"AHHH!"
The scream tore out of Gabriel before he could stop it.
"Why are you doing this?" he shouted, his voice breaking as it echoed around the room.
A knife hovered inches from his left leg, its tip steady and deliberate.
His right leg throbbed violently where a blade had already pierced it, pain pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Blood soaked into the fabric, warmth spreading while his mind scrambled to catch up.
He couldn't remember how he had been taken, only the moment of waking chained to the chair, the stink of sweat and piss in the air.
The man standing in front of him was unremarkable at first glance. Average height. Lean build. No older than thirty. A thick beard hid most of his jaw, and a single scar cut from his eyebrow down to his lip.
He was smiling.
"Tell me what you heard," the man said, his voice low and rough. "Tell me what you saw."
The knife dipped slightly, pressing just enough to promise more.
"Tell me now," he continued, leaning closer, "or you won't see or hear again."
Panic surged through Gabriel. He threw his weight forward, muscles screaming as he tried to stand, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.
The iron shackles bit hard into his wrists, snapping him back. The chains rattled as his strength burned out, leaving him slumped and gasping, pain roaring louder than his thoughts.
The man laughed softly.
Finally accepting how trapped he was, Gabriel slumped back in the chair, his strength spent.
"I don't know what you want," he said, voice cracking. "I've seen a lot of things. I've heard a lot of things."
The bearded man's grip tightened around the knife.
Without warning, he hurled it.
The blow landed hard, the impact knocking Gabriel and the chair backward in a crash of metal and wood. Pain flared as he hit the floor, the breath torn from his lungs while the chains rattled violently around him.
The man turned and lifted two fingers.
"Get him up."
His companion rose from the corner where he had been sitting in silence the entire time, watching with an empty, detached stare. He had shown no reaction as a fifteen-year-old boy screamed and bled at his feet.
He crossed the room in slow strides and stopped over Gabriel, his shadow swallowing him whole. Reaching down, he seized the chair and hauled it upright in one motion, dragging the child with it until Gabriel was once again forced to sit, trembling and gasping for air.
Gabriel spat, a thick smear of blood hitting the floor at his feet. He tried to speak, to ask why, but only a wet, broken sound escaped his throat. His jaw refused to move.
It was broken.
"Pull his head back," the bearded man said calmly. "Open his mouth."
Gabriel's body began to shake as his eyes drifted to the man who had watched everything in silence. He hadn't noticed when he'd been lifted, but seeing him properly now stole what breath he had left.
The man stood close to two and a half metres tall. His frame was massive, shoulders broad as stone, limbs thick with dense muscle that looked more carved than grown. The size was wrong, almost unreal, yet his face did not match it.
Blond hair fell loosely around features that were young, almost gentle, with soft eyes that showed neither cruelty nor mercy.
Just absence.
A thought sparked in Gabriel's mind before fear could stop it, forcing its way out through shattered bone and blood.
"O-Ogre," he mumbled, the word slurred and weak.
The bearded man paused.
"Ogres are extinct," the words barely louder than a murmur.
The words barely reached Gabriel as the giant's hand closed around his jaw.
The giant's hand came down on Gabriel's forehead, palm broad enough to cover it completely. With a sharp pull, he wrenched Gabriel's head back. The other hand followed immediately, forcing its way into Gabriel's mouth and prying it open.
Snap.
Pain exploded across Gabriel's face. He screamed, but the sound came out broken, trapped behind shattered bone and the hand still lodged between his teeth.
The bearded man laughed.
"They don't like being called ogres," he said, amusement thick in his voice. "They're giants."
He stepped closer. The knife was gone. In its place, he held a small glass bottle, no larger than a thumb, filled with an emerald-green liquid.
He poured.
The liquid flooded Gabriel's mouth, sliding over his tongue and down his throat before he could choke it back. As the last drops emptied, the giant's hand shifted, clamping under Gabriel's jaw and forcing it shut.
Pain flared again, radiating up into his temples until his vision blurred.
"Swallow."
The command came as a low growl from the giant's chest, deep enough to vibrate through the floor.
As Gabriel forced himself to swallow, the giant released him and turned away, returning to the corner of the room. He sat down heavily, posture unchanged, his face settling back into the same empty stillness, as if nothing of note had occurred.
Gabriel shook uncontrollably, pain still rippling through his skull, when something shifted.
Warmth spread through his body, slow and deliberate, washing over broken bone and torn flesh. The agony receded, dulled, then vanished entirely. It felt unreal, like being wrapped in light, like the stories of standing in the presence of one of the seven Archangels still said to walk the world.
His breathing steadied.
His thoughts softened.
Gabriel closed his eyes, and for a single, fragile moment, there was only peace.
Smack.
The blow snapped his head sideways, ripping the moment apart.
It wasn't as hard as before.
"Wake up," the dirty man barked.
Gabriel sucked in a breath and stared at him. "What did you just give me?" he demanded, his voice stronger than it had any right to be.
"A secret," the man replied, grinning. "Now I'm going to ask you one more time. What did you see, and what did you hear? Think carefully, because this knife is going into your neck if you don't answer."
Gabriel's eyes flicked to the man's hands.
Empty.
His stomach twisted.
Where had the knife gone?
He watched closely, heart pounding, and then the blade was there, resting casually in the man's grip as if it had never left.
Gabriel's breath caught.
He was familiar with magic. He was training to become a Paladin, and the Order required discipline, study, and controlled spellwork. But this was different. There had been no incantation. No gesture.
A wordless cast.
The thought surfaced and vanished just as quickly.
Smack.
Another sharp strike snapped his head to the side, dragging him back into the room, into the chains, into the pain waiting just beneath the surface.
"Answer me. Now."
The man's voice had changed. His amusement was gone, replaced by something hard and impatient. Gabriel watched as the man's green eyes darkened, the colour bleeding into a deep ruby red.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The basement door shook as it was struck from the other side.
"Sir," a voice called through the wood, urgent. "The Commander wants to see you."
The giant rose immediately, towering as he stood, silent and obedient.
"I'm busy," the dirty man snapped back. "The kid's breaking."
There was a pause.
"Sir," the voice said again, firmer now, "the Commander is sending Ariya to finish the questioning. He has an urgent task for you and Dannis."
The man clicked his tongue in irritation and turned away from Gabriel, striding toward the door. Just before reaching it, he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder.
"You should've told me, kid."
Then he was gone.
The giant remained where he was, unmoving, his gaze fixed on Gabriel.
Something had changed.
The blank emptiness in his face was gone, replaced by an expression Gabriel couldn't name. It might have been pity. It might have been fear. The two felt disturbingly close.
Slowly, the giant inclined his head. He lifted his hand and pressed his index and middle fingers to his chest, tapping twice over his heart.
Gabriel recognised the gesture.
Those who followed the Archangels used it as greeting and farewell when meeting others of the faith. It also carried another meaning. Respect for the dead.
"Dannis, let's go," the man called from beyond the room.
The giant straightened.
Gabriel's thoughts began to spiral. Why had his expression changed? Why pity? Why fear? And fear of what?
Who is coming?
Dannis turned and began walking toward the door, each step heavy enough to vibrate through the stone floor. The door opened, then shut behind him with a dull, final sound.
Silence settled over the basement.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Light footsteps approached from somewhere beyond the walls.
Then came the sound of humming.
Soft. Measured. Almost gentle.
As the footsteps drew closer, the humming grew clearer, filling the space with a calm that felt out of place. The tension in Gabriel's chest eased despite himself, his breathing slowing as the sound wrapped around him.
Whoever was coming, their presence carried something different.
The shaking stopped.
Gabriel realised, distantly, that he was no longer afraid.
The tapping and the humming reached the other side of the door and ceased at once. The silence held for a single breath.
Then the door opened.
A young woman stepped inside, no older than twenty. She was slight, no taller than Gabriel himself, with long hair as dark as ink and eyes that glowed an unnatural shade of violet in the dim light. She carried a jug in one hand and a cup in the other, her posture relaxed, unhurried.
Gabriel blinked.
Then blinked again.
For a moment, he was certain he was dreaming. He had never seen anyone so striking, her presence sharp and gentle all at once, like something that didn't belong in a place like this.
She smiled at him.
"My name is Ariya," she said softly. "I hope you don't mind, but I'll be asking you some questions."
Gabriel stared, struggling to reconcile what he was seeing. From the reactions of Dannis and the dirty man, he had expected something monstrous to step through the door. Something cruel.
Not this.
"Yes," he managed.
His voice sounded distant to his own ears.
"First," Ariya asked, tilting her head slightly, "would you like some water?"
Only then did he notice the burning dryness in his throat, the tight ache that made swallowing painful.
"Yes," Gabriel said quickly, the word tumbling out before she had finished speaking.
She poured water from the jug into the cup and lifted it to his lips, tipping it carefully so he could drink. The cool liquid slid down his throat, easing the ache as she leaned closer.
"Do you know why you're here?" she whispered near his ear.
She stepped behind him as she spoke.
"No," Gabriel answered, breath hitching. The chains clinked softly as his hands trembled against them.
"That's alright," Ariya said calmly.
Metal shifted.
She unlocked the shackles, one by one.
"I need you to remain seated while we talk," she continued, moving back around to stand no more than two feet in front of him.
The thought came unbidden.
I can run. The door is open. She's alone. My hands are free.
The idea barely finished forming before his body betrayed him.
He froze.
His muscles locked, refusing every command he screamed at them to follow. Panic flared as he looked up at Ariya.
Her eyes were no longer violet.
They had darkened to a deep, burning red.
Her skin had gone pale, veins standing out sharply beneath her eyes and tracing down her cheeks. Her hair lifted and spread outward as if caught in an unseen current. She extended one arm and pressed her palm flat against his chest.
"This is for your own good," she hissed.
Her voice shifted, becoming hollow and distant, layered with something unnatural. It reminded Gabriel of the wraiths he had encountered on hunts with his teachers.
Boom.
The force hurled him backward into the wall, driving the air from his lungs. Stone cracked beneath the impact.
Chains lashed out from the shadows on either side of the basement, wrapping around his arms and snapping tight, stretching them wide until his shoulders screamed in protest.
Gabriel coughed violently, blood spraying across the floor as pain tore through his chest.
He stared at Ariya.
She stood ten metres away.
He blinked.
She was suddenly right in front of him.
Ariya smiled, two short swords already in her hands. Without hesitation, she drove them forward in a single, precise motion, one blade aimed at each of Gabriel's hands.
"AHHHH!" Gabriel screamed out.
There was a boom from the swords impaling Gabriel's hands into the brick walls of the basement. She had used such force that it felt like the wall was going to come down.
She ripped the long tunic he was wearing open and placed her child-like hand outstretched in the centre of his chest.
Ariya muttered something. Gabriel couldn't make out. Due to the pain, his mind went blank. The words coming from her mouth sounded distant, muffled, like he was underwater.
A red smoke enveloped his chest.
The air felt thick.
This wasn't any magic he had seen before or even the divine magic he had heard about. This was sinister magic. Forbidden magic.