The large chamber was shaped like a theater, with a circular marble stage inside of a glass dome separating Ilyak and his subject from the audience. Khoma’s throne sat on a raised platform while his guards and the most elite within Valmun filled out the seats below him. Reflective crystal screens decorated the low ceiling at various heights, sizes, and angles, some magnifying the view of the operation so closely that they could see the individual flakes that made up Xophory’s skin. Inside the dome, Ilyak held a metalic plate carved with glowing symbols that controlled the screens. There were shelves with all sorts of equipment for tearing apart a body, yet despite his medical training Xoph had never seen most of those tools in his life.
It was a surgery. They were going to operate on him.
You have to do something.
With a collar tight on his neck, thick wraps binding him to the table, and antimagic needles pinned throughout his body, Xophorys was truly trapped. It was hard to breathe, feeling as if the entire room was smothering him. His heart was thumping fiercely, his mind was racing, and waves of fear were threatening to drown him. He wanted to plead with the king and negotiate his release but what could he say? What could he offer?
An idea finally struck.
“Good King-” Xoph began, but the lights had dimmed over the audience and Ilyak interrupted him. “You do not have permission to speak, you are a servant now. If you make that mistake again you will die.” He said.
“If you try to resist your bonds, you will die.”
“If I detect the slightest hint of magic use, you will die.”
Ilyak leaned in closer, speaking each word carefully. “And if I make a mistake, you will die.”
Xoph felt a surge of emotion well up in his chest. He inhaled sharply.
You have to try. You have to at least try.
But what if- …Maybe – .. Someone will help- …
Run! On your life, ESCAPE!
He exhaled. His eyes almost glowed.
Almost. Fear gripped his throat, reason turned into rationalizing.
But they’ll kill me. They’ll-
What if-
RunFightHideWaitReasonTalkBegScreamCrySCREAM! SCREAM!!
Xophorys swallowed the panic down. He refused his hopelessness…
… And Khoma suddenly burst out laughing! His mirth was saturated with mockery. To him, the man’s inner turmoil was delicious. Those nearby could see the center gem in his crown glowing yellow as he injested Xoph’s thoughts.
Illyak turned his sneer away from his subject and affected a respectful pose for his viewers. “My great king,” he began with a reverent bow. “as this is the first ever mana-dampening operation performed on Valmun it will be my honor to explain the procedure. While complex, I will try to carefully craft my words in a way that everyone should be able to understand. With your permission, I would allow for questions.” He said, to which Khoma nodded in acquiescence.
“Uh, I have a question.” The hesitant voice came from the table. Ilyak glanced at Xophorys, his annoyance showing through his mask. Xoph spoke quickly, “If this doesn’t work, coul-” His voice choked into a gasp as the first blade sliced open his back. They had Xoph paralyzed, but he could still feel the pain. The audience could feel an overpowering sense of pleasure and anticipation from Khoma as the disenchanter began with incisions to reveal the mage’s spine. Xoph fought not to scream.
Your life is coming to an end. DO SOMETHING!
“To explain magic, I have to explain how life works,” Ilyak pretended that he didn’t see Androva roll her eyes, but the strategically-placed mirrors allowed him to see nearly everything. “Right now, my subject is alive because his body parts are all working together to keep him alive, however each individual part is meaningless. I could remove his arms and legs and yet still he would live. With the proper tools, I could sever his head from his body and keep him alive.”
“Do it.” Khoma suddenly said. The room froze.
“My lord…” Ilyak stammered, “I thought- I was under the impression that-…”
“Do it to this one, after you are done with your work on the mage.” Khoma said, pointing idly to one of his personal guards. The man shivered, but didn’t dare move without being ordered to. Khoma’s smile was full of genuine, almost-innocent excitement. “I want to see how much you can remove and still keep a person alive, later. Carry on.”
Glad for his mask, Ilyak had to close his eyes and inhale, nodding. “Of course, my lord.”
Ilyak manipulated his tablet, and the view on the screens began to zoom in on Xoph. Sayra, the only attendant allowed near the king’s throne, gasped and shuddered as the view zoomed into the mage’s skin, continued down to the cells, and went even further until all they could see were discs of energy orbitting around eachother
“Our bones, flesh, and blood are not our lifeforce, they merely maintain our form. What you are looking at right now is what every single one of us is really made of. Animals, plants, the elements, everything in the universe is made up of these tiniest motes of eternity dancing in different patterns. This is what we call Prana.”
While Sayra was mystified, Androva looked unimpressed, “So.. you’re saying that I’m made up of the same bits as a rock? As a flame? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Ilyak nodded, smiling at his work. Xophorys’s spine was fully exposed. The surgeon spoke as he cleaned his gloves and moved the sliced flesh and sinew away. “It does if you take a moment to think about it. To survive, a person needs to eat, drink, breathe, and stay warm; that is because our bodies are composed of the elements.”
The screens showed Xophorys’s inner body systems, matching Ilyak’s words as he continued,
“Winged Nation scholars in Shadarrin have adopted a new way of categorizing the general elements into more specifc names depending on their qualities. They say the elements that make up our form are called hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, and oxygen. Hydrogen, our water element, keeps our bodies moist and flexible. Oxygen, our air element, is what gives us our energy to move. Carbon, our earth element, generates our form. And Nitrogen, whos functions combine all the others, can also be used to generate fire.” Even through his pain Xophorys could feel a growing urge to debate with the other scholar, feeling that Ilyak wasn’t entire correct in his explanation. He didn’t, though. Last thing he needed was his his tongue cut out.
Ilyak picked up large needles with points so narrow that their tips couldn’t be seen by the naked eye and looked at one of the screens rather than Xoph as he began the most delicate part of the procedure. “An anspiring mage learns how to – uh – ‘feel’ that connection to the universe and manipulate the energy beyond simply keeping their body alive the way our minds do instinctively. This takes years of study and preparation as it is very easily to accidently destroy yourself when first touching on this primal power. Afterwards, the mage dedicates their life to understainding their unique expression of Prana – their mana – and becomes a spellcaster. “
“What about wildkin?” Chozun asked, his question turning all nearby heads. Whenever he spoke it always seemed to catch people off guard. Ilyak sighed, the screens showed his needles weaving strange symbols inside of Xoph’s spine. “Wildkin cannot cast spells. You would think the king’s beastmaster would know such a simple fact.” He responded dryly.
Chozun’s next question made Ilyak freeze, “Then what did Ae’dron do in the arena?”
The disenchanter honestly had no idea what that was, but he thought of a confident explanation quicker than Khoma could pick up his doubt. “The sheer volume of Ae’dron’s roar disrupted the spell that this one was casting and in his error it rebounded back into his face. A mage’s spellcasting is very volatile and can be dangerous for him if interrupted. Also…”
This is it. This is your last chance.
What would your brothers do?
Ilyak continued with his mistruths, his attention off of Xoph for only a moment. Xophorys was angry, scared, and unsure, but the disenchanter’s words had unintentionally reminded him that he still had hope. The anti-magic lights in the arena couldn’t stop him, and even with the needles dampening him, Xoph could feel his internal pool of mana. He had a chance if he acted now. He could do… something.
They would fight. They would die free.
If there is a chance, they would take it.
Take it!
He had to teleport. He would survive if he could blink away, get the needles out, and heal. If he could find Ae’dron then all the better, without the collar Xoph was sure he could convince the wildkin to help him. Xoph’s mind raced to put together a plan while he reached deep into himself. He could feel his inner energy and willed it upwards. He could feel the pressure of the disenchanting needles blocking him. Power surged against his binds. He had to be fast, this was his point of no return. He envisioned his escape, knew what he had to do – anxiety spiked through him.
He didn’t push past the anti-magic.
He didn’t want to die.
Be a man! Not a coward.
It was too risky. Too dangerous, the odds were impossible.
Not a slave!
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Not a slave
They took his freedom.
Please...
They took his magic.
No.
The procedure took hours, and the king’s attendants and guests were allowed to leave as they wished. King Khoma stayed and watched, the glowing yellow gem on his crown the lone light illuminating the darkned audience chamber. He couldn’t stop watching, but it wasn’t the actual surgery that kept him entranced (though the gore was appreciated). It was the mage’s mental breakdown. King Khoma had never experienced the exotic anguish of someone having their very identity ripped away. Freshly caught slaves usually had some hope of returning to their old way of life, but even if Xoph did somehow find freedom he would never be able to use magic again. The human’s shock, terror, and especially regret had lasted throughout the entire procedure until he eventually fell unconscious from pain.
Delicious.