Chapter 327: Chains and Bad Company

Listair sat in the white hall and decided, yet again, that whoever designed places like this had a particularly black sense of humor.

The restraints on his wrists, elegant and infuriating, were a particularly exquisite example of such. It took all of his effort to prevent him from reaching out and grabbing ahold of power without so much as a bruise. Elegant, efficient, and utterly devoid of any humor, just like his hosts.

All around him stood the council.

They looked impressive enough, with their elongated figures, pale and unearthly, the very presence a feeling akin to hearing voices in your mind, if you had ever experienced hearing voices in your mind, which most of the room’s inhabitants most definitely had

One of the figures took a step forward

"You are Alistair Black"

"That depends," Alistair said lightly, "do we do this properly or did you people drag me here just to write my name on something twice."

There was a pause as the white light around the figure contracted

"You will answer!"

"I just did," Alistair replied, inclining his head

"You were taken from the keep following the primary anomalies’ retreat. Your usefulness to us is currently being assessed"

Alistair leaned back as much as the restraints permitted him

"Assessed? You know, there’s really not a reason to beat around the bush, is there? You can either cut my strings or leave me to rot, it’s all the same to me really"

"You are connected to the fracture"

"I’m connected to a number of things actually" Alistair drawled, "poor decisions, less poor decisions- wait, no, actually those are also connected. You’ll have to be more specific"

"You are the origin of Lucian Black, Lucy Black, Marc Black, and the child Althea, the fracture is intrinsically linked to your bloodline"

"Origin" Alistair said mockingly, "oh please, now you’re accusing me of bad genetics?"

"You will explain the cause of the fracture"

"No."

The response was simple and to the point, it earned a few visible reactions from the crowd, and a particularly annoyed twitch from the nearest figure.

"You will not refuse us"

"I don’t refuse you" Alistair said, looking at his wrists, then back up at the figures’ faces "these delightful little accessories seem to indicate that you have the right to take as much information as you want from me. As for the threat- very unsubtle, terribly executed, I was very nearly offended, but since the two of them have been taken care of I suppose it’s too late for that"

"You are in the presence of the Aethel"

Ah,

there it is

Alistair’s lips curled into a smile as he looked up, the amusement barely contained behind his voice

"No. I’m not."

The room charged with pressure

"You will not deny us!"

"I deny nothing, sir or madam or whatever it is you are" Alistair’s smile widened "I simply state that you are not the Aethel, that you are an imitation, a copy with only a passing knowledge of what you claim to protect"

The crowd reacted visibly, a number of figures actually taken aback by his words

"You speak recklessly"

"I speak truthfully" Alistair remarked dryly, adjusting the restraints on his wrists in an exaggerated fashion "there is a difference, as I’m sure you are aware" There was a sharp pause, then he chuckled briefly "in any case, if my continued existence is a bother to you, kindly refrain from chaining me up and giving me a lecture next time. The genealogy you think you have a problem with is only part of the problem, if you’ll forgive the expression"

The figure that had so far been the most menacing stepped forward, its voice as cold as its presence

"The fracture threatens the balance. Your bloodline has produced an anomaly and that anomaly will be contained."

"Balance", Alistair echoed the word with disdain, "oh, you people do love that word, don’t you? I always find it particularly amusing leading up to a massacre or two."

"You will help us contain them"

"Or what?" Alistair asked pointedly, his expression becoming colder "you will cut me out of the pattern- there it is again, the good old balance. Tell me, when are we getting to the part where you admit that you’re not the Aethel?"

He studied the room carefully, then let out a smile, this time genuine

"I’m done wasting my breath on pretenses, you know. Take me if you must, question me if you must, cut me out of the pattern if you’ve accumulated enough audacity to do so.

Whatever it is you want to do, do it already, but kindly refrain from standing in this glorified dressing room of yours pretending to be things my family tore to shreds centuries ago. If you’re really so desperate to save the balance, ask the real Aethel how much of it my bloodline has already destroyed, and if that is too much of a task for you, then kindly refrain from chaining me up in white halls and pretending to be gods."

The room was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment

"You are not the Aethel"

One of the lesser figures finally said, its voice almost mournful

"No," Alistair shrugged "I’m just a pretender to the throne. Take your pick"

The pressure pushed hard against Alistair’s chest, nearly stealing his breath, the restraints on his wrists glowing brighter for a moment- it occurred to him, with a start, that maybe they were about to do what he expected them to do and slice right through the pattern and remove him from it entirely- instead, the pressure simply receded, minutely

"You will remain here"

The figure with the coldest voice said at last "your usefulness will be assessed based on the actions of your bloodline"

Alistair took a steadying breath, then sighed, letting it out in a cough

"So I’m bait."You will remain"

"Same thing really, better tailored."

Alistair shrugged off the restraints- as much as he could with his hands tied behind his back- and shifted slightly, wincing as his wrists protested the movement. He could live with the pain, his mouth was working overtime, that would suffice for now

"One last thing," he added, as the figures began to slowly fade into the white space of the room

"when Lucian gets here, which he will, take it upon yourselves to not inform him that you are, in fact, the Aethel. He has his own particular brand of xenophobia, and is particularly unpleasant company when confronted with frauds- you are in this situation because you claimed to be gods, remember that next time your self-importance outnumbers your common sense"

The room went silent once more, as the figures vanished one by one, until Alistair was once again alone with the restraints and the white walls

He looked around, his breath fogging up slightly in the cold silence

"Wannabes," he muttered under his breath, "of all the things to survive unto another age."

Somewhere, far away, he could almost hear the ghost of his children’s murmurs in the distance, walking in the world that continued to refuse to get rid of them

Alistair smiled

"Do try not to embarrass me," he said, quietly, to no one in particular. The chains, and his mouth, remained firmly intact.