins the right?”

An uncomfortable silence lingered as he finished his—for a lack of a better word—performance and just when I thought things couldn’t get weirder, Rahdeas, his arms chained to the ground, reached out and grabbed my hand with his blood-crusted fingers.

His glossy soulless eyes turned into crescents as he smiled up at me and nodded. “Ah good, you’re real. I was afraid you were just another illusion and that my performance had gone to waste.”

I stared down, not really knowing how to react as Elijah’s guardian continued to hold my hand.

“Hmm. I’ve forgotten how warm a person is.” His gaze remained afar as he stroked my hand like he would a house pet.

I jerked my hand from his grasp. “It seems that your time spent here has made you… unbalanced.”

“Out of all of more accurate words out there, you chose ‘unbalanced’? Not ‘crazy’ or ‘insane’ or ‘mad’, but ‘unbalanced’?” Rahdeas snickered.