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He couldn’t get used to it. Normally a pain like this, for so long, one simply grew numb to it. You had to break it up so they could never get used to anything. He’d never had access to a Power Word as a shadowhand, though. It seemed that that tossed the full book out the window.
He knew he could end the spell -- that all he had to do was push past it. He was just- so very tired.
It went on forever.
Until it didn’t. Voices were impossible to decipher past the fading echoes of his own screams ringing in his ears. A touch to his face had him flinching. There was a soothing noise, something less than speech. He cracked open an eye and almost flinched again. Still by the book then. The scourger wearing Caleb’s face carefully wiped tears from Essek’s cheeks.
Wear the target down then use a face they thought they could trust to ask the questions. Half-broken they wouldn’t second guess what they thought was an ally.
He let his eyes slip closed again. They hadn’t gotten a sound out of him until they’d used a Power Word, they would get nothing else without it.
“Schatz,” The scourger whispered with such heartbreaking relief. He was good at his job; any other situation Essek would’ve believed it Caleb.
“Essek!” Jester's voice was almost shrill. Couldn’t they just skip this part? It hurt in a different way. His friends didn’t belong here. Now he would second guess them every time he saw them once he was free of this place.
If he ever got free.
Healing washed over him, and somehow they’d even matched how Jester’s magic seemed to bubble up.
“Essek, we’re here! Are you alright? Say something!”
“Jester,” Caleb’s voice was calm. A little sad. “He has no way of trusting it’s really us.”
That was unusual.
Essek cracked tired eyes open again. Scourger-Caleb was making quick work of the straps holding Essek to the table.
“Veth, can you do something about this collar?”
It had to be a lie. All of it. It couldn’t be real because if he thought it was real and it turned out to not be, it might just break him.
Not-Caleb’s hand was on his cheek, guiding his gaze back to him.
“You don’t need to say a word, schatz. We will ask nothing of you.”
Essek let his eyes drift shut again. Just get it over with, he wanted to shout.
“Schatz. I know you will hate this part, but we could think of no better way to smuggle you. Please don’t fight me.”
He could feel the spell wrap around him, so very like Caleb’s magic. For a moment he thought to resist it, just to be contrary, but before he could make up his mind the spell curled around him and all thoughts slipped from his mind.
Polymorph, he realized at the last moment. Ah well. At least he couldn’t talk as an animal. Fear at the loss of his intellect warred with bone-deep exhaustion. He hated being polymorphed.
Their Jester even smelled right, he realized a moment later as Caleb passed him to her. Something small. A cat? Seemed to fit.
Jester held him as the rest of the Nein filtered in, carrying the scent of blood. Caleb was knelt on the floor drawing something. Then there was a swooping feeling that had his fur standing on end, and they weren’t in the dungeon anymore.
They were in Rohsona.
It took a moment for the realization to sink in. Familiarity morphed into an indescribable terror. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t remember why, but he knew that much.
He tried to bolt, made it out of Jester’s arms, but a hand caught him by the scruff before he could even hit the floor. Beau.
Except it couldn’t be them. His friends would never take him here. Caleb. Jester. Please, someone. Beau passed him over to the Caleb, and for all he knew it couldn’t be him, he smelled right. The scourger had a hand fisted in his scruff as he cradled him; there was no second chance of escape. Taking what meager comfort he could, he buried his face in the crook of the scourger’s arm and pretended for a moment it really was Caleb holding him.
The city smells and sounds were so painfully familiar. He just wanted to go home to Caleb’s study. To wake up. It was so much harder to seperate from the fear as an animal. To top it all off, though, he missed Rohsona. It had been his home for his first century and the familiarity taunted him. Something stable. Not home, though. Never again.
The gentle tinkling of chimes was familiar, too, though it was a much newer memory. The Xhorhaus. Not home, but something close to it. He ignored the voices around him, kept his face smooshed into the crook of the scourger’s elbow.
Then the full weight of where he was sunk in. He was in the heart of the place he’d betrayed with no spells to hide or escape. Oh. He was an elf again.
“Breathe, liebling.” Caleb’s voice was pitched low. The room was dim -- not like the painful bright light of the dungeon. He was seated on the edge of a bed. The scourger was still between him and the exit.
Essek slid off the edge of the bed to sit hard on the floor. He dropped his head between his knees and fought off the wave of nausea. The hand on the back of his neck shouldn’t’ve been a comfort -- it wasn’t really Caleb after all. The hand on the bare skin of his neck -- he hadn’t even noticed when Veth had gotten the anti-magic collar off.
He raised a shaky hand to go through the motions of the spell he’d studied nearly every morning. Halfway though, though, he stilled -- was it a twelve degree angle or a thirteen? A hand caught his trembling one where it hung stalled in the air. Caleb was tugging the book out of the holster under his arm.
“What do you need?”
Essek opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He couldn’t; he’d promised himself. Caleb’s frown deepened, and he flipped through the spell book.
“This?” He set the book on the floor between them, open to Detect Magic.
Oh. Of course that was the angle.
The familiar rush of magic through his veins was like a balm. The glow that layered over his vision was moreso.
Caleb’s rings, amulet, and dagger lit with the familiar double image of magic. Nothing else. No illusions.
“Caleb?” Gods his voice was a wreck, was that really him?
“I’m here, schatz. You’re out.”
Caleb -- Caleb -- Slipped the book out of the way and pressed against his side.
Essek’s voice cracked over the next jumble of words until he just gave up. Instead, he flung his arms around Caleb’s shoulders and buried his face against his neck to hide the tears.
“I’m here."