Chapter 3: Attempted Thievery

  Screams echoed in his mind, and and his lungs gasped for air. Slowly, ever so slowly, the world began to fade into darkness. Numb, he barely felt the sharp fingernails grip his shoulder. Trying to inhale, he coughed and spluttered, though he could barely do even that since he couldn't breathe. The aquamarine floating around stung his eyes.
  Then he found himself on the moist dirt, a somewhat familiar girl's face peering down at him.
  Darkness flooded him.

  Char woke calmly, the sunlight trickling trough the slightly folded blinds covering the glass windows in his room. A sigh escaped his lips as he recalled the happenings of the day before. He still didn't know what Urana would say to him, and his shoulder still pained like crazy. He was fairly certain that he had injured it more than he had the first time now.
  Circumspect to make sure he didn't yank his bad arm, he slowly stood up out of his bed. Then, he quietly walked out of his room, and into the room where he had first been welcomed.
  The wooden floor creaked as he took soft steps. The room was empty. Urana wasn't home. Normally Char wouldn't be so anxious to meet anyone, but this home was like luxury, compared to his life before, and Urana was the only person who had been nice to him.
  Except Ash and the gang. He still remembered the night we're he'd been beaten so badly. After it, the only survivors besides him were Ash and another guy Bristle. Ash was more like the leader of them all, he decided what to do and what not to do. As for sneaking into the mansion, Ash hadn't been so keen to do that. Despite holding all the power, Ash was a nice guy. Everyone had been at least three years older then Char back then, but Ash always made him feel included.
  But look at where that had gotten him. If Char hadn't been in the group, things might have been very different. Such as Oak....
  No, no. Char stopped himself from thinking about Oak, blinking back a tear. He didn't like it, but Oak always got him upset. Stop it. Thinking about him will get you nowhere. 
  Sitting down on the sofa, he rubbed his shoulder. A little blood still trickled from it, but it had mostly stopped. He wondered when Urana would be home so she could help. Char was a little anxious tough. He had no idea how she would react. He had been spared the night before, when she had just sent him to bed, but she looked thoughtful, and a bit worried too. After finally finding a home, he didn't want to be thrown out.
  "Char."
  For a moment, he was so absorbed in his thoughts he was shocked by a woman's voice. Then he relaxed. "Urana," he nodded, turning his gaze up at her. "Where have you been?" he demanded. He always tried to act confident in front of others from habit, especially when he was worried.
  She held his glare evenly. "Out," she replied tartly. After another moment, her gaze softened. "How are you feeling."
  "Oh, just fine! Last night I hurt myself worse than last time, and I was completely ignored. I'm just fine."
  "Do you want to live here? If not, I've informed you already, you're perfectly capable of leaving."
  "I'll live as I please, tank you for offering," Char retorted, rolling his eyes. He didn't know why...all of a sudden anger controlled him. All he could think about was how unfair his life had been and how he needed someone to vent on.
  Char's fury evaporated as he saw Urana's eyes flash menacingly, and for a scary moment, he thought she was going to do her mind pain magic again. Then she sighed, as if she read his thoughts. "I know you've had a hard life, but now you're here, and I want to help you."
  Relaxing his shoulders, he flexed his bad one and met Urana in her eye. He didn't need to say anything, he almost seemed to communicate with her through his head.
  "Oh, alright. Show me your shoulder," she sighed, as Char immediately began pulling off his shirt, being careful not to wrench it further. "Looks fine," she said, glancing at him and at the same time, turning around. "Just rest it."
  "Huh? You're not going to do anything?" he asked, standing up and following her out of the room and into the kitchen. "But it hurts! You know what I'd like to know? If you can inflict pain, can you make it go away?"
  Urana froze in her tracks. Very slowly, she turned to face him. The expression glancing off her face made him fear he had gone too far. "Yes. Yes, I can." She stepped closer to him, ad feeling uncomfortable, he tried to move back but found he couldn't. "What do you know?" she hissed. "Has anyone told you anything? I said, has anyone told you anything!" she demanded.
  Strangely, he felt no fear of her sudden shift of mood. It was almost as if he was on the verge of finding the justification for her, and her behavior, but it was just beyond his grasp. "Nothing. No one's told me nothing." Taking a breath, he confronted her. "But I want to know. I know something's up. I know-"
  "You're mad."
  "I know you have some knowledge that you won't share with me. Why would you seek me out when everyone else feared I would steal from them? Why are you so intent to keep me in your home, in your sight? And what do you keep doing to me?"
  Instead of flashing in anger, her eyes glistened with morose as they flickered from gold to brown. "Sit." she commanded. Char wanted to protest, to say no, he was going to stand right there. But it felt as if there were a string attached to his muscles, pulling his limbs toward a large chair.
  He gave in to it, and watched Urana come stand next to him with narrowed eyes.
  "I can't tell you," came the answer simply.
  Rather than fighting back, he heard himself whine like a child. "But why? I really want to know."
  "I'll tell you soon. Perhaps tonight. Possibly tomorrow. But soon enough."

The door slammed loudly behind him as Char stormed out. He'd had enough of Urana telling him what to do, and behaving as if he were a small child. He still wasn't sure of his age, but he knew he was close to adulthood. Why should he listen to her orders?
  Against his will, the urge to steal something pulled at him like strings. Though without his knife, uncertainty gripped him on what he would do if he was caught.
  Fighting is not the answer, he heard her voice in his head.
  He muttered, "Shut up," to himself, trying to block his mind from acting messed up.
  His eyes narrowed in on a house, a small house looking abandoned but as if packed with junk. Or, trinkets that could possibly earn him food. Though his mind continued to pull him back, his body carried him forward against his will.
  As he walked up the stairs leading to the door, he thought he saw a flicker of movement inside. Char paid no attention to it as he slowly picked the lock and pried open the door. Blackness engulfed the room as he stepped in.
  He took slow, sure steps when something cold pressed against his throat. Recognizing the edge of a knife kissing his neck he halted. "Who's there?" he demanded.
  Uneasiness grew in him and there was a sound of slithering and breathing besides his ear. More cold knifes pressed into him, and the warm trickle of blood on his stomach contrasted with the cold blade. The voice that finally breathed in his ear was loud, destroying the show they put up.
  "We've been waiting for you. You're the thief that escaped from Hafvud. You're under arrest."
  Char resisted the urge to kick out and escape, knowing that he would only be stabbed by many knives. "No I'm not. You have the wrong person," he lied, his voice shaking. He felt a sharp pain on his stomach as the tip was driven in further.
  "Liar."
  "Really. Let me go. I'm in the custody of Urana Sephoria. You can ask her whatever you want to know," he blabbered frantically, looking for a way out of the mess. The darkness still filled the room, not helping his fear.
  "Come. Sit. We'll let you explain everything," the man announced, cold malice in his voice. Char swallowed. He knew there was no way out of the situation, they wouldn't believe him whatever he said. And what they held against him was justified.
  A light shone brightly in his eyes and Char quickly glanced down, not wanting to be blinded. As he did, he felt a small prick in his throat and flinched. "Sorry," one man said, not at all sounding sorry. As Char blinked, he slowly made out the outline of a room.
  They shoved him forward towards a sofa in the center of the room. Trying to refrain from swearing at them, in fear of getting stabbed, he submitted to their hands and sighed as he set himself down. "Now what do you want?" he asked, resignation edging his voice. As he glared at each of the people surrounding him, he realized he would have to make his escape now, that he couldn't wait.
  "We have been following you, Char. Since the moment you escaped the court. And had that little fight on the outskirts of the town. I notice you're not completely recovered from that?" the man asked, a sly smile playing on his lips.
  Char didn't hesitate to curse now, as he muttered under his breath. Calming his temper, he looked the man in the eye, recognizing him. It was the one who had cut him, and the one whom Char had almost stabbed as he'd fought to free himself.  "My shoulder is fine, than you for asking," he replied, trying to make his voice sound cold. He also tried to remember how Urana talked, the words she used, so he could sound more formal. "And what do you want from me?"
  He flinched away as the man leaned in closer, grinning. "We want to turn you in. You shouldn't be alive. And now that you've run away, your penalty will be worse. Probably a public death. Maybe stoned?" He's enjoying this, Char thought furiously as he glared at him. Though it was true, whatever he was saying. He had friends who had suffered these consequences.
  Seeing no other option, he dropped to the level of begging. "Look. I'll do anything you want. Anything any of you want. For however long. Just let me go." When they didn't respond, Char added, "Please?"
  The man seemed hesitant before responding. "No. You see, we want you. We get paid for turning rogues like you in. And we want our pay." The man drew in a breath. I am Elsay. And you, will soon be dead." To Char's confusion, Elsay seemed to raise his hand behind him. By the time he realized what Elsay was doing, it was too late. That last thing he saw before the world plunged into darkness was a large hammer hurtling towards his head.

A loud banging woke him. Char stifled a moan as he opened his eyes, his head throbbing. As the light filtered into his eyes, and he grasped his surroundings, he realized he was in some sort of cell. The memories came flooding back to him. Oh no. Not again.
  He was in a new cell now, probably the one they had in Bejoyr. Moss covered the ground. "Char."
  "Ow," he whispered, clutching his head. He didn't bother seeing who it was, he could recognize Urana's voice. She sounded stern, as if she were about to launch into one of her lectures.
  "Char," she repeated. He hated when she did that. Just keep calling him until he answered. Couldn't she see he had a headache? Finally she seemed to get the message. "Char, tell me what happened."
  He sighed, and immediately regretted it. Every movement he made just exploded his head. It hurt to think. "I bet you already know," he muttered, not wanting to speak too loudly.
  "I do." Her tone was very matter-of-fact, as if she wanted him to just do what she said and not complain. Wrong person to expect that from. No matter how much pain I'm in, I won't be a doormat, he thought rebelliously. "But I want to hear it coming from your mouth."
  Rolling his eyes, he replied, his voice dripping with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "So, basically, you have your specifics and want 'em how you like it, no matter what condition everyone else is in." Raising his eyes to look at her, he attempted to glare.
  Urana sighed. She closed her eyes for a moment, puzzling Char. After a few seconds, he realized that she was somehow performing some magic to alleviate the pain. When it was all gone, and when she snapped open her eyes, he felt himself go limp with relief. "Thank you," he whispered.
  To make things even better, she didn't pester him about explaining himself. "How do you plan getting out of this?" she asked, in a seemingly oblivious mood to the danger of the situation.
  Char groaned involuntarily. "I don't know." He paused, then continued, asking the feared question. "They are going to kill me, aren't they?"
  Urana's startling eyes met his. "Yes," she replied reluctantly. "They are preparing whips for you."
  He felt himself sinking even lower to the ground. He let himself drop his face back in his hands. "It's not fair," he complained furiously, dread sparking his anger. "First we're treated so inhumanely, without any food. Then they kill us if we try to get it ourselves!" It never had to be like this, a voice inside him reminded.
  "It never had to be like this, Char. I do know about of your past."
  "What?" He snapped his head up, uncertain if he was more shocked by the wording of what she said, of the information which she's shared. Her face was tinged with amusement, she must have noticed his confusion.
  "Tell me about yourself. Why did you leave the life you had?"
  Char swallowed and looked away. "I don't want to talk about it" he replied curtly. Though, after living a month with her, he knew Urana well enough to understand she wouldn't allow that as an answer. "I left when I was seven," he whispered. "My parents never wanted me around. And Oak-" he broke off. He wouldn't talk about Oak. Not Oak, ever again. "All they did was make me study. I know, that isn't a reason to run away. But they hated me. My parents would have killed me if they could have. Besides, Jacr was gone a year later."
  Urana didn't respond, seeming thoughtful. Finally, she spoke in a soothing voice. "You're not wrong. It was right of you to leave."
  He jerked his head to face her again. Almost everything she said surprised him. It had been like that the entire time he had so far lived with her. "Of course it was. It was only too obvious what my fate would be if I had remained."
  "Did you know they were coming?"
  "Who was coming?"
  "The ones that raided your town."
  "No."
  "They were looking for you."
  Char froze, he had been absently playing with his newly cut hair. "They what?" he blurted out, caught off guard. Why would anyone be looking for him? Before he could say anything more, the sound of shouting from outside cut him off. He closed his eyes and let out a breath. "None of this matters now. I need to get out of here," he muttered to her, standing up. After a moment, he felt himself swing back an arm, then punch the wall in fury. As pain shot up his arm, he thought he heard a crack from his curled up fingers.
  "Wise," Urana commented.
  He rolled his eyes, then turned to her. "Fine. I know what you want to hear. Will you please help me?" he asked, his annoyance overcome with desperation.
  Char saw her smile. "Yes, I will. Unfortunately, there is no way out of the cell other than towards the stage where they will kill you. You'll have to go with them when they start, then I will interrupt and pull you out of it. I hope you're not afraid of a few lashes," she responded, laying out the plan.
  He felt his own lips curl up. "I don't mind the whip. I've dealt with it enough times," he replied wryly, subconsciously fingering grooves in his back. As she turned to leave, another thought erupted in his mind.  "Wait. What about me after? I can't stay here." As he stared at her, he realized just how much he was relying on her. Char thought of how much everything had suddenly changed.
  She didn't seem to realize it was a problem. "Oh, don't worry about that. I have plans, and you need to come with me."
  "Where are we going?" he asked, for some reason dreading the answer.
  She smiled again. "The Forest of Ismuraa."