Three hours after entering the detention chamber, General Thax walked in, accompanied by another man. He was indefinitely younger than the General but lacked his imposing bulk, yet his eyes held the same sharp, unnerving focus. Thax surveyed the scene—the girl was slumped against the stone wall, restrained by cold iron, her clothing torn and face bruised from a harsh interrogation. Thax flashed a wicked smile, satisfied with the grim efficiency of the room.
"She's just a child," Ryker observed quietly after a serious, prolonged examination. She had no thumbs and where they should be, only crimson blood gushed out. Some of her fingers lacked their nails. Her breathing was heavy and strained. She had obviously been through a lot.
"That's what the report said, is it not Ryker?" Thax replied, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. Ryker had expected an older, hardened suspect; the report had merely specified a female. Thax approached the girl, crouching to look at her drawn, unresponsive face.
"Has she offered anything useful?" he questioned.
"No, General. Just distress and denial," the interrogator replied leaning leisurely on the wall.Thax brutally grabbed the girl's shoulder, shaking her slightly to force her head up.
"Talk!" he commanded in a loud, sharp voice. She only shook her head weakly. Furious, he struck a heavy, open-handed blow to her cheek, and she immediately went limp, passing out from the shock and exhaustion. This had not been the first time she had passed out due to the pain, but she always got woken and it kept continuing. The torture, the agony,it kept recurring.
"Revive her," he snapped at the interrogator.
Ryker turned and immediately walked out. Jonathan, the soldier standing watch, followed him into the corridor.
"Ryker!" Jonathan called out.
"Speak, Jonathan." Ryker was frustrated; he'd only come because of the high-priority report. He had to quickly wrap up his mission and take a two hour carriage drive back. Seeing the girl's state had soured his mood completely.
"You have to stop this," Jonathan urged.
"There's nothing I can do. This is a direct order from the Elders," Ryker objected, resuming his quick pace. Immediately after reaching the kingdom,he went straight to the elders. They are the justice and ruling system of the kingdom. Whatever they decreed was law, and they had agreed to let Thax forcefully get the information needed.
"The girl is innocent," Jonathan insisted.
Ryker abruptly haulted in his tracks. I must have heard it wrong. He stood their immobilised as if transfixed to the dusty earth.
"She's innocent. I know it." Jonathan insisted after seeing no reaction.
"How do you know this?" Ryker's voice was suddenly cold and threatening.
"I'm not saying she didn't cross the forbidden boundary." He tried explaining. Ryker slowly turned and Jonathan was taken back by his terrifying expression. They both knew where he was going with this.
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying she won't admit to any plot because she can't," Jonathan revealed. "She has amnesia. She's endured that much pain and still hasn't given them a usable name or detail. She doesn't even remember who she is. I believe she's being used as a convenient scapegoat."
Ryker stared at him, his face grim. "Why are you telling me this?" He knew why but he still asked.
"Because... you're the only one positioned to help her."
"The Elders have already signed the warrant..." He brushed it off quickly.
"There are individuals with influence that supersedes even the Elders." Jonathan blurted.
Ryker's look became intensely serious. "You know the risk of suggesting that."
"Have I ever misled you before?" Jonathan tried a different approach, Ryker had to believe him. Had to!
"Yes." He answered crossing his arms.
"But have I ever been wrong about a situation this crucial?"
Ryker didn't answer. After a prolonged silence Ryker finally spoke again,in a low voice this time.
"Hope she holds out until I can return," Ryker walked away from the corridor, the silence of the polished stone hallway feeling more oppressive than the shouting he'd just witnessed. Jonathan's words echoed in his mind, sharp and insistent: "She has amnesia... a convenient scapegoat."
He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing away the phantom sensation of the dungeon's damp, cold air. The Elders' orders were absolute. They ruled by fear and tradition, and their demand for an immediate confession was not just about security; it was about maintaining an image of flawless authority. Disobeying them, or even suggesting they were wrong, was professional suicide. It was more than that—it was likely treason.
Treason.
He pictured General Thax's face, the cruel satisfaction in his eyes as he abused the girl. Thax wouldn't hesitate to crush anyone who interfered with his mandates. If Ryker moved against the General, he would have to do so with surgical precision, leaving no trace.
Yet, Ryker was an operative, not a brute. He believed in justice, however warped the system sometimes made it. The thought of the little girl—innocent, with her mind wiped clean by some unknown trauma—being sacrificed to protect the reputation of a powerful cabal made his stomach turn.
Jonathan had been clear: "There are people more powerful than the Elders." He had meant the Crown. The King and Queen, secluded in the Royal Spire, technically held ultimate authority, though the Elders typically managed day-to-day governance and security. To approach them was to bypass the entire established political structure—a move that could result in his execution if the Elders discovered it.
Ryker pulled his heavily encrypted communicator from his jacket. He had to assume Thax was already watching him. He couldn't risk a direct call. Instead, he pulled up an old, rarely used protocol: the 'Silent Oath' channel, reserved only for dire emergencies to reach the Royal Guards' highest-ranking Captain. I hope I don't regret this. He worriedly thought before taking a deep breath and beginning.He quickly typed a message, using the pre-approved, archaic code phrase, followed by three critical keywords:
Protocol Azimuth: Barrier Breach, Elder Override, Child Subject.
He hit send. It was a digital whisper that would land directly on the private terminal of Captain Emrys, the Queen's personal head of security. If Captain Emrys chose to ignore it, Ryker was doomed. If he responded, Ryker was committed to a path of treason against the Elders.
A minute stretched into an eternity. Ryker felt sweat prickling his temples.
Ping.
A reply flashed across the screen:
Emrys. Spire Gate 3. Midnight. Come alone. Fail to be there, and this conversation never happened.
Ryker quickly wiped the message thread clean. He checked his timepiece. He had five hours. Enough time to gather the minimum proof he needed, but far too little to establish a proper alibi. He had to move with the speed of a ghost or he, the girl and Jonathan will die.