We followed the tiny Sebyan through the arches and into a small, well-kept room. There was a small fireplace in there. I put Eli on one of the bed wraps near the warm fire while the old man went to retrieve his tools from a chest he kept in the corner.

He took a curved needle and some threads that looked too worn, too old to hold straight. He came back to us, limping on one foot, holding the needle and threads on one hand, jaundiced bandages on the others.

“What happened up there?” Boon Jeema asked me after he came back.

“What does it look like?” I asked back. “There was a fight and we fell down the tower. We ended up here. By the way, what is this place?”

“It’s an old monastery,” Boon Jeema said. “Are you prisoners?”

“Not really,” Eli answered. “How long have you been here old man?”

“I don’t remember,” he answered. “I’ve been tasked to take care of this place, as my old man before me has.”

“Do you know who controls the tower up there?” Eli asked in between groans.

“Stay still,” the old man said. “I’ll use some of our old magic on you. Whatever hit you, it wasn’t clean. Your wound might fester if we don’t take care of it immediately.”

Boon Jeema cleaned Eli’s wound then proceeded to stitching it together. He whispered something in their harsh language and the old looking threads straightened. They had a bright blue glow about them then.

Eli winced and groaned but he endured it. I sat there, watching the old Sebyan. There was this purity about him, as though he didn’t know what had happened between the necromancer in the tower, and the Sebyan in the city. He didn’t look stressed or concerned for his life. He was happy to busy himself in bandaging my friend, as though it was something he did for a living.

Once he was done, he gave Eli a sleeping potion. He said it would help if he took a short nap, allowed his body to recover. I knew the effect of Sebyan potions on us. I hoped Eli wouldn’t sleep for too long. We still had a mission to accomplish, although we didn’t know how to get back up there yet.

“How old are you?” I asked him.

“I lost count after a hundred,” Boon Jeema replied. “It’s hard to keep track of time down here.”

“You’ve been down here for more than a hundred years?”

“I told you, I don’t remember,” he said.

“Why did you help us?” I asked. “It’s not like we’re your favorite race.”

“I only had fish and mice for company for decades,” Boon said. “You’re the first form of sentient life I’ve met since I was asked to care for this monastery.”

“Why didn’t you just leave?” I said. “Your people are in trouble up there, didn’t you know?”

“They can take care of themselves,” Boon replied. “The three tailed fox protects them.”

“The three tailed fox hasn’t spoken to them in years,” I retorted.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Ngairi told me,” I replied. “We came from the city,” I said. “We have a mission to accomplish in this prison.”

“Who’s this Ngairi you speak of?” he asked. “And who would allow a human inside the city? That’s blasphemy.”

“A lot has changed old man,” I replied. “You’ve been here for far too long.”

He smiled, revealing crooked teeth. His face wrinkled even more, which made for a harrowing sight. His eyes, like every other Sebyan, had only one color. His were bright yellow, no pupils, no irises, just a yellow sphere.

“How do we get back up there?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” the old Sebyan replied.

I felt my jaw fall. I was at a loss for words. He was surely joking, right? Old people have this kind of twisted humor. My mouth opened and closed. I looked for words to say but couldn’t utter any of them.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I finally asked.

“They generally send you down here,” Boon said. “You don’t go up unless they decide to. There’s no way to leave unless you can fly.”

“Who are they?” I asked.

“The chief and his council,” he said.

“But the chief and his council are younger than you are. Don’t you think they would have forgotten you existed?”

The old Sebyan burst out laughing. He wheezed as he tried to recollect himself and catch a breath. What was so funny about my remark? And why oh why did I need to fall in these situations? Why do I always seem to find myself in one pickle after the other?

“They most certainly have,” the old Sebyan said. “But I like it here. I never felt the need to leave this place. It’s peaceful here. I have enough food. I have water beside me, and a clean stream on the other side. Why would I go up there and fight to survive?”

“Were you exiled here old man?” I asked.

The Sebyan smiled approvingly. “I don’t think of it as exile anymore.”

“So this is still the prison,” I said.

“You’re a sharp one,” he said. “It’s a form of prison, to hold the traitors. But that was a very long time ago. I doubt Tao Zhar remembers me either.”

“Tao Zhar?” I asked.

“You know him as the warden,” Boon said.

“There’s no warden,” I told him. “There are no Sebyan up there.”

The word came out before I could repress it. The old man looked at me with some kind of expression. It was hard to tell with his strange eyes and his brow-less forehead.

“How do you know that name?” he asked. “Did Tao put you up to this?”

“I don’t know who this Tao is,” I said.

“Then why would you bring this name up?!” he was screaming now. I shot a quick glance at Eli. He was still sleeping, undisturbed by the old Sebyan – Sorry, Child – shouting.

“I saw it on an old book,” I said. “It had the three tailed fox in its cover.”

“So Tao set you up to this after all!” the old man rushed at me.

I fell on the floor, the old Sebyan standing atop my chest. I didn’t know how he produced that knife of his, but it was hardly pressed against my throat. “Since when did Tao make alliances with you, soft skin?”

“You’ve got the wrong idea old man,” I said. “I really don’t know who this Tao is.”

“Don’t play dumb!” he roared at me. “You came from up there. He threw you here to convince me to join him, didn’t he?”

“Old man,” I said, trying to sound calm. “You don’t know shit about what’s happening up there. How about you put that knife down, and we talk?”

“How about I slice your throat?” the old man retorted. “If I manage my resources well, you’ll both provide a year’s worth of food.”

“Fuck this,” I mumbled.

The old man was lighter than the brute I’d fought earlier. Sure, he had a knife. Sure, one wrong move and I could die, but I’ve had enough of explaining myself. I made sure I moved quickly and decisively. I slapped the old man’s hand away, as hard as I could. I felt the knife cut me then fly to the other side of the room.

I hit the other arm and rolled to the side. I was bleeding, but it wasn’t life threatening. The old man lost his balance and fell to the floor. His face hit the ground and I heard him squeal. I got up, pulled him by his long hair then turned it around his throat. Blood seeped from the fresh wound in my throat. I pulled harder, until I heard the old Sebyan gasping for breath.

“How about we talk now, huh?” I asked. “We might find a way to help each other. Hell, my friend here respects your people. He’ll probably beat the shit out of me if he woke up to see this. What say you?”

The old man tapped my shoulder.

“I want to know I can trust you old man!” I warned and tightened my grip around his long hair, which started to gain a new crimson color.

The old man fumbled in his pockets and drew a hunting knife. He threw it far away then tapped me on the shoulder once more.

“We don’t have time old man,” I warned. “I still don’t trust you. Are you seriously willing to suffocate? I won’t bleed out that fast!”

He started emptying his pockets. His hands trembled as he threw more knives, thin threads, a small hammer and some weird looking bone shiv. I let go of the old Sebyan then. The old man fell to his knees, coughing. He looked at me and I could tell he’d love nothing but to kill me. There was no need to read through his facial expression, I could feel his killing intent.

“What is it with you people and that name?” I asked.

“That’s the name you humans have given us!” he replied.

“It’s just a fucking word!” I said.

“You wouldn’t understand,” the old man said. “Why did Tao send you here anyway?”

“I don’t know who the fuck this Tao is,” I said. “He’s dead for all I know. There’s a human controlling the tower now. And I intend to kill him.”

“Human?” Boon said. He smiled then started laughing. I winced at him. My wound stung, and blood seeped out of it with every heartbeat. “How can a human control that tower?” he went on.

I was about to tell him about Lemien and his gift of necromancy, but Ofelia interrupted our conversation. She appeared out of thin air. Her terrible face landed on mine, then she turned to look at the old Sebyan.

“What’s a banshee doing here?” the old Sebyan screamed. “Is this your doing, human?”