The Weakness of a Mind

It wasn’t the screams that woke Kiinrin, and nor was it the noxious smell of human excretions. The thing that woke him was something he had never heard before, something that chilled his blood and caused him to sit up instantly in a cold sweat. Kiinrin was awoken by the hysterical laughter of hundreds of men and women.

Aia above. He swore. Where am I?

He looked around frantically, hoping to find something familiar to get his bearings. His stomach clenched as he surveyed where he was. He lay on a rough linen cot in a dark room- the only light was coming from a sputtering torch that lay beyond iron bars.

He was in a cell?

It was like no cell he had ever seen, or, at least, he could imagine. He had never actually seen a prison cell. But if he had, this one was almost certainly not what he had in mind. It wasn’t made of the smooth, clean sandstone that he had become familiar with in Xexera and Matrikai. Water dripped off of dark grey cobblestone that was riddled with cracks and holes. He could hear rats and mice skittering around in the shadows of the room, and he had to steel himself to keep from cringing.

As he continued to survey the room, the door past the bars burst open and two laughing guards walked in.

“I tell you, Hurin.” The first chuckled. “These people get crazier every year. Did you see that one lady out there? Completely naked, hair tied up like horns, screaming about the three-toed horses that were coming to eat her?”

“How could I not?” The second, Hurin, replied, slapping the other on the back. “That was even better than when she did that last week.” They both looked at Kiinrin, as if noticing him for the first time. “Who’s this one?”

The first guard checked a slip of paper he held in his hand. “Says here it’s Kiinrin Gestarinsson.” He grinned. “Feeble in mind.”

“Really?” Hurin said with a raised eyebrow. He looked back at Kiinrin. “What’s your name, boy?”

Kiinrin opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to tell them he was the son of a Glausianian King, a Jod, and that he didn’t belong here. As he tried, however, his tongue became tied in his mouth, and his words came out in a slurred, halting fashion.

“I.. am… Kiinrin.” He said, the words coming slowly. “Where am I?” His speech was like molasses, moving slowly and harshly.

The men laughed. “He’s feeble, alright. Aia’s blood, that is the worst case I’ve seen of it.” The first man nodded at the second. “You carry on. I can take care of this one.”

Hurin shrugged. “Anybody could take care of this one. Doesn’t have enough going on in that head of his to put up much of a fight.” He grabbed the piece of paper from the first guard and opened the door. “Holler if you need anything, alright?”

“Of course.” The first guard scoffed. Hurin shrugged and exited, closing the door softly behind him.

Kiinrin continued to try to speak, but his lips and tongue wouldn’t let him. He only succeeded in making some gurgling sounds that scarcely resembled speech. Luckily, it got the first guard’s attention. He turned around and, noticing Kiinrin, snapped his fingers. Immediately, the tongue-tied feeling fled.

“Steady now, Kiinrin.” The guard said, the smile falling off of his face. “You don’t want to hurt yourself. There is much for you to do.”

“Who are you?” Kiinrin snapped. The sensation had made him extremely irritable. “What do you want?”

The guard rolled his eyes. “We’ve spent enough time together, Kiinrin, for you to recognize me on sight.”

Kiinrin’s eyes widened. “Nirnik?”

The guard nodded. “In the flesh.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Helping you through your trial. You didn’t think we would leave you all alone in the Void, did you?”

“Well…” Kiinrin trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, honestly. The suffocating blackness of the Void hadn’t left much time for thought. He didn’t finish the though- instead he looked around the cell. “Where am I?”

“I think you’ve already answered that question yourself.” Nirnik said with a raised eyebrow. He gestured to the room around him. “Where do you think you are?”

Kiinrin shuddered. “An asylum.”

Nirnik nodded. “Indeed.” He looked pointedly at Kiinrin. “I wonder if you have realized what your own ailment in this place is.”

“Feeblemindedness?” Kiinrin said slowly, struggling to understand. He thought about what the tongue-tied feeling resembled, and realization popped into his brain. He blanched. “It’s almost like… when I was a child. My affliction of the mind.” Kiinrin held a small candle of a hope that Nirnik would shake his head, would refute what he had said.

Nirnik, however, nodded. “Just as when you were a child, your affliction now runs through your body. However, I have preserved your mind, so that you can try to accomplish your task.”

“Why?” Kiinrin said, tears stinging his eyes. Then, as he thought about it, he changed his question. “How?”

Nirnik shook his head and sighed. “Nyxiv may be free with that kind of information, but I believe that purity of choice leads to better actions. Suffice to say that, in this place, I have power.” He looked back at the door. “It has been too long. You must come with me.”

“But…” Kiinrin tried to say, but Nirnik snapped his fingers. The speech bind fell back into place, stopping any of Kiinrin’s attempts to speak.

Nirnik walked to the bars and unlocked the door. “You can still walk, can’t you?”

Kiinrin slid off of the bed onto unsteady legs. Yes, he could. He held onto that knowledge, that he was still able to do something, as he walked with Nirnik out the door.

* * *

The room stank like an unwashed skunk, and Kiinrin had to work to keep himself from vomiting. What in the world was this place?

“Welcome to the mess hall, Kiinrin.” Nirnik said, grimacing. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable. If you become used to this, who knows what horrible places you might end up in.”

“I don’t think I could ever grow used to this.” Kiinrin choked in his slurred manner as he looked around. “How could anyone?”

The room was as dark and dank as the cell he awoke in, water dripping down the walls and creating stagnant pools on the ground. Kiinrin wondered how it was possible for that to happen. Were they underground? Was that why this place could continue existing without being inspected by the authorities? It was a international law that there must be minimal conditions met for asylums and prisons. This place destroyed them all.

About a hundred men and women, dressed in dirty robes, sat in rows at wooden tabled. They all had a single bowl of mush in front of them, but few were eating. Many were simply staring off into the distance, with several different kinds of expressions. Kiinrin saw people who looked joyed, terrified, loving, nervous, and hysterical. Whatever it was they saw, Kiinrin didn’t want to know what it was.

“You have to go to the cauldron for food.” Nirnik said, pointing at the far end of the room. A burly man in a grubby apron was serving mush from a black cauldron. “Then you sit as far away from people as possible so you can eat in peace.” He pointed at one man who was wrestling with another. “Or else that happens.”

“Why am I here?” Kiinrin stuttered, terrified at his environment. “Why would you send me to such a dismal place?”

“Because this is where you will flourish.” Nirnik shrugged. “Trust me.” He turned on his heel and left.

Kiinrin walked slowly toward the cauldron, completely terrified at what could happen. So many horrible events could occur in this place- at least, they did in the stories. Endless fairy tales told all about the wicked things that happened in the unknown places like these.

He grabbed a bowl and held it out for the Watcher. The man grunted and ladled a large blob of mush into it. Kiinrin was surprised at both the man’s quick and uncaring motion and how, even with his apathy, he didn’t spill any of the mush.

“Thank you.” Kiinrin stuttered, angry at how slow the words came out.

The man gave him a strange look. “Move along, now. And don’t say things like that. You’ll only find trouble.” He waved his hands toward Kiinrin. “Shoo.”

Kiinrin did so, confused at the reaction his gratitude had received. Men always found gratitude appealing, so why hadn’t this one? Were the Watcher’s here just as crazy as their charges? Whatever the case, Kiinrin didn’t know. So he just found a place at table that was devoid of other people, and began to attempt eating the mush. It was bland, tasteless, and rubbery. Normal asylum food, he suspected.

“I would be careful around here, mate.” A rough, Reledanian accented voice said behind him. “This here is Drik’s table, and he doesn’t like it when other people try and rain on his parade.”

“Rain on his…” Kiinrin didn’t understand the idiom. He continued to try and figure it out even as a very hairy Reledanian sat down next to him, a wild look in his eyes.

“I’m telling you, mate.” The man said, gesticulating wildly. He almost knocked his bowl of mush onto the floor several times with his crazed motions. “This is the last place you want to be.”

“What are you talking about?” Kiinrin said, struggling to get the words out in his confusion. He hoped the man would be able to follow his words.

The man didn’t seem to mind. He pointed at the end of their table, where an enormous, scarred man sat laughing with a few other men.

“That there is Drik Kiloon.” The man whispered conspiratorially. “He’s the only sane man in here. His uncle hates him, and since he runs the asylum, he put his nephew in here to make him learn his place. But,” His voice dropped so low Kiinrin had trouble hearing him. “His father is the captain of the Watchers, and so he gets away with murder.” He grimaced. “Literally.”

“I.. I’m sorry.” Kiinrin said, turning back to the crazed man. “Who are you?”

The man smacked his palm to his head comically. “Sorry about that, mate. Never been good with you humans.” He held out a grubby hand. “The name’s Juxin.” He puffed out his chest and smiled proudly. “I’m a Flen.”

Kiinrin almost spit out a part of his mush as he fought to keep from laughing. This man was a Flen? He remembered he was in an asylum, but that only made him want to laugh even harder. He supposed there were crazy people, and then there were crazy people.

“I’m Kiinrin.” Kiinrin said, shaking the man’s hand. He decided that if he was going to be living in an asylum, he would play the part. ‘I’m a Jod and a crown prince of Glausiania.”

The man’s jaw dropped. “You’re lucky, mate. We get a few Jods in here, even a royal or two. But never in the same person.” His eyes narrowed. “Should I bow because of your rank, or kill you because you’re a Jod?”

Kiinrin blanched. “How about we consider them oppo… oppos…” He struggled to get the word out, but he gave up. “How about they cancel each other out?”

Juxin laughed and clapped Kiinrin on the back. “I like that. We can just be friends then.”

Kiinrin laughed along with him. “Friends are good. Much better than killing.”

Jaxin’s smile fled. “I don’t think that one agrees with us.” He stood up quickly. “Best be going now.”

“Sit back down, friend.” A slick voice said. “Why the hurry?” Kiinrin felt another person sit down on his other side. “We’re all friends here.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Drik.” Juxin said acidly. “We were just about to leave anyway.”

“Really?” Drik Kiloon laughed, and Kiinrin winced. “Why would you sit at my table then?”

“We didn’t know.” Kiinrin blurted, sort of. His ailment kept him from speaking quite that fast. “Sorry.”

Drik looked at Kiinrin like a connoisseur looked at his next meal. “And you are?”

“Nobody of importance!” Juxin interrupted, throwing a look at Kiinrin. “Like I said, we were just leaving.”

“Sit down, friend.” Drik said, and he said it with such force that Juxin sat down immediately, his face white. “We’re just having a nice chat. That’s all.”

“I’ve seen what happens to people that have friendly chats with you, Drik.” Juxin said coldly. “I don’t like what happens. Makes me think I’ll have to Harvest you.”

Drik stared at him blankly for a second, then burst into laughter. All of his cronies laughed along with him. “I forgot some of the delusions you people have. Almost makes this place entertaining enough to not be a prison.”

“I thought this was an asylum.” Kiinrin said, but Drik looked at him with disgust.

“First of all,” He said, wagging a finger. “Don’t try to talk if you can’t do it fast enough for me to listen. Second, this isn’t an asylum for me.” He looked angrily at the man at the cauldron. “It’s a prison.”

“But-” Kiinrin started to mumble, but Juxin elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t contradict him.” He hissed. “We don’t want to make him mad.”

“Hey!” Drik shouted, and all eyes turned toward him. He stood slowly, like a cold wind rising on a cloudless day. “I told you once, Juxin, this kid and I are just having a conversation.” He grabbed Juxin by his robes and lifted him bodily into the air. “Understand?”

“Oh yes.” Juxin said quickly, struggling to breathe. “Oh yes, great Drik. I’m sorry for angering you.” He whimpered. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Drik scowled at him and ground his teeth. “I don’t like your tone, Juxin.” Suddenly, a wicked smile crossed his face. “But I won’t hurt you.” He tossed Juxin onto the ground. “I’m just going to show you what happens when someone annoys me.”

“What are you…” Kiinrin said, but he stopped as Drik walked away. He pushed his way through the crowds of people until he found one haggard looking man that sat alone at the far end of the room. He sat down next to him and put his arm around him like they were friends.

“How are you today, Liken?” He said loudly. “You’re looking well.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” The man stuttered, his eyes darting around wildly. “I’m doing well, very well, thank you my lord.”

Drik laughed. “My lord! I like that.” He pulled Liken up and dragged him to where Juxin and Kiinrin stood. “Let me introduce you to my friends, Liken.” He pointed at Juxin and Kiinrin in turn. “This is Juxin, the Flen, and this is…” He trailed off questioningly.

“Kiinrin.” Kiinrin supplied slowly. Aia’s blood, why did he have trouble pronouncing his own name?

“Kiinrin.” Drik nodded, wrapping his arm around Liken tighter. “Do you like them?”

“Oh yes, yes, yes.” Liken blurted. “I like them very much, very much my lord.” He looked at Drik wildly. “May I go now? I have children to feed.” He held out a few acorns with faces drawn on them in charcoal. “They need me.”

Drik smiled, but this one held no warmth. It was a wicked smile, and it promised only pain. “Oh no, Liken, they don’t.” He put his hands on Liken’s face and jerked it to look at Kiinrin. “In fact, these are the only ones you’ll see for a long time.” Liken’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he had no time to think. With a quick and deliberate motion, Drik twisted his head to the right. Bones cracked, and Liken fell to the ground with a broken neck. Before Kiinrin and Juxin had any time to react, Drik had jumped back and plastered a look of horror and fear on his face.

“He killed him!” He yelled, and everyone’s eyes turned toward them. Drik pointed an accusing finger at Juxin. “Juxin killed Liken!”

“What?” Juxin spluttered, looking around as guards suddenly appeared and marched towards him. “No I didn’t!” A pair of burly Watchers grabbed his arms and wrenched him down onto his knees.

“He didn’t!” Kiinrin yelled, and the Watcher’s eyes turned to him. “He didn’t kill Liken!”

The Watcher looked at Drik, almost as if he was bored. “Is this true?”

Drik scoffed. “Of course not! Why would I lie?”

The Watcher looked back at Kiinrin and shrugged. “He cannot lie. What he says is the truth.” He looked angrily at Juxin. “And there is a punishment for murder in this place.”

“No!” Kiinrin screamed, and he found his speech impediment gone. “You cannot do this!”

“We can.” Another Watcher laughed. “We are the law in this place. We may do as we please.”

“But it is not justice!” Kiinrin screamed. This was his trial! His trial was to save this man. It had to be! “This is murder!”

The Watcher shook his head. “Restrain this boy. If he gets away, kill him.” A burly Watcher grabbed Kiinrin and forced him to his knees as another Watcher made Juxin do the same. Kiinrin continued to scream and sob, pleading for them to show mercy, but nothing was working. The lead Watcher drew his sword from a sheath at his side and advanced on Juxin. Juxin himself looked terrified, and he looked at Kiinrin as if to help. But Kiinrin could do nothing.

“Let it be known.” The Watcher said as he raised his arm to strike. “Crime cannot be permitted within these walls. Let this man be an example to the rest of you.”

Kiinrin screamed one last time as he brought his arm down to strike. As he watched, begging for it not to happen, something granted his wish. The whole world froze.

And Juxin rose with a sigh.

“I wish that I had not been given to you.” He said, and his face transformed into Nirnik’s. “I wish that you did not have to experience this.” Only, it was not Nirnik. This face was a dull grey, and Nirnik’s features could barely be seen on it. “But it had to have been done. And you succeeded.” He held out his hands, one jet black and the other pure white. “Sometimes it is necessary for vice to exist. No one, not even God, can stop men from choosing their own path. You have learned this, and that was all you needed to do.” As Kiinrin watched, his hands dulled to the same grey that covered his face. “Your part has been fulfilled, Crown Prince.” He smiled. “Rest. You will wake soon.”

The world exploded in a storm of white light.