T A L O N
The sound of static broke him from the dread trance that had consumed his attention. When it settled, he heard the dull thud of something being slammed against a slab of meat. The ensuing grunts, followed by the growl and the feathers of his wings stood on end. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. These sounds, followed by the words of the Archbishop and he was sprinting forward. The jarring clang of chains pulling him back filled the entirety of the chamber as a white hot anger filled him. His gaze zeroed in on the human. He growled low in his chest. Silver-white fire ignited in his eyes as he strained against the bindings holding him in this dark prison.
He felt the markings upon his skin begin burning furiously. He could feel the acid poison of their power sinking into his muscles. He let out a roar of anger and defiance as the chains began pulling him back. Every muscle in his body bulged as he fought against their pull. The creaking squeal of metal straining as the limits of its strength were tested filled the air and the cathedral rumbled with the force of his anger. The fog that pressed down upon his mind was met with a ferocious storm of mental resistance that pushed back against the haze attempting to dampen his will.
They were torturing him.
He cared nothing for their threats. He cared nothing for the pain they were going to inflict upon his own body. He cared nothing for the hours, days, weeks, perhaps even months of torture that they were going to visit upon his own mind, body and soul.
But they were torturing him.
For a moment, as the walls and chamber of the cathedral shook under the weight of the caged demigod’s fury, it seemed as though he very well might break free. For a moment.
Slowly, he was pulled back from the edge of the dark ritual circle that formed the bars of his aethereal cage. The entire chamber was suddenly illuminated in a potent arcane light and he was pulled to his knees, arms yanked to the floor. He was left there on the ground, panting heavily. Steam rolled off of his body. He looked up as the Archbishop turned to walk away.
“The day I fall…” Breathless, he made his oath. Fire still burned softly in his irises, causing the world to become a plane of stark black and white. “...will be the day you see your final sunrise.”
He grimaced as he could feel his mind slipping. Gritting his teeth he fought it off for as long as he could until he had not the strength to fight it any longer. He felt himself grow numb and a strange out-of-body haze overtook him. As he felt the curtain of fogginess blanket his thoughts, he made a mental note.
Day one.
