Chapter 68: Gaelith Alloraine

  [Time Plane Memory #4]

  Gaelith sat on the stone floor of a dark, enclosed space.

  A faint, unnatural screeching echoed around him – an eerie sound. One that would make anyone’s skin crawl.

  His jaw clenched.

  “Shut the hell up, already, you fiend!” he snapped at the air, and for a moment, the sound stopped. But judging by his face expression, he knew it wouldn’t last.

  Gaelith wasn’t clad in his legendary knightly armor. Instead, he was wearing simple, tattered brown robes – the kind a prisoner might wear.

  And that’s exactly what he was - a prisoner.

  The room around him wasn’t just any chamber – it was a cell. A prison cell, to be precise. Thick metallic bars sealed him inside.

  The room had no windows, nor door. Just a single stone platform to serve as a bed, and in the corner, a wooden chamber pot – his only means of relieving himself.

  The only light came from a single, flickering oil lamp standing on a wooden table just outside the bars.

  Gaelith rubbed his temples slowly, frustration mounting. Then, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

  Outside the bars, a door swung open abruptly, slipping more light into the dim cell.

  A man stepped inside – wearing a suit of armor, his helm tucked under his arm.

  A fellow knight.

  He closed the door behind him, now barely lit by the oil lamp on the table.

  Gaelith sprang to his feet, gripping the cold metal bars, relief flashing across his face.

  “Devon!” He called. “Please tell me you bring good news!”

  Devon sighed deeply, leaving the pleasantries. “I’m trying, my friend, but it’s not that simple. I wish I could’ve done more – worked faster – but I’m bound by all the damn bureaucracy.”

  Gaelith’s grip on the bars tightened, his expression strained. “But there’s new evidence! The case needs to be reopened!”

  Devon nodded. “I know. But the court is stalling. Arcadius likely caught wind of the new evidence and bribed them. Also, need I remind you that rarely in the history of Tepan has the Grand Court overturned a verdict once the sentence was given – especially not a death sentence.” Then, he hesitated. “And…there’s also what you said after your conviction.”

  Gaelith lowered his gaze, exhaling heavily. “I know…I overreacted…”

  “Overreacted?” Devon scoffed. “Gaelith, you stood in that courtroom and swore terrors and rot upon Tepan’s land and people. You basically convinced them they made the right decision.”

  Gaelith’s jaw tightened. “I was furious! They sentenced me to die for a crime I didn’t commit. I – “

  The eerie screeching returned, cutting him off.

  Devon’s hand went to his blade instantly. “What the hell was that? It sounds like a monster.”

  “No.” Gaelith replied quickly. “It’s nothing. Just a rat.”

  He turned toward the shadows, his voice rising. “A rat that needs to shut up!”

  The screeching ceased again.

  Devon watched him warily but let it go.

  “Is there any word from General Kaelstrife?” Gaelith changed the subject.

  Devon’s face soured, and he shook his head. “I heard a rumor he left the battlefield in the north and is making his way back to the capital – but I can’t confirm it, unfortunately.”

  Gaelith sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Where do we stand right now? How long until they review the new evidence? I only have three days until the execution.”

  Devon straightened, placing a hand over his heart. “I swear to you, my friend, I will do everything in my power to make them listen before that.” Then, after a short pause, he added. “Until then, don’t lose hope. Warden Nichols told me they’re treating you well despite everything.”

  “The perks of being an ex-knight…” Gaelith said quietly, shaking his head, his mind elsewhere.

  “I need to go now.” Devon said, slipping his helm back on. “But I promise – I’ll keep fighting for you. See you soon.”

  “Thank you, Devon.” Gaelith whispered.

  Then, the knight left, leaving Gaelith alone again.

  Well…almost alone.

  The screeching sound returned, clawing at his nerves.

  Gaelith’s hands curled into fists. “Why won’t you shut up already?!”

  He moved toward the sound, but before he could take another step the door opened again.

  A man in an official uniform stepped in, standing just outside the bars. Judging by his attire he was likely the warden.

  “Alloraine, another visitor for you.”

  Gaelith blinked in confusion. “Another?”

  The warden smirked, shaking his head. “I don’t usually allow prisoners two visitors a day – let alone back-to-back – but the lady is lovely.”

  Gaelith’s brows furrowed. “A lady?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “I don’t know any woman well enough for them to visit me.”

  The Warden chuckled.

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Alloraine.” His tone was amused. “You’re quite the celebrity. Definitely had your share of admirers.” He leaned casually against the bars. “Hell, maybe they fawn over you even now. From charming knight to charming criminal.”

  Gaelith ignored his banter. “The woman – how did she introduce herself?”

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  The warden tilted his head. “She called herself Jane. She said she had information that could help your case.”

  Gaelith rushed to the bars quickly. “Then let her in. Please.”

  The Warden laughed, shaking his head at Gaelith’s urgency. “My, my, don’t get too excited. I’m letting her in.”

  The warden left, and Gaelith began pacing around his cell, likely trying to recall a Jane, but his expression remained puzzled.

  When the door opened again, he turned quickly.

  But just as his gaze landed on the visitor, the oil lamp went out, and darkness swallowed the room.

  A soft, fragile voice rose from the shadows. “Forgive me, Sir Alloraine, but I prefer to keep my identity hidden.”

  Gaelith’s eyes narrowed, straining to see any trace of her silhouette – but the darkness was too heavy.

  Realizing it was pointless, he cut straight to the chase.

  “I’m not a knight anymore.” His voice was firm, but also hurt. “They stripped me off my title. Call me Gaelith.” He exhaled. “The warden said you had information that could help clear my name. Is that true?”

  “Yes.” She replied, pausing for a moment before she continued. “It’s about King Edmund’s cousin – Arcadius.”

  Gaelith tensed instantly, his voice becoming urgent. “Yes. The snake! Please, tell me what you know!”

  “I will.” The woman took a deep breath, her voice calm. “Even before your arrest, my men were already keeping a close eye on Arcadius. I feared he was planning something big, but I failed to see the whole picture.” She paused. “Quite honestly, I still don’t. And I couldn’t understand how you, of all people, fit into it.”

  Gaelith wasted no time. “Did your men find anything useful?”

  “They did.” She replied. “Arcadius was meeting a lot with a certain woman. A peculiar one. It took me quite some time to learn who she really was.” Her voice lowered slightly, almost teasing. “Do you want to know her identity, Sir Alloraine?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Her name is Lysandra. She is the High Priestess of the Axul.”

  Gaelith’s entire body seemed to stiffen and his face turned white. “That’s impossible...The Axul vanished two years ago.”

  “Please, Sir Alloraine, you don’t truly believe that, do you?”

  Gaelith’s gaze dropped to the floor, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “From your reaction, I can tell you’ve heard of her.” The woman noted.

  “Yeah…yeah.” Gaelith rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve dealt with the Axul before. I know some things about them.”

  The woman released a faint sound – something close to a suppressed chuckle – before continuing. “The Axul are hiding. Where? No one knows. But more importantly – what do they want with Arcadius?”

  Gaelith resumed pacing, this time slower. “I don’t know.”

  “Something tells me you do, Sir Alloraine.” Her voice remained gentle, but her words felt like knives. “Or else why would Arcadius go so far as to frame you specifically?”

  Gaelith rubbed his chin, but remained silent, his eyes darting around as if he was connecting a grand puzzle in his mind.

  “I don’t know…” He muttered again.

  “But you do.” The woman pressed. She stepped closer, the darkness still hiding her features. “You can’t expect my help while lying to me, Sir Knight.”

  Gaelith sighed heavily, turning his back to her. “I have nothing to tell you. Please leave me.”

  The woman chuckled. “Secretive. I like that.” She paused. “But…I already know quite a lot about you, Sir Alloraine. About your past, and why it made Arcadius – and the Axul – target you.”

  “Leave me.” Gaelith repeated, his voice growing quiet.

  But she didn’t stop. She continued speaking, revealing everything she knew – his knightly duties. His fights on the battlefield as a soldier. His early days in the capital. How he survived on the streets. How he had clawed his way up alongside his friend – the future General.

  Step by step, she progressed further down his life, chronologically moving to the past.

  When she reached his childhood, Gaelith’s jaw clenched, and he raised his hands to his ears as if to block her words.

  The screeching sound returned, and together it all felt almost too overwhelming.

  Then, amidst the storm of noise, a different voice reached his ears – one he knew well. Too well.

  “Face me, child.”

  Gaelith froze. Slowly, he turned around.

  The oil lamp flickered back to life, the dim light illuminating the face of his visitor.

  Lysandra.

  “Surprise!" She exclaimed, grinning. "I told you I’d visit you again and again. It took me longer than I would have liked, but here I am – holding true to my promise.”

  Gaelith stared at her, in a state of complete shock and disbelief.

  “What are you doing here?” His voice was a whisper, almost like he didn’t believe this was real.

  “What I always wanted, Noctyra.” She said, letting the name linger in the air as if testing him. “To bring you back home, so you can fulfill your role. The time for the Destroyer to descend is nearly upon us.”

  “No, no, no.” Gaelith shook his head violently, stepping back. “I’m not going anywhere. And don’t call me that. I am not Noctyra. My name is Gaelith Alloraine!”

  Lysandra laughed bitterly, her finger curling around the prison bars. “You had your share of adventures, child. See where they brought you? Behind bars. It's almost like you were destined to be a prisoner. Either by me, or by them.”

  “Because of you!” Gaelith snapped. “You had something to do with this!”

  Lysandra tilted her head, her grin widening. “Of course I did.” She laughed, clearly satisfied with herself. “I found you years ago. It wasn’t hard considering your meteoric rise to stardom. But I didn’t make the first move. You grew too strong, and I wanted to avoid direct confrontation.”

  She sighed theatrically. “And then came along Arcadius…A power-hungry fool, that one. I promised him some favors with our Axul magic, and he was willing to do whatever I asked in return – even framing you.

  “But even then, there was no magic involved in your conviction, Noctyra. The people of this kingdom – the same ones you always wished to live among, the same ones who lifted you up, made you a knight, celebrated you as a hero – “ she paused. “Just as quickly, they tore you down. Stripped you of your title. Leveled you to dust." She gestured lazily around them. "And threw you in this cell with an impending execution looming over your neck."

  “And still, I’d prefer this to going anywhere with you.” Gaelith replied firmly.

  Lysandra arched a brow, amused. “Is that why you cursed them all after you were sentenced?” She let out a mocking laugh. “I was in the crowd, you know? You put on quite the performance.”

  Gaelith’s guilt was evident. “I’m not proud of what I said.”

  “Oh, but it was a sight to behold!” Lysandra sighed dramatically, enjoying every moment. “I had hoped the years would have made you wiser, but you’re still the same child you were back then – refusing to see the world for what it is.”

  “Despite everything, this world is beautiful. Life in it is beautiful.” He replied calmly. “But you wouldn’t understand.”

  She gripped the bars tighter, growing angrier for a moment before quickly calming down and changing the subject.

  “They think they shut down your System with all that Magibane they’d put in your drinking water. But they don’t know you don't even have one. They don't know you’re Axul. They don’t know you could escape at any moment – break these bars with your bare hands.” She looked straight into his eyes. “Tell me, Noctyra…why didn’t you escape already?”

  Gaelith held her gaze, his voice low. “You wouldn’t understand.” He repeated, shaking his head and turning away. “When I heard the Axul had vanished, I knew it was nonsense…but some part of me wanted to believe it was true. I was a fool to let my guard down.” His shoulders stiffened. “Now leave. I will never come with you. My answer remains the same.”

  Lysandra suddenly laughed. “I gave you a chance, Noctyra.”

  Gaelith’s brows furrowed. “A chance for what?”

  “A chance to stay alive.” She replied, grinning. “You see, I’ve figured out a way to make you the Destroyer’s vessel without actually needing you alive.”

  Gaelith’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Lysandra nodded, delighted with his reaction.

  “In three days, you’ll be executed.” She tilted her head playfully. “And your body? It’ll be sent straight to me with a beautiful ribbon on top - like a birthday present. Right into the new temple – or as the common folk call it now – the Abandoned Axul Tomb of Moonvale.”

  She laughed again, watching Gaelith’s expression turn to horror.

  She continued. “You’re special, Noctyra. Your body is special. You don’t have to be alive to host the Destroyer.”

  She turned to leave, her voice still filled with amusement. “So, we’ll meet again in a few days, and you will complete your destiny – in death. A few years later than intended – but better late than never, I suppose.”

  Gaelith stood frozen, his breath shallow, unsteady.

  “No, no, no…” He whispered.

  Just as Lysandra reached the door, she spoke again – almost as an afterthought.

  “Oh, and one last thing.” She turned slightly, her smile widening. “Your ability to create life…it’s grown, hasn’t it?” She paused for a moment. “Tell me, Noctyra…Did you draw the thing that sits in the corner of your cell or was it born from your deepest thoughts and desires for revenge?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer.

  She was gone.

  Gaelith swallowed hard. Slowly, he turned toward the corner of the cell where something writhed – something shorter than his knees.

  It shifted unnaturally, its body made of shadows, appendages twisting where legs should be. And a row of sharp, jagged teeth formed where its face should have been.

  And then – it screeched again. A high-pitched sound – like a baby’s cry. Like something just beginning to exist.

  Something he created.

  Something Dark.

  His other self.

  [Time Plane Memory #4 – END]

  desperately eager to reach because the vision of it just wouldn’t leave me alone. It needed to be put down on (digital) paper but it was so far down the line, I had to wait...

  two biggest revelations in the story! (The other one is just around the corner as well)

  and its execution.

  Did you see it coming?