Tome of Ilthran: The barracks

FEATURED CHARACTER(S): Ilthran Resphin, Monzor Qain (Guard captain of Baltso Fortress), guards
CONTENT WARNING(S): MxM, emotional abuse, bullying, Military
PROMPT/LOCATIONS: [Past event] : Baltso Fortress : citizens Residence - Ilthran's home, the barracks

With the guard captain leaving, Ilthran stood alone in the corridor. In the distance, he could hear a pile of materials that had previously caught fire and drenched with a cup of water, fall to the floor with a thud. It had cooled down during their conversation. The metallic sound echoed through the empty rooms, but not a sound reached the elf his ears. His eyes were wide open and the feelings of both excitement and devastation began to mix in an ugly mixture of stress.

His pulse trembled through his person, it was heard in his ear like the sounds of war drums. His body seemed to ready itself for war to come and to fight for the life that was held in its vessel, but there was no battle to fight. The threat, it is long gone. Minutes passed in which he stood still. Merely, to catch his breath in a situation he cannot control.

Ilthran rose his head and peered through the small window that was positioned close to his front door. Too high for a view on the street, but it allowed direct vision to the sky. The light shone down in his eyes. The elf shut his eyes with a loud exhale.

“What will become of me next?” He could hear his own voice speak. Then he blinked and turned his head to the side, toward the room from which he came, before that man robbed him of a kiss.

Forced by the indeclinable offer he had made. To kiss, or to perish. The magician grit his teeth and pulled his fingers together in each hand to form a fist. The thoughts were haunting his mind, hunting and feeding on each bit of positivity that came up, like a predator.

“I have not a choice. I either run, far from here, away from the debt that I have. Pray for them not to find me, an elf with the hair color that is easy to spot among a sea of humans.” He grunted. A frown cut deeply within his forehead, folding the skin with its tension. He let his sleeve wipe his mouth. “What’s with that kiss? Is he testing me? Is this common? … Could he be mocking me?” Ilthran let his foot stomp the ground, and dismissed the thoughts that came to mind. Concluding that it is too soon to make a single statement.

Whichever it is, this is an opportunity for a brighter future, and that is all which mattered in that moment. The elf took a swift turn into the room and cleaned the mess. Sorting each magic item and the necessary materials for each spell religiously in the corresponding spot within his shelves. On a list, located close to these, he marked the missing materials, and ones necessary for the next test.

After its completion, the elf let his quiver fall and roll in place. Allowing the sound of its metal that dropped onto the wooden surface, function as a signal for himself to realize that work is done. The ink that was still present splattered onto the desk, but since the male was used to this occurrence, he simply wiped it off with a small cloth located not far from its destination.

. . .

The day resumed. Uneventful, at that, until Ilthran brought himself to bed.

Candles were illuminating the room with its dim, warm light. It seemed comforting in this moment. The room, it was serene in nature. Quiet, comfortable, and warm.

His gray eyes met the sight of the ceiling once the perfect position was found beneath the sheets. Scenes of the recent past came up in his mind, the words this man had spoken were on repeat. It was all that was heard in the void of his mind. It was like a dark, blank space that held only a position for these elements to be shown and heard. Much like a fever dream, the moment Ilthran had wanted to quit the thoughts and resume thinking about something else, they would continue playing without permission. Haunting.

He squeezed his eyes shut. The accompanying scenes were shown, the words, his lips that pronounced each of these, the elf could vividly remember. The tone with which that man spoke, confusing in its every breath of a break before the next word would follow. That arrogance in his voice. That smile he carried before he left through the door. That man, he knew that he had Ilthran right where he wanted to have him. Locked down, checkmate. Like in a game of chess. Surrounded, like a King with nowhere to go. Knights, towers, bishops, each would hold their weapon in his direction. No way out. Surrender.

. . .

The night resumed. Eventually, the elf managed to get some rest, but it was far from enough to function as desired at the job. To meet a man of his position within the barracks, a place where knights and guards alike would train. He could only hope for the place to hold clear signs of where to find him, an elf looking for advice in a place where humans roam? That is like asking for trouble.

The magician rose up from his comfortably warm sheets and slipped inside his attire. His routine followed, a cup of tea, some breakfast, a chapter of his book during these, and he is ready to go. He slapped his book shut and got up from his seat.

The sun brought light to the day. Dawn has come, the early hour is when he was requested to show up at the office, and so he kept his word.

The door opened, and it shut behind him. With a clicking sound, he locked its passage and he was embraced by the cool air of the surroundings, which wind rushed through the residential area. Chatter was heard in the distance, but no person was in sight. The wind allowed many more noises be heard, and the senses to be fooled by unexpected volume with which they came.

The barracks. That’s where I must go. Ilthran reminded himself.

He sighed, and brought his feet in motion toward the location. He passed through various of narrow paths that made up the alleyways. Most dangerous during the deepest of nights, but they allow safe passage during the day time with eyes that can pierce through various levels of darkness.

. . .

There he stood. The building that seems most cursed all of a sudden, now more than ever. There is a man inside that is likely to treat him poorly, but he holds the potential keys to his fate. Ilthran took a deep breath and opened up its large gate by its rusty, metal rings.

Inside, he was revealed with the sound of distant, instrumental music and a mixed amount of chatter. Laughter was heard, and the sound of cutlery hitting various of plates echoed through the cold, stone walls that made up each, separate room. It wasn't much warmer here than outside, but the eyes are fooled by its interior that granted the calmth of candle light, originated from the chandeliers. They hung down from the ceiling wielding a number of candles. There were also some torches that hung from the sides by a metal chain at a number of walls. It fooled one to believe that it is indeed warmer inside, than it is outside.

The elf took an additional amount of steps, letting the large doors fall shut behind him to keep that fake warmth where it belonged.

“Oh, a visitor? This early?” An unfamiliar, male voice sounded from the other room. Ilthran gulped. They have spotted me, quick!

He straightened his posture, fixed his collar and put up a stern expression. It was perfectly timed before one of the guardsman came jogging from the room that may function as their canteen.

“Oh? I don’t know you? Are you from here?”

Two other guards peeked from beneath the man’s back, before they made themselves shown. “Oh isn’t that this Resphin? You know, the people often complain about that person. I seriously thought it was a guy.” The raven haired man mumbled, causing a wave of anger to wash over the elf that stood in the distance. Observed and judged like the characters of a puppet show at the markets to entertain their youngsters. Rude. It makes sense that the guards are just average people, whose job requirements had little to do with intelligence. Ilthran suppressed the urge to comment their nonsense and stepped forth.

“Hold up, where do you think you're going?” The blond guard of the three grumbled and took a stance midway the corridor to block his path.

“I have an appointment with mister Qain in the morning, I need to find his office.” Ilthran wished to avoid any commotion, or a poorer reputation than he already seemed to have.

“It IS a guy?!” The raven haired guard noticed from behind the brunette. “So it is true? I wouldn’t have guessed with that long hair and the baby face.” The third man, who hadn’t spoken up until now, slapped his forehead with disbelief. A brunette. “Listen Athrin, he’s an elf, they tend to physically age slower than us. I have told you about them the other day, do you ever attend any lectures?”

“Dammit, Pashen, I have more things to do than to listen to you ramble about your little dove at the park!” Athrin barked back, throwing hands toward the other man, who caught his with ease. “How dare you speak ill about Phionah, she is the most beautiful elvish woman I had ever spoken to!”

The blond rolled his eyes in the direction of the bickering two, before his attention was back at Ilthran. “Excuse those two. What’s your business with the guard captain?” His feet stood firmly onto the ground, and the human seemed unwilling to move, unless answered to.

The elf let his gaze travel from one person to the next, until he made eye contact with the one that spoke to him. Before Ilthran could speak, however, a familiar voice sounded in the back. “He’s with me, let him through.” The sound of metal came closer. The steps of a heavier person neared the three guards and eventually pushed them aside. It was that tall guard captain.

“I’m glad you came, Resphin.” He smiled over to the smaller elf in the distance. There was no odd tone to his voice, and his smile seemed genuine. Ilthran returned a forced smile. A sense of dread was getting to him for a reason he couldn’t tell. He stepped closer, regardless of his bodily warnings. “I do keep my word.” He confirmed.

Curious eyes peeked from the smile of the significantly taller human man, who was completely clad in armor. His short hair seemed perfectly styled, as if he made himself ready for a date of some sort. And Ilthran could swear that there was a faint scent of perfume on his person as well as he neared the man who gestured him closer.

The guardsmen returned to the canteen after a sincere apology to their guard captain, and with them gone, the path was free. “Follow me, Resphin.” Monzor's voice sounded, before a swift turn took place. A target for him to follow through these long, lone corridors.

It was like a labyrinth within this place. Many rooms for storage, training halls, and various rooms for rest. This is where they train and live. Banners hung from the walls that represent the emblem of the city for which they fight. Decorative weapons, more torches, and a few trophies of their hunts. A building this large may not be as inviting for the new recruits. To find one’s way here, Ilthran concluded that a person would need a map. Merely for navigation.

The magician didn’t exactly have the best endurance when it came to exercise, and it did already feel like exercise, merely to keep up with the pace of this man in front of him. Exhaustion came with every couple of steps. Until finally, they paused in front of an open door. They hadn’t taken many turns within the building either. It was a delight that he may be able to find this office by the next time.

“This is it. You will be sharing this office with me. So, come in now~”

Monzor's blue eyes were resting on that of Ilthran, in a way that gave him the creeps. He simply nodded it off and stepped inside, when the other behaved like a gentleman for him to enter first. The door behind them fell shut. Trapped again, was he?

“Take a seat, Resphin.” Two desks were positioned right next to each other in the room. Each had a chair on both sides. Two visitors could sit here, and today, Ilthran had taken that position. The guard captain skillfully walked around the desk to find his way onto the opposite seat behind the desk.

With a screeching sound, he moved the chair closer, and with a thud, his elbow was resting on the surface to hold the bearded man his jaw. “So, have you come here to claim your position within the guardsmen as my right hand man? Or are you here to change your mind?”

This felt like an important moment. In this very second, he could still change his mind, still escape the city and make his getaway. There is hope, but that may as well result in certain death on his way out.

The magician swallowed the dryness of his throat away with a layer of saliva. He blinked a few times, squinting his eyes to adjust to the light within the room. It had many windows, unlike the corridors. It felt confrontational to sit on this chair, similarly as if taken to a room for interrogation. This place, it had a strange atmosphere, on which he couldn’t quite define.

“I am here … To … Accept the position, and with that, your offer.” Ilthran managed. The elf felt the regret in his every limb and cell of his body. Even the stress levels within his system warned him not to, but the young man refused to listen. He had to play it safe, for now.

The man on the other side of the desk grimaced. “You do know what it means to be with the guards, do you not?” The blond leaned in, narrowing his eyes for better focus on the green haired individual in front of him.

Ilthran eyed him back curiously, with a hint of suspicion. “Do tell me what it means.”

The guard captain started humming, letting his back fall backwards against the large chair. It seemed like a throne in this moment, and his long, black cape reminded Ilthran of a King. It disgusted him. The dramatic light from the windows that cast a shadow onto the male’s features, making him look far more sinister than he already did. Then he registered Monzor's voice reach out to him.

“You do as I say. No more magical inventions or experiments. You cast the spells that I tell you to cast. You follow each of our orders, that of mine, and a selective few, without question.” His blue eyes rested on a piece of paper in front of him. It seemed like a letter from a distance.

Monzor reached for his quiver and dipped it in the ink, before holding it in Ilthran’s direction. “Sign this with your full name.” The letter in question was moved in the elf’s direction as well. Unlike it seemed, it was a contract. Unusual for guards, but necessary for the one in front of him. It rose additional suspicion on Ilthran’s side.

The elf reached for the quiver that was held in his direction and he took a hold of the contract to read it. Handwritten by a man that wrote unclear. Some of the words, he couldn’t make out what it was nor meant. They seemed to hold a custom meaning, none of anything he had seen. Even after many of his books. With insecurity, the elf looked up from the contract with questioning eyes. He was returned a frown.

“What’s wrong? Do you struggle to read our commonly spoken language, Resphin?” A sinister smile played on the man’s lips. “You can read, can you not?”

With frustration, the elf had his eyes back onto the contract. He tried to decipher the unreadable words through the construction of the sentences. With this, he managed to translate a few, however the others remained unreadable.

A sigh left his lips. Then he signed it with his name and returned the paper. He gave up on it, and had no time for further confrontation. “Excellent.” The sinister smile seemed to adapt to a more grateful one. If anything, he looked like a whole different person in this moment.

“Thank you for signing it. I will await you tomorrow again in this office, I take it that you’ll be able to find it. And if not, you’re now one of us, and each of us will gladly assist you. We must now take care of some preparations. You see, I can’t be too certain, I do want to give you a chance to change that mind of yours. Our deal is now sealed in a more official way than what we had.” Monzor Qain winked at Ilthran, who only experienced disgust in return.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, not to any of this. His freedom was taken from him. His passion for magic robbed away through a simple sheet of paper. It could be burned and broken if he willed it so, but with those piercing blue eyes of his on him, he was rendered useless.

“Resphin.” A commanding voice sounded all of a sudden. Ilthran jumped in his chair. His train of idle thoughts broken by the volume. “Can I expect you tomorrow in my office again, or not? I am speaking to you, and I demand confirmation.” Sheepishly the elf nodded.

A slam on the desk followed. “Say, yes sir.”

Ilthran shut his eyes, frowning as he did, and obediently repeated after the man.
“Yes, sir!”