17.
The walls of his new manor sometimes made him think of the fire, as it would happen to him every time he entered a building. He would amuse himself guessing how long it would take to burn it down but with no serious intentions of finding out. It would serve no purpose this time.
Instead he stayed focused on his objective: to reconnect with the Truth. But a spell that kills the caster is as useless as a melody that destroys the instrument. He had to find a way to hear the Truth without becoming deaf to all other sounds. Only then would he acquire real power. The power to shape the illusion of reality at will.
His position in society was safe. In his madness, not only had Gauran given him his family name and appointed him as his one and only legitimate heir but he had also given in to corruption. He made use of his connections and wealth to buy the prisoner’s freedom. On him, he recognized the very symptoms his wife had but unlike other victims of magical madness he had heard or seen, this one happened to have survived. He was precious to him and worth every sin he was about to commit.
The prisoner received Ortarchal Pardon. “Mitigating circumstances”, they said.
He was put in a strange platinum cell encrusted with crystals of different colors and transported to the Dyaz Estate by megaras. Not long after that, a strange plague broke in the prison, killing everyone there. Authorities blamed it on the bad conditions of the facilities after finding broken pipes and entire areas flooded.
The workers that had built the dungeon never left. Their last task was to place the heavy platinum box inside the iron cage. All of them had to help so it could be set in the right spot, in very center of the room, where all the carvings on the floor met. Then the cage was locked. Confused, they looked at Gauran for an explanation. The bars were never meant for the prisoner but for those who had built the dungeon and now they were trapped.
Everything was in place: the glyphs, the crystals, the torches, and the prisoners. Sitting on his armchair, Gauran cast the vortex of light and burned their bodies while the prisoner screamed inside the platinum box that filtered the terrible energy released upon them and only he survived, as had been the plan all along. For him it would be the first of many sessions of treatment.
With Gauran’s death, Dono Dyaz was complete. There is nothing that will link him to his former life except for the word of those who might recognize his face and even then he will still win. His word is above that of any peasant’s and his wealth and freedom were secured. If anything, he enjoys being recognized by those he hated so much before. It is a small but satisfying victory over them.
But the fact is they are unimportant, not worthy of his attention when rumors of a faceless whisper have reached his ear. They are the Faithful Ones who hide underground and they practice the forbidden faith, the one all the others fear and hate. They call it madness as well and it might very well be because it defies their precious illusion. Perhaps their god is the master sitting outside the cage, amused by the little creatures he holds in captivity. If so, then that shall be the path that will reconnect him with the Truth.
He nods, looking through the window of his new Hydlaa mansion in the winch district. The crystal light dims as the shadows of twilight create a world of their own.
“Yes”, he says smiling. “I am Daehaz”.
* * *
