The light of a new dawning

Illya woke to find himself face down on a crisp white clean sheeted bed in an equally crisp illuminated and aired room. He could see very little without moving too much, there was a large open window to his side and smooth clean stone floor. Something cool and damp had been placed over his wounded back, buttocks and legs. His mouth was parched and foul and he lay there for a while wondering what happened and realizing that he would be wise not to move. He could scarcely recall the last thing he remembered, confused memories seemed to come together with strange images of Samuel suspended on the rack, of himself laying on the floor of a small room crying and the angelic face of Napoleon with tears of blood rolling down from his weeping eyes. Then there were clear memories of being dragged, as if a corpse, out of the torture chamber by two gigantic muscled guards and hearing that maniacal laugh of the Patrician, just before he had again blacked out, he remembered that he had vowed somehow he must make the Patrician pay.

Now he found himself in a situation he really had not expected. Clean white sheets and not the dark wet foul cell he had expected. Yet he still yearned for his darkness, his sinister, cold, heartless, lover. Those dim shadows of his mind echoed in their idle accusations. Voiced that which he fear the most, that which kept accusing him of his lost light, the joy in his heart he had not missed for so many long years, joy from his very early years as a small child playing in the fields around Kiev.

He could hear distant and faint voices, he strained to listen, but could define nothing concisely. Footsteps replaced the voices and the sound of the tread grew steadily closer, Illya closed his eyes and fained sleep. The door to the room opened gently and closed again with equal silence. Then there was quiet shuffling and hesitant steps over to his bed. A gentle hand slowly drew back the moist padding that was covering Illya's back and he thought better of trying to fain sleep now, the pain of simply lifting the covering was enough to make him gasp aloud, his eyes snapped open and he tried to turn his head to see his new assailant.

"Hush, hush child," an old and kind voice soothed "I am being as gentle as I can but we need to change this dressing.

Illya heard himself moan, a gentle old hand stroked his arm, perhaps the only part of him that wasn't screaming out in a dull aching thump.

"There, now that should feel better." The old man crooned.

It did, of course, the cooling moist dressing seemed to sap the heat from his back almost instantly. Illya sighed and relaxed.

"Are you thirsty boy?" the old man asked. Memories of that same question flashed through Illya's mind and he could only moan in reply. "The dressing I have applied, my boy has a slight narcotic effect, it should relieve the pain significantly in a short time." The old man prattled on "Here, try and drink a little of this" he said holding a straw to Illya's mouth. The strong sweet and salty liquid soothed his dehydrated throat and took away the fetid taste in his mouth. Illya swallowed and tried to ask "Thank you… who… who are you?" he stammered.

"My name is Kardinel, I am a healer in the order here." The old man informed him.

"How…" moaned Illya.

"How? How did you get here? Well your young friend, Napoleon I think it was, carried you here after from the very cell The Patrician had you thrown into following your initiation ah, ceremony I suppose you could call it that, though I remember a time when such things would have been unheard of." explained Kardinel.

"But… where? Where is he?" pleaded Illya.

"Your Napoleon? Well, I'm not sure young man, he muttered something about having to find the Zealot but then he left, I'm sure he will return soon, calm yourself, you are in good hands now, if I must say so myself!" Kardinel laughed with a light yet hearty voice. Somehow Kardinel's laughter reminded Illya of a time long forgotten when he had family and was loved.

Napoleon made his way through the darkened corridors of the great castle, his mind recalling instinctively the way to the acolyte Samuel's cell where he slept and studied. He had not taken any time to changed out of the tight red leather skintight suit he had worn just a short time early, nor had he cleaned himself since his part in the ghastly role he had been required to play out for the Patrician. The ichor from Illya's wounds still coated him but he ignored the gore and pressed onwards. Could he even begin to explain to Illya how he had done that which was impossible to achieve in any other way. If he, Napoleon had only hesitated for only a second, Illya would now be dead, not laying in the healer Kardinel's care. He tired to focus on what he needed to carry out now first Illya then Samuel. Now, he was sure Samuel would need, without doubts, his aid to recover if his part of the plan they had worked out was as effective as they had both hoped. Illya was still alive, that was his main concern, but Samuel's life might be just as uncertain and perilously in danger, as Illya's would have been, without that care from Kardinel, which Napoleon was confident he would now be receiving.

Eventually Napoleon reached the heavy wooden door to Samuel's room. He reached out and turned the handle, of course, he discovered the door locked. Samuel had said, no matter what, he could not have any interruption during the ritual. Napoleon reached into his tight leather suit and removed the hidden old key Samuel had given him the duplicate of early. He tied it in the lock and it gave a satisfying clunk as the heavy locks released. He opened the door and stepped inside Napoleon was completely unprepared for the vile scene that greeted him. There on the cold stone floor was Samuel, lying naked, shuddering, covered in excrement, vomit and blood. He fairly fell to his side calling his name, no response, not good, he checked his breathing shallow but regular a good sign, pulse, steady and strong, that was at least a better sign. He ran his hands over him but could detect no major injuries that was, relieving. Napoleon lifted the slight and filthy body of Samuel from his resting place on the cold floor to the wooden pallet that occupied the corner of this small room. Next to it was a basin, a pitcher of fresh water and a small towel. Napoleon proceeded to pour some of the water into the basin, then dampened the cloth and made a start of cleaning off the filth that coated poor Samuel. As Napoleon gently bathed Samuel's body, he took note of the vicious stripes that covered him from head to toe. There seemed to be no part of Samuel's body that was not a mass of raw angry red welts. Samuel had mentioned to Napoleon that were might be some sort of physical outworking of the empathy bond ritual he would attempt but Napoleon was not prepared to find it manifested in this terrible and unkind way.

The anguish napoleon felt at having had to cause this violation of two people he was beginning to care for deeply hurt more than if he had taken every torturous blow, which he would have, though he had instead inflicted on the both of them. Tears welled uncontrolled; he could not help himself weeping in grief and agony. He held Samuel in a loving embrace and wept quietly as he waited. After some time Samuel began to stir "Napoleon! Did, Did it work? I feared I could not maintain the contact, the strain it was almost too much, but is he alright?" Samuel pleaded to know.

"Yes Samuel, he is recovering, but he is still gravely ill. I took him from his cell and placed him into the care of the healer Kardinel, he's a good man and he will look after him until you are recovered enough that we might attend to him also." Napoleon answered.

"Napoleon, in my desk draw you will find a small vial of amber liquid, please, that will restore me faster than just laying here, I assure you, Please, can you get it for me." Samuel entreated. Napoleon obligingly rose, opened the draw and laying next to the vial was Samuels, Sicæ. He looked up at Samuel who gave a knowing nodded and said, "Yes, you had better bring that with us as well, we will have need of that also I have no doubt."

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