Graves And Songs
Neir had heard plenty of tall tales about the individual who cared for those imprisoned under the castle, just as it had likely heard plenty of rumors about them.
Neir had been told to avoid it at all costs, that it was a harbinger of sorts. Anyone who got too close to it met an unspeakable fate, that was why the king had decided to have it’s mouth sewn shut. So that anyone who had the misfortune of gazing upon it would immediately know to walk in the opposite direction.
Neir had also heard that it had been in a troupe, many years ago. It traveled the three kingdoms with it’s makeshift family, performing all sorts of acts of seemingly impossible feats. It just so happened that the troupe had a tendency to mock King Creon, to poke at the issues and strife the people of Aimatrios faced, to bring his misdeeds to light. Their words traveled back to the king’s ears, and he sent Pluto Coil and his knightage after the troupe. The thing living under the castle was the sole survivor, made into an example. It had spoken ill of King Creon, laughed in his face, so it’s mouth was carved into a permanent smile before being sewn permanently closed. It was branded with one of the king’s sigils, carving his orders into it’s soul, so that it ever were to disobey it would forfeit it’s life.
Neir didn’t care what was true and what wasn’t. All that mattered was that Euthymius had lead them to it. He wanted them to open the door, to meet the monster.
So, they placed their key into the lock, and descended the stairs.
~
Prince Ezil pulled Ren aside as soon as he was able, next he was on castle grounds. His small, calloused, cold fingers dug into Ren’s arm as he dragged him along behind him, finding a small, mostly private corner of the gardens.
“Vox has requested to meet with you.” Prince Ezil hissed, leaning in close. Ren blinked at his prince in confusion for a few silent moments, head cocked to the side and brows furrowed. “Oh, Gods, you know not of Vox?”
“I am afraid not, my prince.” Ren hummed, glancing down at where Prince Ezil still held his wrist, hands shaking and tense. Ren wasn’t entirely sure who this Vox individual could be, to unsettle his prince so, but to’ve never come up in any prominent Dolofonia discussions. Surely, they had to be someone involved in the court, but Isaac had told them of all of the powerful individuals they needed to be wary of.
“It’s the Dungeon Keeper, Rentaro. It’s the one the knights refer to as ‘the fool’s ghost’. Have you truly never heard of them?” Prince Ezil whined, wiggling Ren’s arm around in mild frustration. “It tends to the prisoners kept in the deepest parts of the dungeon, it’s usually the person who leads them out to execution.” He paused, leaned in a bit closer. “It’s the one who cared for Rowdy. Who pulled him onto the platform that day.”
Ah.
Of course.
“I didn’t know they even had a name, honestly.” Ren rasped, beginning to understand why his prince seemed so perturbed. “Why do they wish to meet me…?”
“Are you still half asleep, Ren?” Prince Ezil half growled, finally releasing Ren to run his hands down his face. “You sparred with Sir Nier. You sparred with them, and survived. Not only that, but you were still in one piece. And yet, here you are, merely the next day, with not a scratch on you?” He looked up at Ren with pure confusion and frustration. “Not a scratch, not a scar. Either you did that well, or you recovered that quickly. Vox isn’t the only person who’s interest you’ve piqued, you idiot! Who even healed you, I’ve never heard of a form of magic that’s capable of preventing scarring?” Ezil squinted, grabbing Ren’s wrist and closely examining his hand and arm, searching for any evidence of his previous wounds.
“Uh, is that so?” Ren swallowed thickly, looking past Ezil and at nothing in particular. “My friend healed me, if I can even call what he did healing. Did you know a transfer of wounds is possible? I had been unaware of such a thing, myself. Would you consider that as healing, my prince?”
“Hm, honestly, no. Who would even do such a thing? What a wasteful way to use mana in such a disgustingly precise way. A shame, really, I was hoping to employ them.” Ezil sighed, shaking his head and dropping Ren’s hand once more. “However, if asked, you will lie and say Sir Neir healed you. They likely will assume they forgot such a thing, and the only people who will know that you’ve lied are the two of us, your friend, and your colleagues. We will not speak of your friend, for his well being as well as our own.” Ren nodded in silent agreement, gaze finding his prince once more. He was intending on keeping Isaac’s name out of his mouth, anyways, so he was glad his prince was on the same page. “You also will not go into detail, if prompted to discuss the events of your spar. It ended in a stalemate, that is all I am permitting you to disclose. You will not comment on your own strategies and skills, under any circumstances.”
“I understand, my prince.” Ren said softly, tone careful. He watched Ezil’s eyes soften, ever so slightly. “Am I to go visit Vox? What about my training?”
“You will visit it. It is ranked just under Pluto, and I would hate to upset someone in that kind of position. You can train once you return, if it isn’t too long of a visit. I am honestly not too concerned, with the progress you’ve made thus far. I would like to trust you, Ren. I’d really like to trust you.” Ezil sighed, fidgeting with one of the rings he was wearing, twisting it back and forth around his finger, looking up at Ren with a complex sort of expression. “A simple visit. That is all that is required of you. That is all I am asking of you. Find Vox, speak with them, and return to me.”
~
Prince Ezil had sent Ren on his way after that, lending him a bird made of mana to lead him through the castle’s twisting and turning corridors. Walking through the golden halls, dripping in gemstones and luxury, made bile rise to the back of his throat, only made manageable by the soft blue songbird made of frost floating in front of him. He tried to simply fix his gaze on the bird, to look at nothing else.
He couldn’t help but feel unsettled by how empty and quiet the castle was. The castle back home had always been bustling and busy, filled with sound and life.
These halls were empty, and all Ren heard was his own footsteps.
He wondered if, perhaps, it was because Vox dwelled somewhere nearby, and people wanted to avoid them… But Vox seldom left the catacombs. Neir was more of a threat than Vox, as was Novus. Both of them, however, consistently had people around them. What was it that made Vox such a plague…?
Ren got his answer when he rounded a corner and was met by the sight of Vox standing at the end of the dim corridor. Ren thought he had gotten used to seeing someone’s trauma painted to their skin, living with Nepthys and Isaac, but he was proven wrong in this moment. He felt his blood run cold, gazing at the figure before him. Vox was a few inches taller than him, standing at around 6’7”. It was dressed in a revealing leotard and corset, both black, showing off it’s slender waist and long legs. Ren had a difficult time tearing his eyes away from the markings carved into it’s skin there. The left thigh bearing a swirling black curse, one that reminded him of snakes, one that made the skin on the back of his neck prickle. The other marking was a depiction of dahlias crawling up it’s entire right leg, painted in soft pink scar tissue against their milky white flesh. Ren wondered if it was hiding more wounds under it’s flowing white sleeves, before his gaze was caught on it’s smile. Stitched into it’s face, stretching from one side of it’s face all the way across to the other side. It looked like it hurt, and Ren wondered what it must be like, to be stripped of emotion and voice in such a way.
When his eyes finally met Vox’s vibrant pink gaze, his face flushed in shame. The blue bird summoned by Prince Ezil danced around Vox briefly, before disappearing. Vox did not look away from Ren, eyes fixated on his face. Perhaps it had somehow recognized him.
In the shape it was in, Ren knew, if they had met previously, he would not be able to recognize it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Vox. I am Ren, I heard you requested I meet with you?” Ren said softly, voice failing him momentarily. He gave a slight bow, attempting to be polite. Vox leaned down, to be eye level with him, before they nodded at him once. It did not offer a hand to shake, it did not return the bow. It simply kept staring into Ren’s eyes.
Then, they both stood upright, and Vox opened the door behind them, beckoning Ren to follow. He sighed, quietly and to himself, before following the monochrome jester down the stairs, and into the dungeons. The two of them were silent while they descended, and Ren attempted to keep his eyes trained to the floor. Vox had an unsettling energy about them, almost as if one combined the aura Quella and Isaac gave off, and gave it a sharp twist. Ren felt as if Vox could see right through him, as if it was gazing beyond his eyes and directly into his head, digging through his thoughts and memories.
When he thought this, Vox glanced at him over it’s shoulder, torchlight reflecting off their eyes almost in amusement. Ren felt his skin prickle, goosebumps traveling up his spine. It was too late to attempt to keep his thoughts to himself, he assumed.
They walked for what felt like hours, down the rickety and steep stairs, before Vox lead Ren through another door. Ren wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting the dungeons to look like, but this… Wasn’t entirely what he was imagining. There were candles, either lit or burned out, lining the floors, sat on barrels and boxes, resting on every surface. There was far more light and color than there was in the rest of the castle. Vines of flowers stretched across the ceilings, dropping little orbs of light that died out before they hit the floor. Like a rain of glowing pollen. Flowers were weaved along the bars of the cells, smelling sickeningly sweets, presumably preserved by magic.
Ren couldn’t help but notice that all the cells adorned with flowers were empty.
Vox began leading Ren down the corridor, which seemed endless. He wondered if it truly was this large of a wing, or if Vox had somehow managed to learn spacial magic, and this was a space they had modified.
Vox stopped in front of one of the cells adorned in flowers, opening the door and stepping aside, allowing Ren to peer inside.
The back wall and floor were covered in all sorts of illustrations, some on yellowed paper, and some engraved in the stone walls themselves. He recognized some of the subjects, of course he did. Half of them were of Isaac or Quella, some of them were just endless eyes drawn on top of each other. There was a single illustration of the crown prince, resting atop the empty bed. Ren felt nausea creeping in.
This had been Rowdy’s cell.
Why was he being shown Rowdy’s cell?
He slowly turned to face Vox, and the nausea manifested into actively holding himself back from vomiting.
Vox was looking elsewhere, their eyes shining with unshed tears. It’s shoulders were slumped, as if they were trying to make themself smaller. They looked ashamed, they looked sorry. Ren felt anger crawling up his spine.
“You have no right to look like that.” He heard himself say, even though he knew speaking aloud was a waste of energy, at this point.
He nearly spilled his breakfast across the stones under his feet, when he heard a soft, breezy, ghost-like voice that was not his own whisper inside his mind, “I don’t have a choice.” He didn’t have time to react, before it spoke again. “I had to show you this to get you to understand it.’’
“Understand what?” Ren growled through grit teeth, keeping his back to Rowdy’s hollow cell. If Isaac were to peek inside him again, to reach though him in an attempt to access more information than what was available to Ren’s dull senses, he wanted to keep that torture from him. “What is it that I need to understand?”
“I can’t help you.” The voice, Vox’s unsettling little voice, brushed against the back of Ren’s mind once more. “This place is my final resting, just as it was for so many others.” It sounded hoarse, it sounded tired. “But I’d like your assistance in ensuring it isn’t his grave, as well.” Vox turned ever so slightly, gesturing to the cell next to Rowdy’s.
Beyond the iron bars, there stood a small boy. His skin was pale, sickly looking, taught around his bones. He looked to be no older than twelve years of age, his unruly black hair falling into his equally dark eyes as he stared up at Ren, gaze dripping with icy venom. He stood gripping the bars separating his cell from Rowdy’s, knuckles white and arms shaking. Ren hadn’t even heard him move about, had not felt the presence of someone else so near. He was, once again, reminded of Isaac. The way he behaved like an angry, feral animal when they first met. The way he looked at the world just as this little boy before him was.
“Who is he?” Ren asked simply, keeping his eyes on the child. The child’s gaze sharpened, and he felt the atmosphere shift. The stale underground air seemed to electrify for a moment. It was a threat.
“He goes by Ajax. He was captured by Pluto, taken from his home, and put in my care a few years ago.” Vox whispered inside Ren’s mind, walking over and kneeling next to the cell. The boy, Ajax, slowly walked to where Vox sat, keeping his eyes on Ren. “He can’t survive in a place so devoid of life, under so many seals.” Ren knew well what it was that Vox was asking of him.
“I can’t do anything alone.” He stated simply, crossing his arms. He tore his eyes away from Vox and Ajax, just as Ajax reached through the bars to grab a fistfull of Vox’s lacy white sleeves. His eyes landed on the papers plastered to his cell wall.
Rowdy had drawn for him, too.
There were illustrations of Rowdy and Vox, as well as a woman Ren did not recognize, and a strange looking doll, hung around the boy’s cell. It was apparent the two beds had been dragged across the stone, so they sat side by side, with the bars between them. Ajax and Rowdy had obviously grown close to one another, while Rowdy had been down here.
“... But I can talk to some people, try and see what can be done. I’m not making any promises, but I…” Ren trailed off, glancing back at the boy. He had sat on the ground, both hands tangled in Vox’s sleeves, eyes wide and afraid. His gaze turned cold again, when his eyes met Ren’s. He hated that he saw Isaac in this boy. “I’ll see what can be done.”
Vox reached through the bars, nodding, and gently smoothed out the boy’s unruly hair, before it stood. It nodded again, looking down at the boy with their brows furrowed. They tilted their head to the side, eyes unfocusing, as if listening to something.
The corridor was silent.
Ren had a feeling he was not listening to the voice of anyone physically present, if the way the dahlia scars crawled further up Vox’s leg was any indication to anything. Then, Vox was back, nodding at Ren once more, becoming him to follow him back the way they came.
Ren noticed a cell he hadn’t before, sat directly next to the door. It was the only cell with things adorning the bars that housed someone inside. The only person Ren had seen down here aside from Ajax.
The iron bars had chains of gold and jewels wrapped around them, with a few strips of silk tangled in. The door was rusted shut, or perhaps it had been slightly melted, and there were layers upon layers of magic seals woven into the finery. The seals also adorned almost every surface beyond the bars, from floor to ceiling. There was not a bed in this cell, no personal touches, not even evidence of the person dwelling within being alive. Ren wondered if he was, actually, alive, or a corpse frozen in time.
The man, if he could be called that, was sat on the floor, propped against the wall. He almost looked like a puppet, or a doll, his joints strange and distinctly unhuman. His face was split up into individual parts, and his eyes were dark, unfocused. Looking at him made Ren’s blood run cold, his instincts telling him to quickly flee.
Just as he thought that, Vox grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him away from the cell. In the blink of an eye, the doll was stood pressed against the bars, a hand outstretched between them, reaching for Ren. His eyes remained hollow, and his violet colored hair was pooled at his feet. Ren hadn’t realized the sheer size of the creature when he was sprawled on the other side of the cell, but with him standing before him, seeing him crouch to fit inside the cell, he had to be at least a foot taller than Vox. He was thankful Vox had acted with the speed it had, seeing the crooked porcelain dagger-like fingers mere centimeters away from his face.
“Is this… Is this gonna be this thing’s grave, too?” Ren asked with an uneasy chuckle, taking one more step back. He kept his eyes on the doll, who kept his hand reaching for Ren, tilting his head this and that way while examining him with dead eyes.
Vox sighed through their nose, shaking their head. Ren wondered why this terrifying monster would eventually be set free, but the child would be forced to wither away into nothingness. Vox lightly pulled his shirt again, trying to get him to follow them back to the stairs, to peel his eyes away from the doll.
Ren was fixated, though. Watching the strange, fluid, graceful way the doll moved, hearing his joints creak in the otherwise silent corridor, as if he hadn't moved in years. Perhaps he hadn’t, judging by the sheer amount of dust in his cell. The doll seemed just as fixated by him, too, in a way. He felt similar to when Isaac and Vox looked at him, as if he wasn’t truly being looked at. He wondered what it was this doll was truly looking at, if that was the case.
“Want.” The doll croaked quietly, voice raw. It was like listening to an old music box wind itself up again, aged and unusual, broken and haunting. His voice was far too light, far too honeyed, for something that looked so unsettling. Ren did not even have the opportunity to ask this thing what it could possibly want, because this time Vox grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled, before pushing him out the door and back into the stairwell, just as the outstretched arm popped. When Ren was able to see what had happened, what had prompted such a quick and alarmed reaction from Vox, through the quickly closing door, he realized he may very well owe Vox his life.
The doll’s mouth was hanging open, revealing an empty abyss, eyes empty but looking into Ren. The pop and subsequent crack he had heard had come from the outstretched arm, which had somehow elongated. The hand and fingers had, as well, and talon like claws had broken through the porcelain of the doll’s fingertips. His gold-dipped claws were clutching the air in the space previously occupied by Ren’s throat. If Vox had moved even a moment later, Ren’s blood would’ve painted the walls of the dungeons. He would’ve never been able to leave.
He had no trouble in being further motivated to leave, to get back above ground.
They went up much quicker than they had gone down, but they were just as silent.
Once they reached the door leading to the castle halls, Ren felt like he could cry tears of relief, all of his energy having been drained. He burst through the door a bit recklessly, looking forward to breathing fresh air again.
He nearly ran straight into Novus, who had been about to open the door to head down. They both froze, and Vox stepped around them before looking down at the two of them, expression as blank as they could manage. Ren spluttered a quick apology, bowing deeply, flailing his hands about in his panic. Novus laughed him off, patting his shoulder lightly, before excusing himself and stepping past Ren. Ren straightened up, turning and watching as Novus descended the stairs.
Novus was carrying a silky white robe, trimmed in delicate gold embroidery, folded neatly in one hand. In the other, he twirled a set of keys. Ren felt his panic spike even further, and he looked at Vox in horror. He asked it without even opening his mouth, begging him to tell him he was assuming wrong, that Novus was headed elsewhere.
Vox shook it’s head slowly, swallowing thickly. Their eyes were panicked, as well, when they whispered against Ren’s skull. “You need to leave.”