The Innocence of Teacups

The bell in Spira started up tolling as he walked through the streets, ignoring those who ran away from him screaming. As of yet no one bothered to approach him. Although Lignum scrambled off his back and ran off to wherever he usually went. Home probably. Home he would never experience one of those on account of he had no idea where he came from.

Walking through a stone street paved with black roads and paths, and having all sorts of creatures running out of his way was all very surreal. His aimless wandering couldn’t last much longer. Those sentinels were sure to let loose some bolts soon. He craned his neck back wondering if they could reach him from here. Yeah that bell tower was real high; looked like the highest point in Spira. Figures moved about round the bell, glaring down at him. He looked away from them wanting there to be minimalistic antagonism on his part.

Finding Sasha was going to be ever so difficult. Those spirits could have taken Sasha absolutely anywhere. For all he knew those spirits who’d taken him were holding him captive in a back room of a tavern, or down someone’s cellar, rather than a dungeon or prison. In fact they might not be holding him captive at all. What he did know was Kella ruled Spira and she happened to be a spirit. Yes he would find this Kella and...

...whoosh! Bolt.

He charged headlong into a doorway as a bolt soared towards him. He crashed through the door or at least his head did; the rest of him wouldn’t fit through. The bolt ended jamming through a window shutter. At least it wasn’t his head. He tugged his way backwards until free of the doorway then hastened down the street, dodging round corners, and skittering into porch ways, in order to keep from getting hit by the sentinel’s bolts.

One street he found himself in was a tight squeeze for his bulky body but at least was out of reach of the crossbows range. He bumped up against a wall to support himself, and took in several deep breaths. Those sentinels weren’t about to let him stay hidden. Best to keep moving. If this alley led to a dead end he’d be in bother. Trapped. On second thoughts being rather large he could probably leap over any obstacle in his way. Flying would not work though because there was not enough space to spread his wings out.

A sharp scratch hit the back of his neck. When he looked up he was met with a falling net. As the net fell on top of him he noticed three feathered people, on the roofs, smirking down at him. He made a dash for it despite being tangled up in the net. His sides scraped into two walls making up the alley. Gosh his head was all of a sudden fuzzy. Was this fuzziness due to that sharp scratch? He staggered, dizzy, eyes heavy, then dropped.

Shiny saws hung up on walls their teeth grinning. He blinked. Tried to move. Couldn’t. Thick straps and heavy chains held him fast, giving him not an inch. The only part of his body he was able to move was his tail, which he thrashed.

Damn he must have only lasted an hour in this horrid world without getting himself captured.

What a dreary place full of saws, and five lethargic demons strapped to huge metal tables. Tubes were shoved into their mouths. The demon next to him only had half his horns; they looked as though they were growing. He averted his eyes to the front wall where saws continued to grin and wink.

Horn Hunters.

His breathing became shallow. This was a living nightmare tale of epic proportions. There must be some way out of this predicament. Those demon prisoners were mindless killers whereas he had a human functioning mind to work with. No matter how hard he struggled against his bounds they refused to loosen. His breath got even shallower as he heard pleased voices outside the chamber, speaking a foreign tongue. How dense he’d been searching for Sasha from the ground, assuming he would be able to brush off any threats because he looked like a ghastly demon.

Two feathered people stepped into the chamber disturbing his thoughts. One of them had dark green feathers. His companion’s feathers were a musty brown. He watched them with a hopefully human like quality. If only he could speak with them somehow. They might let him go if they knew about his situation. Then again if demon horns were as valuable as Lignum stated they probably wouldn’t free him.

Green Feather rummaged round in a drawer while Brown Feather walked round the back of him. Did getting horns sawed off hurt? He imagined so; probably felt similar to having a whole toe nail pulled off with pliers.

A squealed growl flew from his throat as Brown Feather yanked on his tail. When he opened his mouth to scream a tube was rammed into it, and a strap went round his head. Great he was all set up to become one of their lethargic demons. His eyes scanned the chamber, willing Alaric to jump off a rafter to his aid. No vampyre was in sight. Green Feather took a saw from the wall.

Please let a bolt of lightning strike through his brain and frazzle it right this second. No lightning came. He closed his eyes as the first stroke of the saw slid across his left horn, scorching it for proper heavy sawing.

As pain seared through his head, images played in front of his closed eyes, as he tried to pretend he was some place different. He could see his human self running fingers through Silver’s mane as they stood beside a slow flowing river. He smiled and Silver whickered. He and Silver faded to a hole in the church roof, which he hung out of, admiring stars and moons.

Growl. Growl. Growl. Growling into the tube as Green Feather sawed away. Water flooded closed eyes.

One two three. Three back flips, followed by a handstand, into a neat roll, finishing off on his feet. Should have taken his chances with the troupe.

Crack a horn loosened from his head. A moment of brief relief before Green Feather started on his second horn. Saw. Saw. Saw. Growl. Growl. Growl.

A white teacup filled with cold water sat in his hand as he imitated an intellectual merchant sipping tea. Freyr. Smokes and mirrors all the merry way. Traitor.

Two circles of pain rippled round his head. Those circles grew smaller and smaller until pain faded away. Green Feather held up both his horns, observing them with bright eyes; he couldn’t smile for he had a beak rather than a mouth. Brown Feather knocked at one of the horns all pleased at a small fortune gained at the expense of his pain.

The third feathered person made an appearance. He came armed with two buckets. One of which was poured down his tube. He gasped as water cascaded into his mouth. Feeding tubes. Well using feeding tubes seemed the only plausible way to feed a bound demon without losing an arm. Next came the second bucket. Texture was of raw slippery meat on his tongue. If he’d been human this type of food would have made him puke however demon taste buds were accustomed to raw meat. When feeding time was done the feathered people left the chamber leaving him alone with five captured demons.

His body shook. If this was his life from now on he wanted to die. How long did demon horns take to re-grow? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? He could not cope with such agony daily. Weekly would be a struggle. He wanted to run, fly, soar. Eagles should never be kept captive. He could put up with having an eagle body. It would be a step away from a demon one. People admired eagles.

How time was recorded when there was no sunshine or moonlight he did not know. What he did know was it felt like a very long time he’d been strapped to the table. He estimated two days in his world time. Even though it felt like a whole week, two days was more realistic. Yes they’d force fed him two more times. One of the demons had gotten its horns chopped off. The noise had been horrendous.

His mind was beginning to feel dumb. He’d already counted the saws on the front wall many times. There were only forty two saws, which would have seemed a lot had he not recounted them over and over. If he counted them one more time he was sure he would fall into madness. Might already be mad. Probably best to be insane when captured for life. Imprisonment would be frustrating when sane. Were such thoughts sane or insane?

Feet pads came from outside his chamber. It would be force feed time. He sighed on the inside. One of those feathered monsters came into the chamber. This one was different. He’d never seen one whose feathers were dusty white with black tips. Maybe he was a relative sightseeing. White Feather gasped and clattered into an empty bucket. A voice hissed at White Feather in the foreign tongue. Lignum jumped down from White Feather’s shoulder and bustled over to him.

Lignum. His heart picked up a hopeful pace.

“Lil was right you get yourself into much trouble. I told you to beware of Horn Hunters.”

White Feather jabbered something as Lignum jumped onto his head and started undoing the strap which held the tube in his mouth.

“Of course I am sure this is Eagle. I’m not about to untie a random demon. Speak human-ish so I don’t have to translate everything to him.”

When the strap was un-done White Feather came over and pulled the tube from his mouth, then cautiously started on the rest of the straps and chains.

Lignum gave the top of his head a pat. “My fellow scholar Sophos will soon have you freed. It was his idea to rescue you. He’s into researching different species you see, and is extremely interested in a human with a demon appearance.”

His front legs were let loose first. He rolled his shoulders to ease off cramps.

“There was big talk the other day about a new demon being caught by Horn Hunters. I knew it would be you.”

“You shouldn’t have left him,” chided Sophos. “And would you keep your voice down? For a pipsqueak you sure are loud.” Sophos then turned his attention to him, having undone all the bounds. “Get up slowly. If you faint we won’t be able to get you out of here.”

Could he even stand? He shook his head then shakily stepped off the table. He fell with a thud which had Sophos glance at the archway leading out the chamber.

Lignum slid down his neck and rubbed his shoulder blade. “Up you get before Horn Hunters come home from selling your horns.”

“One of them stayed home,” Sophos whispered warningly.

“Not a problem for Eagle. He could knock one right off his feet.”

He managed to lift himself up and after a few practised stumbles was walking almost normally. Walking eased his cramps. Sophos waved at him to come towards the archway which he did, with Lignum seated between his shoulders.

“There’s a cart outside. If you get in that we can take you to our home. You should be safe there for a short while,” said Lignum.

He nodded his agreement. If Sasha still lived he was going to have to wait to be rescued. Nocta Umbra was far too dangerous for him to be charging round without a well structured plan of action.

They hurried along corridors trying to tread quietly which wasn’t easy when you had claws which you were unable to retract. They came to some stairs but carried on past them. Up there must be where his captors lived. Luckily for them no one made an appearance, and they were soon outside in the street. Sophos ran over to a cart which was being pulled by what resembled a giant hog with thick tusks.

“Get in quick,” said Sophos as he lifted up a sheet in the back of the cart while looking nervously up and down the street. Not wanting to draw any attention he got carefully into the back of the cart. The wooden base screeched under his weight. Sophos covered him with the sheet. Seconds later the cart trundled on at a leisurely pace.