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Road to Reclamation [Closed/One-off story] - Printable Version

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Road to Reclamation [Closed/One-off story] - Ashe - 01-18-2016

A gavel hit the podium with such force, it jerked Asheloux awake from his standing stupor. It had probably only been an hour or so, but Asheloux started falling asleep during the trial which only made it seem like hours. He stared up at the inquisitor with blank eyes and his gaze swept the other, younger ones. Ones who seemed very discontent with whatever he slept through. Or maybe they were upset that he had managed to fall asleep standing on the podium. This was his second time in the tribunal. His first arrest had never made it that far. His uncle stood off to the side with a hardened look on his face. The old man looked at his nephew with a disapproving gaze. Asheloux looks back at him and just shakes his head and then looks back at the inquisitor.

“Asheloux Haton, you have been put before us not once, not twice…but three times now—“

“Two,” Asheloux cut the man off. “It’s only been two.”

The old inquisitor rolled his eyes and jabbed an accusing finger at the young criminal,

“You’ve had charges brought against you three times,” The man continued, rather irritated, “two for heresy. One, this time, for ignoring orders.” he said, his eyebrows creasing, “While you have escaped the Witch Drop this time and you have shown some sense of loyalty, according to the Lord Commander, judgment must be past.”

Asheloux looked at the Inquisitor expectantly, ignoring the gallery surrounding them,

“That would be…?”

“You and your family will be barred from military advancement and advisory rolls and your position will be stripped until you hand over the missing books and your…prototype.” The Inquisitor said, the gavel hit the stand again.

A loud murmur immediately cut through the gallery as the lenient judgment was passed. Heads turned to each other as outraged muttering could be distinctly heard. Asheloux looked over to his uncle in the spectators stands. The old man seemed somewhat relieved but anger was still set in his features. The younger inquisitors in the gallery looked to each other, whispering. Asheloux paid no mind to any of it. He had some thinking to do.



——————


A hand struck Asheloux hard across the face and his eye immediately started to water from the stinging bite. 

“First you murder my son and now you ruin my family?!” His uncle, Oscarlet shouted as people walked by, “You are to return the books to The See and hand over your prototype at once! How dare you keep your research a secret, even to me!” 

“Uncle, I don’t have the books. As for the prototype, as a scientist, I didn’t think it was ethical to just—“

“What do you know about ethical?” The old man seethes, “Your cousin, my son…he did great things for this nation. And what do you do? You off and behead him in front of the entire tribunal like he was some kind of animal!” 

Asheloux raised an eyebrow,

“If you knew half of what he did to me, you’d see eye to eye with me on what I did.”

The old man grabs Asheloux by the the collar and pulls him closer to him,

“You, my boy, are the only heir I have left. You are just like your father—a disgrace!” Ashelou’x face grew pale, “All you need to do is get married and keep this line going. You are not needed for anything else. You have one week to hand over what is needed or I swear I’ll—“

“Disown me?” Asheloux cut him off, “I am your last heir.” He says pointedly.

“You will hand over whatever The See asks for,” his uncle said swiftly and moves away. 

Asheloux turned on his heels and heads out of the Tribunal and down the stairs. He shivered in the cool Ishgardian wind and scowled as he raises a hand to his ear,

“Adeya, I need those books from Solenne…she should have passed them to Michaux,” He sneezed, “I also need to hand over my prototype to The See. That Dragoon blabbed about everything!”

A voice crackles over the pearl,

“I know. But I haven’t been able to get ahold of her via linkpearl. And I don’t know where she lives, and I’m not going knocking on every door in Gridania. Odds are I’d get thrown into a gaol…And do you need me to bring it you?”

A handful of footsteps could be heard behind him as he passes under a tunneled bridge. He stops walking briefly and the footsteps stop with him. He continued slowly along the path,

“I have about a week to do it so I’ll come back and drop it—“ Heavy footsteps descend upon him, 

“I think someone’s following me, I’ll—“ A blinding white crack shatters his vision and he fell like a sack of bricks, “Shit…” he mutters, landing on his side.

Dazed and confused, his half opened eyes search his surroundings. There were boots walking near his face and hands grabbing at him.

“Help carry him.”

“Hurry, before someone comes.”

A young Ishgardian male appeared in his field of view, staring him in the eyes as he slowly drifted close.

“No one is going to care if a traitor goes missing for a little while.


————————


The splashing of ice cold water seeping through him jolted him wide awake. He hurriedly glanced around in what looked to be some noble’s cellar. There was a dull throbbing in the base of his skull where he had been so firmly hit on the head. He moved to check his wounds but found that he could not. He was seated in a chair with his hands tied firmly to it. ‘Not this again…’ he thinks to himself, faced with three Elezen young men around his age, ‘At least it’s not a cave,’ he sighs heavily and shakes his head and one of the young men kicks him in the stomach. He coughed, gritting his teeth as he fights the searing pain.

“Damnit…” he chokes, “You three are from the Inquisitors stand at the trial,” he observed dryly, 
“Aren’t you a little old for this?” He chides.

With a sharp crack, the leader of the three punched him squarely in the jaw.

“The Tribunal let you off easy again,” The leader, a tall, sharp nosed and pale Elezen close to Asheloux’s age started. He had annoying piercing gray eyes that were somehow irritating to look at, “You plan to behave again, too? And what. Clean your shite-stained name once more?

“So…you heard my conversation over the linkpearl?” Asheloux asked, his eye blank from emotion as he stares at the man, “Isn’t it easier for you?”

Another kick to the gut and Asheloux retched, coughing until he nearly vomited on himself, 

“You’re…really not creative…with this torture,” he laughed.

One of the elezen on the side stepped forward. His white hair was bound up with a loop,

“You would know, wouldn’t you? I wonder what else you’ve gotten away with!” He sneered, taking out a small dagger from his waist, “I wonder if you even bleed…you monster.”

“Yeah…not creative…” Asheloux said dully, “So,” He started, trying to sit up despite the new bruises forming on his stomach, “If you kill me, you will lose your positions…this doesn’t really seem to be all that productive—“

There were another flurry of punches to the face and the sharp stinging of cut skin can be felt as that knife tears open his finely tailored black shirt. “This shirt…was a gift…” he heaved, trying to catch his breath and stay awake through the pain. Another slice is felt and another punch and more blood.

One of the young men whistled in appraisal,

“So he does bleed!”

“But what’s with the scars?” The third one finally chimes in.

“Maybe it was like that. He was adopted after all. You never know what a Bastard would do to be recognized,” the leader sneered.

Asheloux glared at the three of them when suddenly his expression changed to somewhat of a shock. They had left the linkpearl in his ear and Asheloux could hear two voices over it as the bored nobles spoke amongst themselves. 

‘…I don’t see snow! Only my tears!’ a drunken familiar voice cries over the linkpearl and Asheloux frowns though he ends up stifling a laugh,

“That idiot…” he mutters in reaction to Soren’s voice over the linkpearl. 

Another flurry of punches connected with him for that, and he continued to hear the drunken banter over the linkpearl in his ear until he was half conscious and in too much pain to care much anymore. The leader lifted Asheloux’s head by his hair to look him in the eye, 

“We will pass judgment on your ourselves.”

“We can’t kill him though…” The third and youngest of them chimed in.

“That’s okay, we’ll throw his body in the Brume. The rats down there will finish him off for us…” 




[[OOC NOTE: I suck at torturing my own character...it's mostly just a way to transition into something that is about to start...I am bored and drunk and wrote something...]]