mindcracklove | Divided by Hostilities (Chapter 27)

Here's the chapter, finally. We now get to see what Zisteau was doing all this time. Sorry it's so late, but it's extra long, and the next one is too! (and it might be coming sooner than you expect :3)

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16

Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Zisteau took a step back, hitting the stone wall. He was completely trapped. He looked at the creature again, the green of its eyes taunting him.
They look just like Aureylian’s eyes.
Zisteau shook his head, dislodging the thought. He wondered about Aureylian, hoping the dragon had flown her and the others back to safety. He could not forgive it for leaving him, though. The creature took another step.
“Wait,” Zisteau said. He needed to know. “The thing you said about my… my soul? What happened, and why. Please. Don’t kill me, I need to know.”
The creature stopped. “You try to distract me,” it said. “You try to make me talk so you can figure out a way to escape while I'm distracted. I am not as gullible as you humans are.”
“I need to know. Please.”
The creature blew hot breath from its nose. “The book- no.”
“What book?” Zisteau asked. The way the creature had stopped itself piqued his interest.
You need the book. It contains the information you seek.
Zisteau felt the fleeting return of a memory before it left again just as quickly.
“I must know. Then you may kill me.”
The creature approximated a sigh again, but Zisteau saw something in its eyes. The creature did love to talk, did love to watch the reactions when it told stories. Sure enough, it began to speak.
“When one takes power from another, there must always be an exchange,” it said. “You could not transfer your powers to me without me giving something in return. That is why, when your powers flowed into me that day, I felt something of myself leave me and become part of you. I was delighted, as not only did I have these new powers, but I had corrupted a child destined to be king. With my wicked soul within him, imagine what damage a king could cause to the world.”
Zisteau nodded weakly. “Why do you like to cause pain so much?”
“It is fun.”
Zisteau hid his surprise at the brevity of the creature’s answer. About to say something, he was interrupted when the creature continued.
“You did cause so much havoc, Zisteau. You made enemies of King Guude and all his men, didn’t you? You waged war on that pitiful kingdom many times. I have been so pleased with you. Not only that, but you alienated much of your own kingdom. Nearly everybody hates you. Even my own dragon, whom I shall have to kill, did not rescue you. You are trapped here by your own actions, and I am pleased with you.”
Zisteau clenched his fists to numb the feeling of weakness. He knew everything the damned creature said was true, and that hurt the most. He had done so many terrible things that his life wasn’t worth anything to anyone, and it was his own fault that he was going to die.
“You are regretful now,” the creature said darkly. “You think that you have made mistakes. Why do you think this, Zisteau?”
“I have done bad things with no reason,” Zisteau admitted, trembling. “I have.”
The creature laughed – Zisteau hated that laugh now, how it celebrated evil deeds as if they were joyful acts – and said, “I am pleased with that too. Aside from the wars, you have hurt people other ways; your lovely attempt to burn down Guude’s city, for example, that didn’t go terribly well but it hurt the owner of that butchery; your attempts at imprisoning anybody and everybody, starting with those men you accused of being spies; everything you have done has had an effect on somebody else’s life. Isn’t that beautiful?”
“This is your fault,” Zisteau said. “I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t want to…”
“Are you sure about that?” the creature asked. “Are you sure you don’t love hurting people? Destruction? Death?” It paused. “Blood?”
“No,” Zisteau said. He was shaking. “I don’t.”
It seemed to become enraged quickly now, rearing its head up and growling in its throat. “You took the gift I gave you, you used it, and now what? Now you reject the corruption in your heart? You do not appreciate the beauty of power.”
Zisteau was still shaking. “What gift? You took power from me. Power I could have used for good. You gave me nothing but your evil soul. I don’t want to be this way. I don’t.”
The creature’s voice suddenly changed, shifting again to a mellower, yet dangerous tone. “I shall offer you a choice, Zisteau. You will only have one chance to choose. Either you go back to your world, regain the trust of your men, rebuild your kingdom bigger and better, and overthrow Guude. You will continue creating beautiful, terrible destruction there, and I will be pleased. Or, I kill you.”
“Some choice,” Zisteau muttered. He realised the implications of the ‘choice’ he’d been offered. Kill or be killed. This was not the way he wanted to go out. He had to act quickly.
Zisteau pulled out his sword, rushing forwards. He didn’t care if this killed him, but he was not ready to go out without at least trying. Holding the sword high above his head, he ran to the only part of the creature he could even attempt to hit – its great front paw that rested on the ground. Before the creature could react to move, he brought the sword down as hard as he could into the top of the creature’s paw.
Zisteau was a strong man. The sword drove into the creature’s flesh, about a foot of sword disappearing under the skin. The creature roared, lifting its foot. Zisteau found himself excited to see a bubble of dark blood welling up from the wound. His sword was lodged in the creature’s paw, though, and Zisteau could see it shimmering and melting through the heat. The creature roared again. Zisteau was surprised that he was even able to hurt it. The creature was coming for him, though, and Zisteau had to get away – adrenaline coursed through his blood and told him to run in an arc around the creature. Following the curved wall of the cavern, Zisteau ran, watching the creature turn towards him laboriously. That was its weakness, Zisteau noted. The creature was large, which gave it strength and power, but also made it hard to turn in the small space. Its wounded front foot caught on the cave wall and felled a section of rocks, which crashed to the ground.
Zisteau was feeling confident now. Running faster than the creature could turn, he tried to get his head in order so he could plan his next move. Swordless, he would have to use a different weapon – he had a bow on him, and a water bucket. The water could be useful, Zisteau thought, wondering what might happen if he used it to extinguish the flames on the creature’s body. But first…
He was coming around to the back of the cavern now. Pulling out his bow, Zisteau strung an arrow and then stopped moving. Catching his breath for a second, he began running the other way, back around the cavern. The creature stopped, turning its head to try and see Zisteau. Good. He had confused it. Hopefully it would stop moving its head for long enough. Zisteau aimed his bow up and waited and then the creature saw. It locked its eyes on him, an evil spark in them. Zisteau’s heart beat fast, and he ran a little slower. He had only one chance here. If he fucked up the creature would know what he was trying to do. He ran slower again, the creature’s head following him, and now it was almost at the point where it would have to turn its body to keep watching him, and its legs were beginning to move, and he stopped completely and loosed the arrow -
And it flew straight towards the creature’s head, lodging directly in the centre of the creature’s shining right eye.
Zisteau allowed himself a second to celebrate internally before checking to see what the creature would do. It roared as dark blood trickled from the eye, and reached it paw to try and claw at the arrow that stuck out. Zisteau knew perfectly well how the loss of an eye affected vision – the creature would still be able to see, but without depth. It had taken Zisteau years to learn to shoot an arrow accurately, adjusting for the loss of depth perception, and the creature had no time to learn anything. It roared and thrashed its head as Zisteau ran the other way, looking for another opportunity.
The place where the creature’s paw had knocked out some of the wall had created a nice little area that would be easy to climb up. Zisteau quickly decided to try and get up there, then shoot the creature from a high angle when he had the chance. Scrambling up the jagged rocks, he checked behind himself frequently. The creature was still in pain, still thrashing its head. Zisteau kept climbing, and saw the exit to the cavern just above him. If he could just get in there, he would have a perfect place to hit the creature from above. Cutting his knees on the broken rocks, Zisteau reached up and hauled himself towards the small tunnel. Good. He was relatively safe now, but the creature could still see him. The creature was making a lot of noise, hitting its limbs and tail against the walls. It was only now that Zisteau realised that it was doing this on purpose. Even the pain of an arrow to the eye could not induce such a racket. What was it doing? Zisteau watched in awe and fear at the creature’s wild movements, now stomping on the floor of the cavern with force.
And then he felt it – a rumbling beneath the ground that brought something terrible back. He knew what this was. He had felt this before, the source of all his pain and worry, the death of his people… the confusion a baby feels at the destruction of his home. Crawling weakly higher into the tunnel, Zisteau felt the rumbling grow stronger. He peeked back down into the cavern to see the creature. It had stopped moving, and was now quite calm, despite the rocking ground. It was relaxed, sitting in the cavern with a sense of… triumph in its eye. Zisteau trembled, and it was not because of the trembling ground. He gripped a nearby jutting rock in fear, unsure what to do. He had to get out of that tunnel. He began to crawl up the shuddering rocks, but slipped and fell, scraping his forearms. With a grimace of pain, he hauled himself up the violently shaking tunnel. Clearly the creature’s thrashing has triggered something deep within the ground. Zisteau reached the top of the tunnel, leading into the previous cavern where a deep pool of that strange lava lay. His vision blurred with the shaking, and he struggled to keep a grip as rocks crumbled and rolled down the tunnel. As he tried to stand up, slipping on the vehement earth, something overcame him. The terrible force pushed him to the ground and heat seemed to envelop him, and he felt his vision leaving as it succumbed to blackness.

Zisteau woke. He was alive, and that was the first thing he noticed. It was a miracle, he thought blindly, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the cavern. He had a headache and was trembling and dizzy, and the entire front of his body felt sore and bruised. Peeling himself up from the rocks, he saw that the other side of the cavern and the tunnel leading up out of it was coated in a hot, thick substance. Drying lava, Zisteau suddenly thought, making the connection. It had blasted up from the pool of lava, out through the tunnel and… where? Out of the mountain? Sick images of people running from the lava flow, something he could remember clearly even though he was a baby at the time, were dancing through his head. It had happened again. The creature had done it, triggering some force below the earth that had pushed the lava out of the caverns and tunnels. The creature! Zisteau peered down the tunnel, craning to see what had happened to it. Maybe it had died, that would be a wonderful thing. He crawled down a little further, trying to stem his shaking so that no rocks or debris would be disturbed. He still couldn’t see the creature. Had it died?
Creeping a little further down, Zisteau craned his neck to see that the creature was still there. Its flames had dulled significantly, making the shape of its body easier to see. It was lying on its side, dead? No – there was a steady rise and fall under its rocky chest, and its uninjured eye was half-open, like a low green crescent moon – it must have been injured badly. Zisteau crept back, afraid. He most wanted to get out of the mountain, but he was not sure if there were still dragons in the upper caverns.
Despite being trapped, he couldn’t help but think of the bleeding, punctured right eye of the creature with triumph.
“You’re like me now,” he hissed under his breath. “You’re like me.”
And then he couldn’t help thinking that the creature had been like him all along, or rather, he had been like the creature. Hungry for destruction, thoughtless, careless - they both had bloody paws, and they were exactly alike. It didn’t matter to Zisteau that he’d been corrupted by that creature because, for no matter what reason, he had killed. His triumphant tone grew solemn as he whispered.
“Oh. Oh my god.”
He thought back to all the pointless battles and campaigns against the king Guude. To what end? Zisteau looked up at the smooth ceiling of the tunnel. He was stuck here. He would have to die in this godforsaken hole. He deserved it, he thought again. Nobody cared enough to rescue him, and that was his fault.
Rolling out of the mire of self-loathing for a second to look back at the creature again – he didn’t know what compelled him, but he needed to keep looking, to keep checking for some reason – Zisteau was tempted to fire again at the creature until it was dead. He couldn’t risk it causing another eruption though, for he wasn’t sure how much more heat he could withstand. Plus, the creature’s green eye was still half-open, and would probably see anything Zisteau tried before he was able to pull it off.
Maybe if he blinded the other eye… Zisteau touched his bow. Too risky. The creature would still be able to create an eruption blind. He didn’t think the creature cared if it was injured at this point – it just wanted to kill Zisteau. He gripped his bow. It was so tempting, so, so tempting. The half-moon glowed too green and too bright. Oh how he wanted to extinguish it… it wasn’t looking at him. Its eye was still open, but its pupil was on something else. Zisteau’s hand itched. He slowly drew the bow up and slotted an arrow into its string, making as little noise as possible. He had to do this.
Drawing the string back, Zisteau moved down in the tunnel until he had a clear line of fire straight to the creature’s eye.
A millisecond before the arrow left the bow, Zisteau knew the mistake he had made. The creature had seen him, and growled to its feet with an effort. Terror struck Zisteau as the arrow hit the creature’s flank, sticking in a little way but doing no damage. The creature locked its eye on Zisteau, and said no words. Zisteau knew to flee. He dropped his bow, turning to scrabble up the tunnel’s slope. The creature’s shuddering footsteps crashed through the cavern. Zisteau grabbed at any crags that his hands landed on, trying to move faster up the tunnel. A loud crash in the entrance of the tunnel startled Zisteau, and he turned back to see the creature’s paw breaking down rocks at the tunnel entrance. His sword still stuck out of the paw, looking like a broken claw. Something came over him and he rushed forward, grabbing the hilt of the sword. He heard the creature roar as he tried to pull out his weapon. It was lodged deep in the creature, almost a part of it now, and Zisteau struggled desperately to pull it out. Suddenly the air left his lungs as he was knocked backwards, the creature’s paw flying forward. Zisteau tried to push himself up as he struggled to breathe. The paw had retreated from the tunnel, but now the creature was hitting both of its forepaws against the tunnel entrance, felling rocks and widening it with each blow.
Zisteau half-crawled, half-ran up the tunnel, pulling himself out at the top where the cooled lava coated every surface of the chamber. The exit from this chamber was high up, and Zisteau could see no way of getting out. The pool of lava blocked the base of the opposite cliff where the exit was. Zisteau cursed. The creature was still breaking through the tunnel trying to make it big enough to get through. Zisteau searched his inventory for a water bucket. He had one! Running to the lava pool, its heat searing his face even from a distance, he carefully poured the water over the lava. It solidified, but not into the hard black obsidian he expected – a thin crust of the same dark material that coated the tunnel and chamber walls formed over the lava. Although he could now get to the far wall, he still had no way of climbing up to the tunnel. He had no ladders or enderpearls, and there were no dragons to rescue him. He looked back at the lower tunnel. A huge paw was scrabbling at the sides of it. The creature was getting closer.
Zisteau looked around frantically. There was nobody to save him, no hero swooping in for him. The only way to get out would be to climb up the near-90 degrees of the cliff. There were some rocks sticking out here and there, but too rarely to serve as good hand and footholds. Zisteau looked back. The creature was still breaking through the rocks of the tunnel, trying to get to him.
Get the book!
Zisteau shook away the thought. The creature had mentioned a book, something that interested him, but he didn’t know where he would find that. Ignoring the niggling voice in the back of his head, he focused back on trying to escape this chamber.
“There he is!”
Zisteau’s head whipped up. The call had echoed around the cavern into his ears, pulling at the last thread of hope he had. A rescue? He remembered the voice faintly, but did not recognise it.
“Hello?” He heard a stupid note of desperation in his voice and the word cracked as it left his mouth.
“Zisteau! It’s your rescue party!”