#27 Ba’Kyl
Ba’Kyl was laying on the ground of a cell in the Mac’Fay’s guild hall, unarmed and bound. He was tired, weak, and he didn’t know what more he could invent so his jaillers would just kill him. If he failed his mission, he would disapoint his master and even death wouldn’t be enough to wash away the shame. He had to manage it… Now, his sins were confessed to his people and to the Theocracy. He had to die for his master. He didn’t sleep, anymore, didn’t eat either, didn’t even think. Why would he think of anything but his beloved master’s request anyway? He had taken his fear and his anguish away… he had taken his feelings away. He owed him much, and he knew tomorrow would be the end of this inner peace. His medication wouldn’t be effective anymore. He’d be imperfect. A tear ran along his cheek, ran along his jaw, and he cursed himself for not thinking of any plan B. He had believed his Zoraï prosecutors would kill him after hearing the truth but no! Obviously, his mind wasn’t good enough to take everything in consideration. He banged his head on the ground, remembering what the N’ASA researcher had told Luth…
Zorroargh had said Marauders were sneaking around in Avendale. It had to be his master and his friends. He had to get out, to meet them somewhere. He begged that they let him out so he could breathe, feinging claustrophobia. He fought his bounds like a Karavan bathing in a lake blessed by Ma’Duk, taunted his jailers to push them to violence, trying to find a weakness into this cage they kept him in. He was checking the patterns of the MacFay, testing them… One of them would be his tool. One of them would take him out. He had to calm himself, to breathe, to find a solution…
He was alone in the hall when Thalyna appeared in the room where he was. She was probably there to take a shift guarding him. He explained to her he was caged for his own safety, because he was suicidal and he had been in a bad position. He told her he was grateful to those trying to help him, told her he wasn’t worthy of it, but being between four walls was turning him even crazier than he was before. He begged her to have pity and let him walk outside, even if only for a few minutes. The Tryker was Young, but wary all the same. Luth wouldn’t imprison someone without a good reason. She told him she suspected he wanted to kill himself and that it wasn’t a good idea. He told her he didn’t even have a weapon, that he was too weak to try anything –and it was true. His waxy face, his empty eyes said enough about how bad he felt physically or mentally. She hesitated, but took him out…
Ba’Kyl bowed to her and, slowly, followed her outside…
Ba’Kyl was laying on the ground of a cell in the Mac’Fay’s guild hall, unarmed and bound. He was tired, weak, and he didn’t know what more he could invent so his jaillers would just kill him. If he failed his mission, he would disapoint his master and even death wouldn’t be enough to wash away the shame. He had to manage it… Now, his sins were confessed to his people and to the Theocracy. He had to die for his master. He didn’t sleep, anymore, didn’t eat either, didn’t even think. Why would he think of anything but his beloved master’s request anyway? He had taken his fear and his anguish away… he had taken his feelings away. He owed him much, and he knew tomorrow would be the end of this inner peace. His medication wouldn’t be effective anymore. He’d be imperfect. A tear ran along his cheek, ran along his jaw, and he cursed himself for not thinking of any plan B. He had believed his Zoraï prosecutors would kill him after hearing the truth but no! Obviously, his mind wasn’t good enough to take everything in consideration. He banged his head on the ground, remembering what the N’ASA researcher had told Luth…
Zorroargh had said Marauders were sneaking around in Avendale. It had to be his master and his friends. He had to get out, to meet them somewhere. He begged that they let him out so he could breathe, feinging claustrophobia. He fought his bounds like a Karavan bathing in a lake blessed by Ma’Duk, taunted his jailers to push them to violence, trying to find a weakness into this cage they kept him in. He was checking the patterns of the MacFay, testing them… One of them would be his tool. One of them would take him out. He had to calm himself, to breathe, to find a solution…
He was alone in the hall when Thalyna appeared in the room where he was. She was probably there to take a shift guarding him. He explained to her he was caged for his own safety, because he was suicidal and he had been in a bad position. He told her he was grateful to those trying to help him, told her he wasn’t worthy of it, but being between four walls was turning him even crazier than he was before. He begged her to have pity and let him walk outside, even if only for a few minutes. The Tryker was Young, but wary all the same. Luth wouldn’t imprison someone without a good reason. She told him she suspected he wanted to kill himself and that it wasn’t a good idea. He told her he didn’t even have a weapon, that he was too weak to try anything –and it was true. His waxy face, his empty eyes said enough about how bad he felt physically or mentally. She hesitated, but took him out…
Ba’Kyl bowed to her and, slowly, followed her outside…