Amity and Enmity

Chapter 68

Roughly 300 Years Ago

The jail cell clanged and creaked open, banging against the stone wall. Calixte jolted awake, his eyes squinting through the darkness, then blinded him by the sudden burst of light.

King Osmond stood at the jail cell entrance with a lit torch in his hand that cast an orange glow on his golden mask, one of the sides of his face swallowed in shadow.

"I suppose you are wondering where you are, Barbel," the king purred as he placed the burning torch in a holder on the wall.

Calixte looked around. "This was not the cell I was in before I fell asleep."

"Well done, Barbel," King Osmond made a solitary clap. "We had you moved to somewhere secret, where very few people know of its existence. For we are going to send you someplace special."

Retreating to the wall, Calixte's shackles clanked and rubbed against his wrists and ankles. "Where is Violette? What happened to-" He hesitated, tears uncontrollably streaming down his face once again. "What happened to the child?"

"Do you not remember?" The king's voice remained ever flat and stoic, but there was an almost twisted sense of pleasure seeping through his words.

"Of course, I remember..." Calixte sniffed as he wrapped his arms around his legs. With the spell Violette had cast on him, he could recall any memory with her. The image of the newborn held underneath the water and Violette's screams whilst he was dragged away replayed in Calixte's mind. But somewhere inside of him that was not so far gone into despair held onto the foolish hope that perhaps the baby survived. "Where is Violette?"

"I think you should be more concerned with what will happen to you than my queen."

"What have you done to her?"

King Osmond sighed. "Queen Violette has come to terms with your fate, to your death and has moved on. She will no longer be distracted away from her royal duties, which is to bear my children, not yours."

Calixte cowered as the king stepped closer, towering over him.

"You know, I never quite understood why people without magic choose to procreate," King Osmond continued. "Why would you bring more of you into this world? Honestly, I think we should all just wait for all of you to die out so that all the remains are those with magic. Just like in the wild, the weak die and the strong survive. The only reason any of you still live is because we require servants." The king laughed for a moment, then stopped abruptly, crouched down and grabbed Calixte's hair by the scalp. "But you were disobedient and thought you could climb the ladder up to where you do not belong. Even having a non-mage concubine in court could disrupt everything." He let go of Calixte, causing him to almost collapse from the force. "So, I have to get rid of you."

"You're going to kill me?" Calixte mumbled, having almost come to terms with that fate for the days he had been imprisoned. "Am I to be executed?"

"Yes, you will be." King Osmond straightened up. "But I have something far more special than some beheading."

With a clap of his hands, King Osmond summoned two guards that hauled Calixte up to his feet.

Without food and water for a few days, Calixte's body had grown weak and tired, barely able to walk on his own, so the guards dragged him by the arms to a new chamber. It was small and dark, the walls and floor barely indistinguishable. The two guards unlocked the shackles around Calixte's wrists and ankles but then tied a rope around one of his legs which was attached to a large boulder.

A circular translucent light of milky-white grew, a state in between liquid and gas it swirled on the floor.

"What is that?" Calixte asked, his throat hoarse, almost unable to speak through the fear.