Chapter 26
“Yorin,” Enor said as he entered their shockingly luxurious prison. All Yorin could do was stare at the other Eternal, frozen in fear as Enor began strolling through the living room. Next to him on the couch was Hidarion, shifting nervously. Yorin had to keep himself from shielding him from Enor somehow.
“I’ve noticed you’ve made devices that can almost perfectly disguise whoever wears them,” Enor continued, turning around to look at him. Yorin flinched, his heart hammering away in his chest. Enor didn’t even have to try intimidating him for Yorin to be intimidated by him.
Enor could kill him with barely a thought if he wanted to, but for some reason he hadn’t. But if he wanted to get Yorin to help him with anything, he wouldn’t. He may have been a coward, but there were lines he wasn’t going to cross anymore.
“T-they aren’t fully operational,” Yorin stammered when Enor stayed silent for much, much too long. He just kept staring Yorin down, his face perfectly neutral. It was so hard to predict what Enor would do next. As always, it made Yorin incredibly paranoid.
“Many things aren’t. Yet they can cause trouble nonetheless,” Enor mused, connecting his hands behind his back. He was still staring at Yorin. Unblinking. Had Enor always been this robotic? Yorin couldn’t remember, but it felt so wrong.
He swallowed thickly. “Um, w-what are you, uh, talking a-about?”
“The recent attack orchestrated by Tharos’ Garen,” Enor replied. If Enor was still all there, Yorin had no doubt he’d be annoyed with him for not putting this together himself. The idea made Yorin’s heart hurt. “I truly didn’t expect him to attempt something like this so soon. Truly remarkable. Clearly, he needs to be dealt with quickly.”
“No!” Hidarion protested, and he covered his mouth right after. Yorin was ready to leap in front of him, to protect him from Enor’s wrath. But then he realized—Enor couldn’t feel wrath. Not anymore. So many thousands of years, and Yorin still hadn’t gotten it through his head.
“I’ve traced the energy signature of his wormhole to Imbera, but I couldn’t get an exact location,” Enor continued, completely ignoring Hidarion. Actually, at this point Yorin wasn’t sure if Enor was paying attention to anything but his own thoughts. Next to Yorin, Hidarion bit his lip. The man clearly cared about Kaleth a lot to be this worried about him.
“Is this a common thing these days?” Enor asked, once again looking down at Yorin. Despite this being a question, the intonation was off. There was no curiosity in it at all. “Eternals bending space to their will?”
Yorin shook his head. “I was just as surprised as you.”
“I’m not surprised,” Enor corrected him just as Yorin remembered. Right, Enor literally couldn’t feel…anything. Including surprise. “I would just like to know how this came about. I have tried teleporting myself, but I haven’t managed to do so so far.”
Thank the universe for that.
“Do you have anything to share on the subject?” Enor asked, his voice just as flat as ever. But somehow, this time it had a threatening edge. Yorin stared at the dark red carpet beneath their feet.
“No, Enor,” Yorin replied, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. “I don’t know how it works. I thought only Rel—er, Tharos knew how to do it.”
Enor hummed. And then his eyes lit up with his signature golden light. Yorin cried out, clutching his head as horrible force tore through his mind, bringing with it terrible, terrible pain. It was gone as quickly as it came, but it left Yorin dizzy. He kept his hands where they were, fisted in his hair as he blinked, trying to get a hold of himself.
He hadn’t realized until then that there were tears running down his face. Or that Hidarion was holding his shoulder, staring at him with incredible worry.
“That is extremely unhelpful,” Enor commented, not a hint of disappointment or anger in his voice. Yorin wiped his face, keeping his head down. Would Enor kill him now that it was clear he wasn’t useful to him? “Though I am very glad to have a definite confirmation that Irif is indeed dead.”
He didn’t sound glad.
“Yes,” Yorin said, his voice as fragile as an eggshell. He coughed, trying to clear his throat. “Kaleth killed her.”
“Fascinating,” Enor said, tapping his chin. “What we couldn’t do for millenia he managed in forty years. This is exactly why I scrapped the Aperios project. There are far too many variables.”
Oh. Yes, that made sense. Yorin had found it a bit odd that Relioth would have managed to do something scientific that not even Enor had been capable of. But that was exactly what was giving Yorin hope that maybe Enor could be defeated once and for all. Kaleth was unpredictable, if not in personality, then in his abilities. There had never been anything remotely like him, so no matter how much data Enor had, no matter what he’d just taken from Yorin’s head, he wouldn’t be able to predict everything.
“Hm.” Enor didn’t even seem to be paying attention to them once again. “Yorin, you will work for me.”
Yorin gaped at him. “B-but—”
“If you refuse, I will have Hidarion tortured. Possibly to the death.”
Yorin stared at Enor, horrified. He felt his heart sink. Oh, so that was why he’d been put here instead of a regular holding cell. Enor had wanted him to get closer to Hidarion so he could use him against Yorin later.
Yorin put his head in his hands, sighing deeply. “Okay. Just please don’t hurt him.”
“Wait, no, you can’t—” Hidarion argued, but Enor interrupted him.
“Wonderful,” he said almost sarcastically. “I’ll send somebody to get you later.” And with that he walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Are you all right?” asked Hidarion, his hand still on Yorin’s shoulder. Yorin nodded, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. “I’m sorry that he—”
“No, it’s okay,” Yorin cut in, shaking his head and looking up at Hidarion. The last thing he wanted was for the man to feel guilty about being used as a pawn in Enor’s ruthless game. “It isn’t your fault.”
Hidarion looked doubtful, but he didn’t argue further and took his hand away. Yorin already missed it. He sighed again as that familiar feeling of hopelessness settled in his heart. He would have to do as much as he could to be as unproductive as possible. He couldn’t give Enor anything useful. Not after what had happened last time.