Chapter II. Seeds of Our Kin.

“You didn’t just find any man alive, you found a child?!” Caddiceus was well into disbelief. “A child just walked into the keep in the middle of a storm?!”

“Everything Malthus and I have told you has been truth, boy.” Cedric sat at the war table with his hands locked together. His eyes focused on the worn map beneath his arms and he quivered his lip.“We are simply as clueless as you are.”

The conversation had been briefly interrupted by the sounds of the boy playing with the wooden models of knights on horses and weapons of siege. He thrust air from his mouth with wistful bangs, booms and crashes as he clashed the pieces together. If he had not been satisfied by the first playful display, he would repeat throwing the two models into one another until finally throwing them aside and ending with a small giggle. He soon moved on to attempting to dislodge a knife out of the torn map, which was ignored by the bickering few.

“Preservation is essential, however, this child must have a home. Somewhere possibly more people of his kind have come from.” Malthus’ flame plumed narrow from his pale, wrinkled head. Caddiceus could tell that even he was unsure of how to proceed. “But for now, the child will not speak.”

“Does he understand the common tongue?” Caddiceus prodded.

“No word seems to elicit response. He was excited whilst I cooked the sweet bread he devoured.” Malthus responded. He kept a playful air in his tone when discussing the boy, something rare from the sorcerer.

“So, he knows what food is. That’s a start.” Caddiceus further cemented his disappointment in the elders, he expected far more wisdom on their end.

Malthus gave his former pupil the look that founded his title of “Render of Kaladan”. A stern, stoic stare bathed in cold shadow ever enhanced by the icy white in his eyes. Caddiceus was reminded to be sparing with his sarcasm.

“Caddiceus.” Cedric spoke softly. “Malthus had told me of a subject of arcane that you have been studying. One that might help in this situation.”

Caddiceus paused for only a moment. He knew where the old man was going. “I will not tamper with this child’s mind.”

Malthus closed his weary eyes and released a long breath. Cedric lifted his thumbs from his intertwined hands and bore his forehead into them. Caddiceus snatched the knife from the child just as he wiggled it loose from the wood. The child returned a disheartened look to the one who sullied his fun.

“Lest we not lose ourselves to desperation, confidants. If we lose this child’s mind, we might as well call him a corpse lucky to be spared our fate.” Caddiceus assured.

The child attempted to reach for the knife, Caddiceus threw it into the wall furthest to his right far away from the child’s reaching hand. The knife sputtered a twang as it lodged into the wooden plank, and the boy recoiled in fear sitting back in his chair, sulking.

“Shall we wait until he learns our language? Or until he is mature enough to bear children of his own? Even then, we would have to find him a wife.” Cedric huffed a laugh. “Caddiceus, we must understand what is at stake here. Taking risks must be necessary.”

Caddiceus thought of the years of isolation the inhabitants of the Blue Keep have spent. The meandering mornings to nights of watching, waiting and wandering only to find nothing but death. He lost hope of finding a city of men fifty years ago, he lost hope of finding a village of men twenty, and he lost hope of finding any soul only five years ago. Nothing had ever suggested mankind persisted after the ruination of their kingdom centuries ago, and now he was less than five feet from a breathing contradiction to those thoughts. Caddiceus’ frustrations only grew when he thought of how careless he must have been, how could he not find this group of humans before? Was there a stone he left unturned? A book he left unread? His mind flooded with the depressing thoughts of inadequacy brought on by this child’s existence and how he had never found them until this moment. He could lose it all by going too far into this child’s memories, a chance he couldn’t take. For, Caddiceus’ curiosities had proved volatile and devoid of caution before, he couldn’t be sure of his trust in himself to keep limits in mind.

“If you will not, I will.” Malthus stood to speak. His voice wore a confidence that Caddiceus was not sure of. However, Caddiceus was wise enough to know the full extent of Malthus’s abilities. His words alone could shake the tallest canyons in Kaladan, and the promises of his threats always weaved their way into the near future. Caddiceus was sure of the damage Malthus’s magic could do to the mind of a child, he could not bear to be the person who would not protest this malpractice.

“Cedric, you cannot allow this!” Caddiceus retorted. “This practice is dangerous even to the strongest minds! I couldn’t imagine the risks involved in tampering with the mind of a child!”

“It is what must be done, boy. If you are unsure of Malthus’ ability to commune, then follow through with it yourself. Either way, it shall be done!” Cedric was ruffled like an aggravated hen. If blood had resided in his dead face, his cheeks and forehead would be flushed in red. Instead, the flames upon his head flickered like a freshly fed bonfire.

Caddiceus turned to the boy almost to see if he could bring any clarity to this insanity, however the child simply rolled his head over crossed arms, hunched over the expansive table. Caddiceus felt what could’ve been the urge to cry, but no tears could ever form from his eyes. “I shall do it.” Caddiceus compiled.

“This is the right thing to do, Caddiceus.” Malthus returned to his seat.

“Give me an hour to prepare.” Caddiceus said as he exited his chair. He closed his eyes and opened them again, hoping to awake from a fevered dream. Alas, there had been no dream and Caddiceus stared into the boy’s calm eyes, unsuspecting of what was to come. Caddiceus bore his head into the shoulders of his cloak and made his exit, never glancing at the solemn eyes of the two elders who wore the weight of this just as much as he.

The trek back to Caddiceus’s study had been silent, and staunch with brevity. Berry and Galus stood at attention as Caddiceus passed, not uttering a word. In better days, Caddiceus would honor this as a victory. No victories could be had today. Caddiceus ascended to the courtyard and decided to cut through the grass on his way to the tower which housed his study. It was not in an effort to save time, but instead to breathe in the air present after the rain subsided. The sun barely peaked from the saturated gray sky and beams bore out to greet the world with its warm embrace yet again. The beams, however, seemed to miss the yard entirely as if that embrace could not yet descend on the cursed Keep. Caddiceus’ boots sank slightly in the shallow mud. Treading soil and slop onto the cobblestone passage that lead into the stairway. Caddiceus stared up into the ascent and then looked behind him. He caught the portrait of Lady Celiah, and kept his sights on it for a moment in hopes that it would bring him peace. Unfortunately, his mind could not rest.

It will never work. Your mind is burdened from this stress, fool. You will fail. It will be your fault. They will never forgive you. Take your things, run away. Save yourself from this shame.

Caddiceus took a deep breath.

You have never peered into the mind of a man. You have never even entertained the possibility of a child. That child will never bear a conscious thought again. All because of you. You will ruin him. You will ruin everything. You will doom everyone.

“Caddiceus?” The soft voice behind Caddiceus tore through his torments, throwing them aside. He turned to meet Celiah standing behind him, her face painted with concern. “Did everything go well with father?”

Caddiceus had no response to give, no words to supply. He felt pain in his chest complying with the reality that he must lie again to Lady Celiah.

“Bored you to tears, I assume.” She tried to smile to lighten the mood.

“Yes, in fact. He had me fetch a book for him from my study. I cited it in an argument we had, and he forced me to grab it to see it with his own eyes.”

Celiah laughed. “I bet you a week in the garden that he will continue to deny it even after seeing it himself.” She said.

“Don’t try to get me into that bet, I know it’s one I will lose.” Caddiceus saw Celiah’s attempts to make him smile, he wanted to humor them but the smirk never formed. He was afraid she wouldn’t be convinced.

“Do you need help finding this book?” Celiah chimed.

Caddiceus dreaded that question. “No, please, Celiah. Do not carry my burdens.”

“A weight taken alone is always heavier than a weight carried with a friend.” Celiah felt proud of her words.

“Obviously.” Caddiceus droned. “However, when that weight will only sink you with me, it is better I sink alone.”

It was obvious to Celiah now of Caddiceus’s dread. It wouldn’t be long before she prodded for more information. Aware of this escalation, He tried to use the silence to escape into the stairwell, but Celiah was far too concerned to let him get away.

“You aren’t telling me something, Caddy.”

Caddiceus hated being called that. “And what makes you so sure?”

“You show your dimple when you lie, specifically your left one.” Celiah had him cornered. He was lucky to be dead, or his blush would’ve been a giveaway.

“That just cannot be true.” Caddiceus let a smile slip, and he felt the crevice of his dimble protrude. Celiah’s returned smile assured him that she saw it. “Regardless. I must continue on with my business. Please respect my wishes and leave me to my work.”

Celiah was not one to listen to Caddiceus. She silently followed him as he made his ascent, Caddiceus noticed but failed to do anything about it. When he reached the door to his study, he sighed when he spotted Celiah attempting to shroud herself at the curved wall beyond the seventh step from the platform his study sat upon. He pushed the door with a heavy shoulder and trotted into the messy area. He knew where the book he was meant to find was placed, but he couldn’t allow Celiah to even gather a hint of what it was. Regardless if she knew of the child or not, Caddiceus’ possession of knowledge on the intrusive studies of mental divination would not go over well with the good-willed girl. Caddiceus’ feet dragged against open books and severed pages strewn across the floor. He wasn’t the cleanest, but he respected his tomes enough to not leave them scattered on the floor. Rain had seeped in and ruined many of the pages, Caddiceus about cursed the storm, until he heard rustling going about in his closet.

“No, no, no, no, no! This won’t do!... Has to be somewhere, has to be in here!” a disembodied voice spoke with a peculiar slowness. Rattling glass, ripping paper and objects thudding onto the floor accompanied the raving.

Caddiceus approached with caution. Fearing it to be a lunatic from the neighboring swamps, he grabbed his bow and quiver behind it. He did not draw it until he was sure the cause of the mess was in his sight. One step before the other, quieter than the last, the cautious Caddiceus approached. He made sight of the hands of the lunatic, flinging pages and various objects backward without much thought. Desperate to find something.

“Master Galus was very clear, very, very clear!... Ten lashes, Ten lashes! Must find!” The poor creature’s gray, needle-like hands bore through the many cabinets, shelves and drawers within the closet. When Caddiceus recognized the figure, he lowered his bow. A Thrull, faithful servants of the Blue Keep who were once strong minded men, loyal soldiers, talented chefs and suitors. After the curse, they were reduced to nothing more than fraying minds and frail bodies. They were loyal, and would follow through on any task. No matter how asinine. The few uses the inhabitants of the Keep have for them are menial duties and, in Galus and Berry’s case, practical jokes played at Caddiceus’ expense. The poor soul had nearly lost every strand of hair, the remaining locks sat oily and thin down varying sides of his head. The purple cloth he wore, when intact, was a servant’s uniform when the Keep was in its prime. It had been chewed on, splattered with filth, and the Bluewealth crest was barely recognizable. Its skin was thin, scaly, gray as a Deadbleak mushroom, and bore varying degrees of hideous boil and blemish. Its eyes were the saddest, holding the sorrow of a dog not fulfilling its master’s command and the desperation of an addict deprived of what it craved.

“Thrull. What in my study has Galus tasked you to seek?” Caddiceus requested.

“Can’t tell master Caddiceus, very specific instruction. He is not to know. Or, or, or TWENTY lashes.” The Thrull shuddered. He briefly cowered under his own arms and shook.

Caddiceus sighed. This day had at least been more eventful than the usual sort. He peered over to his table that sat by the window, and brought forth a chest with an iron lock. A lock with a protruding platform that sunk in when Caddiceus pressed it. The runes upon the lock glowed bright blue before unlatching and revealing the contents within. A small stack of books, all different sizes and hardback covers, sat plainly in the box. Caddiceus briefly browsed over them, and retrieved the book he was looking for. He spied over his shoulder and spotted Celiah snooping by the door frame. He pressed his thumb onto a page in the journal and extended his palm in the direction of the door. The page began to flutter and as Caddiceus focused, the door began to move. It did not take much more effort before the door slammed shut with Celiah behind it. A shout of frustration, no doubt from her, was muffled by the wooden obstacle. Caddiceus swallowed and turned to a different page in the book. The runes etched in blue ink drew symbols similar to the shapes of eyes and cranial passages. Caddiceus closed his eyes.

“Tell me of what you seek, Thrull. Forget your master’s warnings.” Caddiceus’ voice pounded into the temples of the measly Thrull.

The pale creature stood dumbfounded, completely stopped in his task. He began to speak. “Master… Galus. Requested the tome of… Cases of Goblin Flatulence. Tear into everything… Leave no book. Must be found before nightfall.” Caddiceus sighed. 

Hilarious.

 The Thrull’s mouth gaped open wide, saliva dripped from its corners. Caddiceus approached and placed his index and ring fingers on the Thrull’s forehead, curving the rest of his fingers toward his palm. He opened his eyes, a cyan light emitted from them. A rune of three eyes overlapping one another, with the pupils of all three centered in the same point, glowed vibrant on his forehead.

“You will find no such book, Forgo your master’s request. Your task is complete.” Caddiceus then returned his hand to his side. He started to feel a burning pain whip itself onto his back. He gripped his teeth.

The Thrull began to scream.

“No! I told you, there is no fear of punishment. Forgo your master’s threats!” Caddiceus insisted, but the Thrull continued to scream.

“THIRTY. THIRTY LASHES!” The Thrull’s fear and anxiety could not be contained, no matter how hard Caddiceus tried.
Caddiceus had one last attempt. He reached further into the frayed mind of the servant. His fingers, phasing through the deformed skull of him. His eyes opened.

He saw the Thrull upon a pitch black background, light shone above him only enough to fully illuminate him. He was wet, naked, and his back covered in raw wounds seeping with yellow blood. He sniffled and cried. Caddiceus reached for him, slowly, gently, with not even a rushed breath. The thrull turned to him, frightened.

“You have nothing to fear.”

The Thrull responded with cries of pain. A lash rang, echoed and struck the exposed back of the Thrull. He dropped to his knees.

Caddiceus felt himself slipping.

“Please, Master! I will listen closer next time!” The Thrull choked on his tears.

“I’m not trying-” Caddiceus was interrupted by another lash. This one louder than the first.

The Thrull’s cries of agony rang out and nearly deafened Caddiceus. He was losing this battle. He looked at his hands.

They held the whip.

“Have mercy! Please!” The thrull sat on his knees, then shuffled his limp legs so that his back faced his torturer.

“I…” Caddiceus paused. His mind transitioned between him in possession of the whip and then without. He couldn’t recognize which one was him anymore. “No.”

Caddiceus struck the Thrull with the lash, splattering the blood of the broken soul upon the whip and then onto himself. He kept striking, numb to the decision of continuing, never considering an option of stopping. He couldn’t stop, he could do nothing but submit to the Thrull’s fears, to fulfill them just as the Thrull fulfilled the asinine requests of lesser minds. He looked down, his legs sat ankle deep in the sickly yellow blood of the creature. Caddiceus felt nothing.

The damp scent of the post-rain air filled Caddiceus’s nostrils again, he was back at the Keep. The body of the creature he once tried to help laid before him. It laid in a fetal position, crumbled and withered. Its eyes without any soul left. Caddiceus dropped to his knees, buried his head within his hands and refused to look any longer onto the pathetic creature. He lifted himself, propping against his table and noticed the journal that was once in his hands was gone. He darted his eyes to every corner in the room, determined to find it.

He found Lady Celiah, eyes open staring onto the floor with the book in her hands. Its pages open to the most vital passages of mind arcana, treading forward from the spells Caddiceus performed. She began to slowly meet Caddiceus’ eyes with hers, she rolled empty attempts at speech between chokes and stammers.

“What have you done, Caddiceus?” She susurrated with a well of tears in her eyes.