He turned down a staircase that descended for a short eternity. When the end finally came, Shalise found herself in the dungeonyest dungeon that she could imagine.
The upstairs castle proper had smooth bricks laid in neat, straight lines. All the bricks in the walls and floor were flush with one another. The ceiling had a smooth arch carved into it for some added height.
Ever since their initial trek through the castle, warm torches popped up periodically along hallways to lend their light. It was much better than the drab and uniform lighting arrangement that had seemingly permeated the entire place upon their arrival.
The elegant murals, paintings, and statues just added to the regal atmosphere of the castle.
Though she could definitely get by just fine without seeing the ones of her.
At first, Prax flew into a rage every time he saw one–given that they were everywhere, that ended up being more often than not. He went around smashing a few hundred of the golden statues and tearing down even more paintings. They always returned undamaged the moment he took his eyes off of them.
Eventually, Prax had decided to give up on that fruitless endeavor. He still glared at them–especially the ones of himself–every time he walked past one. Most of his time ended up with his eyes closed, concentrating in an attempt to escape Shalise’s body.
But the dungeon he had taken them to was anything but regal or elegant. The walls were less smooth bricks and more cobblestone and mortar slapped together. Particularly jagged cobblestone at that. Prax actually let out a cough as he walked through strands of white nitre hanging off the ceiling.
And the lighting. It was a good thing Prax knew where he was headed because there was the single torch at the base of the stairs and nothing else. It was probably meant to be carried along to the destination, but Prax had ignored it.
Before long, Shalise couldn’t see anything but vague silhouettes of the walls and floor. And the almost glowing nitre spider-webbing across the ceiling.
Prax’s footfalls steadily tapped against the floor alongside a faint dripping noise at the edges of her sense of hearing. He went left at the first corner, then took a right before stopping in front of a wood door.
The rotten wood of the door leaked light through small holes. Not much light. Barely enough to see that the door was made of wood.
When Prax pushed open the door, she saw the reason for the dim light. The large room was lit by a mere two torches. Both torches looked like they were on their last legs. The flames were small and dim, flickering in the room.
Shalise gave a short mental sigh. It set the perfect atmosphere for what the room was.
“At least this hasn’t changed much.”
Prax strode through the room, gently caressing various tools and implements that Shalise was trying hard to ignore. It was a bit difficult when he started holding some of the rusted iron in front of his face.
“I do.”
“Not a damn thing,” he said as he set down one object and picked up another.
“You are noisy for a servant. Cheeky too. I am hoping that something, or somethings, here will curtail that negative trait of your despicable personality.”
With every word he spoke, Shalise felt a sinking feeling in her metaphysical stomach.
Combined with the emotional bleed-over from Prax, Shalise had the odd sensation of being eager and happy about what could only be her own impending torture while still forcing herself to be disgusted, angry, and afraid.
“I know,” he said. “That just means I will have to be creative.”
He pulled out a thick rod from a long box and looked it over once or twice. “Should be fun. Besides, any proper servant knows how to torture their master’s enemies. I have always been a believer in teaching by experience.”
Shalise’s mind went into absolute nope mode. She did not want that rod anywhere near her body. The entire end of it, some sort of magic circle much like the one she had drawn on her chest, was glowing white-hot. Hot enough that she could feel the heat even through her diluted senses.
Something snapped in her mind. Only a vague awareness of her surroundings bled through. There was a crash followed by a shout from Prax.
The shouting turned into a constant stream of anger-speak. Nothing intelligible.
As Shalise’s mind sharpened, it didn’t take long to figure out what he was complaining about
