She spoke her name and the song of her soul washed over him in thick layers of sounds. Layer upon layer of symphony created a humming celestial orchestra that had his nerves pleasantly vibrating and tears leaking from his eyes. Chased out the pain of the metals searing his flesh while it bellowed in his head.
It swept him up in a stomach dropping suddenness, shooting him into the heavens of its origin. Traveling morose keys plucked and pressed upon the thousands. A whistling flute circled the steady pounding thunder of giant drums. Brassy horns lazily blasted in metronomic intervals with desperation carried in their wide mouthed calls. Cymbals and chimes fluttered around it all in shimmering random strobes while the building of strings carried him higher and higher until all the sound was trembling. Blurring into a whittling chaos as he was thrust towards a peak. A single string of sound ringing so loud it became silent.
Sparks of hesitation ignited embers of unease, the thread of song guiding him to the door of her soul. He'd never encountered a being so full, layered in songs that played over one another in eerie and unnatural cohesion. Never had ones notes so finely thread for him. He had always enjoyed new discovery, learning, and growing within his powers. Acquiring new processes and honing the skill of singing names. He suspected, even as young as he was for a fae, that he possessed more names than most. Could sing their songs pitch for pitch. One of hundreds of names and her sound reigned in its luster.
There really was no turning back now for him, now. The spell was too far along and there was no stopping it. Besides, Death was right around the corner–he'd begun to hear the faint hymns–and he really didn't want to die in this prison.
Before there was even any more contemplation to be had, the single ringing line passed through him and pulled him to its vertex. His muscles fell slack and his eyes widened as a cosmic spirit embraced his will readily. His magic shot out, deeply rooted into her being. A glowing tangle of lines the color of storms and lightning treading through blood and bone, sinking into folds of tissue and flesh. Passing through the walls of consciousness and embedding themselves into her very fibers of her being.
Warmth saturated his broken body and he felt as the power in her soul viewed him. A knowing that watched in interest. The greater awareness held him at her peak in the palm of a feverish desire. A feeling that seeped over the ledge of an endless chasm brimming with song, it forces thirsting and restless. Then a little pulse and it pushed him out. And, he fell, gently down through the layering cords as they unwove from the single thread, until he was back in his cell. Bubbling laughs escaped his lips as the rush of it all faded, leaving him intoxicated. Numbing his limbs and soothing the ache in his head, his body sank into stone as if it were pillowy clouds. Lazing upon them in the warmth of the sun, it's glorious ray absorbed by his skin.
More laughs accompanied a relief he had never experienced before. "Oh my sweet Korin, you have no idea how smooth my tongue can be." Delta would kiss her if he could. His eyes shut and for the first time in a moon, he drifted to sleep, free of pain.
A soft snoring let Korin know the man had fallen asleep. She could still feel the pulsing hum between them, the connection his spell had formed, passing through the thick stone walls of their cells. If she closed her eyes and thought about him she could almost see a blurred man in an ambiguous heap.
She lay there, listening to his breathing while trying to picture him clearly in her head, and followed behind him in slumber.
.
For a short while.
A creak from high above woke her. Another thing she'd become really good at; waking up to the smallest sound. Being shot awake was her third least favorite thing about the prison.
Footsteps creaked on old boards. Wood on wood clipped and clacked as items were placed on surfaces. A heavy sigh of the illusionist followed. A sigh of discontent. Korin clenched her teeth. She did not like when he was in moods like these. He was less cruel when he was gleeful.
She wanted to crawl away; wished she were small enough to fit through the little tunnel and make her escape. To get away from the man and how he made her feel. She'd never really hated anyone before. In some way she had always known fear and anxiety; the distrust of the village and the broken glass subservience offered so she would be granted permission to stay. But rage and hatred was new. A truth revealed in the falseness he desperately sewed in her mind. She had never known the overwhelming desire of violence that could burn in her throat and shake her limbs. A hot fist twisting up her gut and demanding she lash out. The illusionist had drawn forth seething hatred with the stings of his very own bow and Korin wanted to tear that man apart with her very own hands.
.
But the fear she met first always stopped her from acting on her anger. A cautionary hand holding her shoulder and shaking its head at the thought of what may happen should she become too emotional in the eyes of the illusionist. He had been looking for information about her, and a voice in the back of her head would not allow her to reveal too much. Always on the edge of revelation or action within the illusion, something stopped her or shattered the visions. The fear of the consequences of the parrying of two wills. The hesitancy of clashing between her and the illusionist, where she existed at the disadvantage, called itself rationality. And instead, with a heavy groan as cuts and bruises ached, she unfurled. Used her feet to push herself into a sitting position against the wall.
"You don't ever let me catch you asleep anymore. What a shame." His sharp voice circled down the tower and clipped at her ear drums. A drastic contrast from the mystery man's melodious voice. Unlike most days, the illusionist's voice was flat and did not hold its crazed properties. He sighed again, this time deepened and a little wheezy. "I've taken a lesson from you and have decided to act on my despondency with apathy and a smidge of apprehension."
Korin didn't like where this was going.
"They've decided to move on with phase two. It's been made clear to me that I have failed and I cannot help but feel a deep sense of shame." There was an angry huff as he broke away from his imitation of her and bit out, "I don't understand." Then he returned to his sullen mockery. Despite the levelness of his tone, the sound of items being picked up and placed down increased in angry pitches. "They plan to transfer you soon. Even with the shackles and chains you wear now, only the strongest of our priests can enter your cell. And that's with you sedated. So some time had to be spent developing better binds to contain that sinister aura of yours. There is even a collar and gag to match. They should be arriving in a couple days"
Her stomach rolled and then dropped as the loudest sound slammed out. He let out another dramatic sigh and a chair was dragged across the floor, followed by the thud of a body as it heavily took a seat. "Look at what you all have done to me. I cannot even find persuasion in my passion. You have ignited something within me and my brethren are trying to drown it out." His voice dropped to a hollow whisper. "You are a dangerous demonic muse, and you have made me a sinner."
The hair on Korins arm rose but she dared not look up into the blackened ceiling.
"I've spent so many nights enchanting arrows just in anticipation to sink them into your flesh. So much time and dedication I have put into this relationship. So much of my magic I have poured into you. And they want to steal you away, just like that." The air echoed with a dry snap as he emphasized his dull words. "I suppose this is why I have tried to copy you. I care too much and you don't seem to care about anything at all. Apathy is a great way to deal with the emotional stresses of life. I can see why you wear it so fondly. If I sit here and pretend I don't care, my heart does not ache."
Korin involuntarily protested as his word struck some deep wound she was not entirely conscious of. "I care-"
She was cut off quickly, "No you do not. I have taken you across the world and through dense fields of emotions. I have picked apart your dull little life and shown you realities and experiences you have never known. And, yet, you have crumbled my spells with the weight of your emotionlessness. If you care about anyone or anything it is only because you believe you should; more accurately, because you believe you have to. Not because you genuinely do. This I am certain."
Korin swallowed and warm frothy saliva coated fuzzy teeth and a throat dried up from dehydration.
"I have never encountered a being like you; so devoid of everything. Such a husk You are so empty and I could only ever dream of filling you."
Korins fingernails were biting into her palms at his words as anger she knew to be real flared. She took small breaths, refused to lift her head, and reminded herself that the illusionist was a manipulator. He was trying to get a rise out of her.
The curved cells of the wall crowded in, and air funneled in and out of her lungs, "A million mirages seeded inside you and they would still not breach the canyons of your soul. The allure of endlessness has me in its binds…I am an obsessive man." He paused to suck at his teeth, thinking for a moment. "No, no, no. I am doing it again. Thinking and feeling too hard. I am supposed to be using your apathy. Besides, so much of my magic is inside of you already. More than anyone else has ever been able to take. Through blood and pain, my enchantments twist into your being. I'm forever a part of you, and for that at least I can be thankful."
She fought a gag as hot bile churned in her stomach.
"And once they have taken you away I will go to the Temples of Absolution and repent for the sinful fruits of love that have grown inside of me. I will seek forgiveness and yet I know the memories of you will always be with me. And I will have your apathy to steer me away from the temptations of such bottomless explorations." There was a pause and then his tone picked up, carried more towards his normal voice as his mockery faded in his revelations. "This is really for the best. Yes. For the best indeed. I dare not think about the distances I would go if I could bear to be in your proximity. Your flesh in my hands. Oh, what grand realities I would carve upon you and the places we would take each other." She heard a wet shucking as his tongue licked over his lips and he hummed.
The man stood abruptly, chair sliding across the wood sending out a curling peal of sound. More clicking and clacking rustling from above and Korin tensed. One would think that after being shot so many times, there would be some level of acclimatization. A bitter assumption turned into an even more vile hope. No matter how hard she clenched her muscles or how much she told her mind that the arrow was coming, she flinched anyway. Even numb and half sedated. Every time.
The creak of a pulled sting, the bending of wood, and yet the thwomp of an arrow released from draw did not follow. Instead he only sighed and placed the bow down. "Actually…" Sadness more natural to him echoed from above. "I will give you the day. Today you may rest."
Korin almost sagged with relief but skepticism, fear, and rage kept her strung up.
"It is a farewell gift to you, but," here came his conditions, "tomorrow will be mine. It is the last day I have before they cart you off to the provinces. One last day to prove myself, rectify my shame. The last time I will ever see you" His voice cracked a little as footsteps retreated. A door creaked open. "I am going to make it special, be prepared."
.
.
.
"I can't believe you just gave your name away."
A snooty little voice startled her as she stared up into the swirling mass of black at the top of the tower. After the priest was gone she had finally looked up into its density. She'd been staring at it for some time, waiting for him to come rushing back in. Paranoid he might be playing some twisted trick, trying to catch her with her with her guard down. Despite being shocked, her eyes didn't waver, recognition coming fast and easy. "It'll be fine."
"You don't know that." Young Korin retorted. "You don't know anything about sung names or the actions you take."
Korin was already in a foul mood and her critical little self amplified her irritation. "And what do you actually know?" She cut out cool and harsh as her eyes briefly snapped to the little girl that now stood in the white cell. "You appear, an apparition from my imagination," she could only assume, "just to criticize me and tell me how useless and dumb I am. You stomp around like you know so much better with your horrible attitude but you never enlighten me. You never share what you truly know."
The child shrugged. "Perhaps I only know as much as you know. Perhaps, I'm only your own insecurities and flaws, come to haunt you. I don't know, I'm only an apparition of your imagination." She quipped sarcastically.
"I don't want to play your mind games right now!" Korin barked at herself. "Be useful or get lost."
"Oooo. Look who's finally finding a voice. It only took being filled with arrows." Soft footsteps approached Korin and the girl came to tower over her slumped figure. "Too bad it isn't your own voice. It's that priests'. He was right about that. That voice and those creepy smiles of yours. Even that anger. None of those things belong to you. They're just things he tried to fill you with."
Korins eyes finally fell from the ceiling, landing her lap. "I know…" But she did not think that her transformation was entirely to his credit. She was sure these had lived inside of her before. Trapped beneath it. The singing man had called it a great power but Korin could only help but feel it might actually be a lurking beast. Something kept scratching at her mind. Nagging claws that told her someone was supposed to tell her something.
"And you know we can't trust that prisoner, right? With our name he can control your will now. He could command us to do terrible things. If he doesn't get us killed first, you need to kill him. As soon as we find the opportunity-"
"There isn't any we or us, Korin. It is just me. I don't trust that man and I don't trust you."
The young girl glared at her older version. They mirrored each other in their state of distress. They were both fitted in simple off white roughspun trousers and shirts. Cheaply made and mass produced. Typical clothing found in prisons and jails. Each was also decorated in matching bruises and cuts. Any time Korin would look at her child self she could see the damage done to her. Knew it was a reflection of the tears in her skin and the trauma wasting her away. She looked at the starved beaten child and felt and knew her own state. Her bones pressed through her skin, permanent hunger and thirst had made themselves at home in the shelves of her abdomen. It was hard to see a child like that and hard to know it was herself. And yet any time pity or empathy arose the kid would open its mouth and spew forth rottenness. Korin hated the girl.
"Now, leave." She barked, slumped over and painfully rolled back onto her side. Her head was once more in line of the draft that blew through the waste tunnel. "I just want to be left alone." She closed her eyes and let the breeze cool the fever on her face. Korin couldn't find rest but at least the kid didn't speak anymore.