The Threadbinders Ch. 04

They hadn't remained at the enclave long past getting Sophia's things squared away. The woman traveled light, only one small bag of things to her name, and even that wasn't so large that it took up much room in the carriage on the back of Quiesh. The griffon was accustomed to flying with three or four passengers, so for them to have three regularly for the foreseeable future didn't seem to bother the majestic creature in the slightest. In fact, Quiesh seemed to take quite a liking to the woman on first sight, not even having the typical hesitation or caution the griffon usually took to newcomers.

Weesha had been sad to see them go, but Arkady had also spotted a bit of relief that the problem of Sophia was no longer one of her concern. Arkady had known the gnome for a long time, and while Weesha was always happy to take on interesting challenges, she didn't like getting bogged down in them for too long, and would much rather move on to newer and brighter things. She made an excellent teacher because magical students were an endless cavalcade of original and inventive problems.

Before their arrival at the elvish enclave several days ago, the plan had been to head towards the northwest. While Arkady and Yasha had lived lives full of exploration and excitement, neither of them had ever been into the dragon kingdom of Rizo. None of the threads coming off of Sophia headed that direction, however, so they had agreed to put those plans on hold for the time being, while they ran down at least a couple of the other threads that ran off their newest partner.

Sophia had folded into their group with no effort at all, picking up natural rhythms between Arkady and Yasha that the two had cultivated over centuries within hours. She'd also made a point that she would do whatever she could to contribute to the financial stability of the newly formed trio, although Yasha told her that they would easily be able incorporate her with only minor adaptations.

Of all the threads coming off of Sophia, Arkady had decided to follow the thinnest one first, simply because it meant he would be doing the hardest work upfront, as the cord took more effort to narrow in on than the others did.

The threads having such radically different appearances was another mystery that Arkady hadn't cracked yet. In all the centuries he'd been doing this, threads had only had some minor variations to them, and none this diverse. They were never uniform, but the variance was generally minor, slightly thicker or thinner here or there. Sophia's threads were each strikingly unique, and he hoped that after they met another of her threadbound, perhaps it would make more sense.

The thinnest cord, the one which seemed almost a literal thread instead of the typical rope thickness, headed west, towards the Rebevins Desert and likely beyond, so that was where they were headed, even as much as it displeased their personal sensibilities.

Crossing the Rebevins wasn't pleasant, even in the winter when its bracing heat wasn't as cruel and dominant, but it was still the most direct path along the cord, and with Quiesh putting a bit of a push into her flight pattern, they would be across it within a day or two.

Or they would have had they not come across a distress flag half way through the trek across the barren wastelands.

In their typical trips across the Rebevins, neither of them typically needed to keep much watch as the lands were generally featureless and uninhabited, but there was one structure they had passed by before, one incredibly unlikely to have need of either a Threadbinder or a Threatbinder.

Najov.

The Crystal Prison.

Deep in the heart of the Rebevins Desert lay a magical penitentiary known as Najov, but which everyone colloquially referred to as The Crystal Prison, Carved out of a cliffside made of a semi-transparent red crystal known as phonshux, Najov was a designated shared prison for all six surrounding nations to send their worst criminals, a place for the trash to be dumped and forgotten about, those who considered beyond redemption but too troublesome to just kill on spot. Its phonshux construction meant that breaking in or out was considered nearly impossible, the crystal legendarily difficult to work with. In fact, the prison was believed to be an abandoned castle of a forgotten empire, as even the most dedicated of smiths and craftsmen couldn't find ways to break, shape or manipulate phonshux, meaning the building's layout was immutable, although the warden had made some attempts with internal walls and structures carved out of other things.

Najov was generally where criminals went to disappear from the conversation for all time. Occasionally a Threatbinder would be called to put down some form of internal gang rivalry, but neither Arkady nor Yasha had ever set foot inside of the building. It had only two entrances - one on the ground, behind the heavy main gate, and one on a rooftop terrace, where there was a smaller entrance for airborne mounts, such as Quiesh, with a small stable, and one immense iron door. Also on the terrace was a flagpole, which would allow the prison to run up any of the twenty standard signal flags used across the kingdom.

Currently they were flying the "magical distress" flag, a black flag with a red circle and a white X overlaid atop one another.

As much as Arkady wanted to pretend that he hadn't seen it, to simply progress on by without causing any more difficulty, he was a dwarf of honor, and there was only shame to be had in ignoring a distress flag, even for someplace as loathsome as Najov.

He wasn't worried about his or Yasha's personal safety, but Sophia was still new enough to their little clan that he wasn't sure exactly how strong her defensive capabilities ran, even if she was an expert knife thrower. Performance skills rarely translated to combat under fire. But if they kept her close to them, he felt she would be safe.

Najov's appearance was striking, even from a distant. The structure was four stories tall, all carved out of the red crystal that apparently was fully impervious to the impact of weather and time. The walls weren't entirely opaque, allowing light to permeate into the building without giving much sight as to what was happening on either side. The shape of the castle turned prison could be difficult to make out, with no obvious outline or defining features beyond the steel front gate at the bottom and the dust covered terrace at the top. Arkady suspected that while they cleaned the terrace of sand regularly, the weather was more persistent than whoever was assigned cleaning duties. The red crystal building bled into the side of a mountain, and the dwarf wondered how far into the mountain the prison had grown.

With no way to go out, the only ways to go were in and down, neither of which was blocked by phonshux crystal. Beyond the outer walls, eventually it turned into heavy stone, although Arkady had heard tale that it was only directly out backwards and downwards, the sides still caged in with impenetrable red crystal. A few years ago, he'd spoken with a couple of dwarves who were being brought in to expand the prison by tunneling and carving into the available mountain space. They weren't keen to be surrounded by inmates for months, even years, but had agreed that the amount of money they were being offered for the work was more than worth the risk.

The flag being flown meant it wasn't a prison riot or other such problem, as that would have been indicated by a blue flag with three red triangles on it. The distress flag meant there was a problem of magical sorts that the guards and warden of Najov Prison didn't know how to handle on their own, and it wouldn't be proper not to go and answer it.

It was early in the evening, and the sun hadn't fully set behind the mountains in the distance, so both Sophia and Yasha were well awake as Quiesh brought them down onto the terrace. Whoever was on duty was accustomed to military landing on the terrace, usually on dragonback, but the sight of a griffon was not something they were used to.

There was plenty of room on the terrace for the griffon to land, but somewho Quiesh managed to make the three guards who came out look nervous and spooked. "Who goes there?" one of the guards said, pointing a pike at Quiesh's carriage.

"You flew the flag asking for magical help," Arkady said as he opened the door of the carriage, kicked out the fold down stairs and walked to meet them. "Unless you'd rather I get back on my friend here and we fly away while you're waiting for someone better?"

"Thank the gods, no Master Threadbinder," one of the guards said as they all lowered the pikes, a look of relief spreading on their face. "Whatever help you can offer we will gladly take."

He could see the relief increase a great deal once his wife stepped out as well, her Threatbinder colors proudly on display, so he assumed whatever problems they were facing, they were dangerous, and the guards assumed a Threadbinder would be of little assistance.

It wasn't a common misconception, so Arkady took no offense to the matter. People knew their one thing about Threadbinders and assumed that was all there was to them, so he knew it was actually to his advantage to let them continue thinking him to be utterly defenseless.

"And yours Mistress Threatbinder," another guard said.

No one said anything to Sophia as she moved out, but a few appreciative nods were offered.

"Please get my friend Quiesh out of the sun and into the shade while we go and talk to the warden about solving your problem for you," the dwarf told them. "Don't herd her, don't anger her; simply respect her and you'll all be fine, won't they, my friend?" Arkady reached up and patted Quiesh's nuzzling face before turning to follow the one guard leading them deeper into the prison.

"What sort of problem are you having?" Arkady said, as the guard walked them through the gate and down a series of red crystal stairs. The dwarf noticed with some amusement that the guards had probably brought some sand in and scattered it over the floors, to help provide some better definition of where the walls and floors were, not to let the crystalline structure be a complete imposition to everyone and everything. "The mystical distress flag is a rather generic plea for help, and any details we can start gathering early would be appreciated."

"We've had a couple of... unexplained deaths," the guard said. "Normally, that wouldn't be anything to bother us much, but it's more of the matter of how they died that concerns us."

The four of them walked down the stairs to a landing and began to move past a series of cells. Despite how difficult the crystalline structure was to work with, they had still managed to ingrain a series of metal bars to form cell after cell, each with a couple of horrific prisoners inside of them, truly the worst among the worst.

"Hey little elf," a troll sneered at Yasha as they were walking past. "I'll bet that pretty mouth of yours would look great wrapped around my cock." The gargantuan was at least twice his wife's size, but Arkady suddenly felt very sorry for him, as the troll had dropped his trousers and was waving his dick in their direction. His body was covered in scars and muscles and not much else, clearly a life spent fighting in one war or another. "Why don't you come in here and let me skullfuck you, pretty little elf bitch, and show you what you're missing?"

Yasha stopped, an ice-cold smile on her face, as she turned to look at him through the bars, the troll obviously uneducated as to the Threatbinder attired. "Why don't I show you why you're lucky there's bars between us?" she said, contorting her fingers into one shape, a second, and then a third, as the troll suddenly gasped in sharp pain.

The spell in question had caused a magical rope to form and tie around the base of the troll's cock and was pulling tight, forcing the flesh inward, constricting it until the troll was whimpering in pain, having fallen to his knees. She'd chosen a thicker cord, because anything too thin would have sliced the troll's penis off immediately, like a garrote castrating him instead of choking him.

"If I wanted to," she said to him through the bars. "I could pull the rope tight enough to pop your useless member off like a pimple. Then I could force you to eat that flesh in front of your peers while my husband seared the wound closed so you wouldn't bleed to death. Is that what you think you're missing?"

The troll's face had turned a dark color, both in pain and fear, as he looked like he was about to go into shock. He shook his head, unable to bring forth any words at all. For a moment, Arkady himself wasn't sure if his wife was going to pop the troll's dick right off, but she eventually flicked her fingers away and the cord vanished as the troll suddenly gasped for air like he'd been drowning.

"Keep in mind, friend," Yasha said to the doubled over troll. "This wasn't even in the top one hundred meanest things I could have done to you. So show a little respect."

The inmates in the nearby cells jeered and laughed at the troll until Yasha turned her gaze upward, and they all fell silent, afraid she would turn her wrath upon them, which make Arkady smirk just a little bit, as they started walking again.

"She can be mean when she wants to," Sophia whispered to him.

"Never unwarranted, though," he replied.

The rest of their walk was unmolested, something Arkady took note of. Word spread fast in this prison, which meant that tales his wife's confrontation with the brute were already reaching the lowest floor before they'd even arrived at the warden's office.

The warden, it seems, had taken what must have been the master bedroom as his office, as the room itself was large, and contained everything of the warden's in one place - both office and bedroom, as the desk was the most prominent thing in the front of the room, but in the back, a spartan like bed could also be seen. There was more than enough space in the room for all of it, with a high vaulted ceiling, the top of it clearly exposed to the exterior, as light filled the room warmly.

"Ah, mages," the warden said from behind his desk. He was a Rathkin, a large humanoid race of bipedal lizards covered in deep green scales. Those less traveled often mistook them for small dragons upon first sight, but Rathkin had no wings, could not breath fire and never grew all that much bigger than an ogre or troll. This Rathkin had a pair of spectacles on his face, and was dressed much more formally than the guards, who wore somewhat ramshackle uniforms. "Excellent. Excellent indeed. I hope that your appearance here is in response to the flag we raised?"

"It is, Warden..." his wife said, fishing for the Rathkin's name.

"Warden Ziroh, at your service," he said, standing to offer them a little bow. "And you might be?"

"Threatbinder Yasha Summervale, twelfth rank. This is my husband, Threadbinder Arkady Gormansson, eighth rank. And this is our companion, Sophia Burngrave," Yasha said, finishing their introductions. "We were flying by and saw your flag asking for help. How can we be of service?"

"Flying by?" the warden said, seeming a little ruffled. "You don't travel by dragon, do you?"

"Don't be silly," the dwarf laughed. "No no, we have a griffon friend who offers us transportation in exchange for being cared for. It's an arrangement that's suited all parties quite well."

"Ah. Yes. I see. Or, rather, I don't, but it isn't any of my concern," the Rathkin said. "My concern is that I have had a couple of prisoners turn up overly dead. Now now, I know what you are going to say, that deaths in a prison are a commonplace occurrence and no reason to be raising flags asking for aid, but it is the manner in which they have been turning up dead that has me concerned. Might I show you one of the corpses?"

"Of course," Yasha told him, as the warden moved to lead them out of the offices and head down a nearby set of stairs. "By couple do you mean actual two, or has there been more?"

"Five, all said and done, and all in the same manor," the Rathkin said, leading them all the way from the top floor of the prison down to the basement. "I have some experience with magical combat, and while I suppose it is possible that the deaths could've been caused by a particular gifted caster, it seems unlikely that they were. For the first couple, I was willing to write them off as nothing more than the cost of doing business, but now, on our fifth corpse, I consider the matter an affront to the way I maintain my prison."

Arkady noticed that there were plenty of guards stationed all around the prison, and that several of them were low-level casters, Fire Flingers or Spark Spartans, but none of them with any real rank of distinction. He suspected that having magical defenses in a hall of monsters and criminals such as this could come in handy.

As they moved into what the dwarf guessed was their morgue, the warden waved to an older looking dwarf sitting high atop a chair, looking down onto a table with a desiccated body resting on it. "They here to fix this mess?" the dwarf said to the warden.

"One would certainly hope so," the warden replied. "Doctor Arvansson, this is Threatbinder Yasha, Threadbinder Arkady and their companion, Sophia." Arkady noted with some small amount of amusement that even though he was being introduced to another dwarf, his wife's profession still took prominence in order of introductions.

"What do you have, Doctor?" Yasha said, walking over towards the bodies.

"Not entirely certain," he said, poking at the corpse in front of him with a thin metal rod. "They've all been like this, completely drained of water, and done so in a very short amount of time. The bodies have shown up only a few hours after the person in question's gone missing, and there does not seem to be any other form of wound or damage on them."

"No bite marks? No scratches?" his wife asked the other dwarf.

"None that I've been able to see, but the lack of hydration means the bodies have contracted significantly, so it means external wounds are much more difficult to spot and identify," the dwarf told them. "No commonality between the victims, either. One male troll, one male ogre, one female human, one female ogre and one female Rathkin, which you see before you."

"Wait, that's a Rathkin?" Sophia said. "How can you even tell?"

"There's some scaling here and there that's left, and the body hasn't shrunk nearly as much as, say, the humans have. The human body has a much higher concentration of water in it than the Rathkins do, although not quite as high as an ogre does. Our two ogre fatalities we had to identify on head count, the corpses were so unrecognizable."

"Good gods," Sophia said. "What could do such a thing?"

"I'm not entirely certain," Arkady said.

"I might have an idea," Yasha said, "although if it is, we're lucky you're here, my dear husband. Tell me about the expansion you've been doing to the prison."

The warden looked over in surprise. "I wasn't aware that was common knowledge."

"It isn't," Arkady said, "but the two dwarves you hired to do some of your work ran into me in a bar, and you know that there are no secrets between dwarves over drinks."

Everyone laughed a little at that, and the warden nodded. "Understandable. Yes, well, because we cannot build outward, the only possible way for us to add more to the prison is to go further into the interior of the mountain, so a few years ago, we hired a team of dwarven miners to tunnel and clear out portions of the back walls, giving us room to expand."

"They stumbled into some tunnels, didn't they?"

"How...?" the warden said before stopping. "They did. There were some chambers that had been walled off quite some time ago. The structure had several rooms which the dwarves just discovered while expanding for us, and a couple of them had long and winding tunnels attached to them that run deep into the earth, far below the mountain. We haven't explored them thoroughly yet, as it seems they run for ages, but the dwarves noticed a definite difference between the rooms and the tunnels, in that the rooms themselves seemed more in line with the existing construction of the prison and the tunnels were smoothed and more organic." He paused a little, looking over at the mages questioningly. "Does that mean something to you?"